A New Family Tradition

Author's Notes: The guys get more settled in their various occupation. Pat thinks he may have found His Man, his father isn't as sure. Tim, the cop, comes up with an offer for father and son to make movies. The Far and Away Far does good deeds for First Responders.

It was an unusual morning in that I was bunking with my Dad, no ‘date’ the previous evening for either of us and, to make it real strange, the Far and Away Bar and Saloon where I occasionally/usually worked had been so quiet you kinda thought you better look for the corpse. Even Sammy, our bouncer, also my man and fuck buddy, said if it got any more boring he’d punch somebody out just to get some life in the place. Also, he had a real bad toothache, appointment to get it yanked, or whatever, the next morning, so sleeping with him did nothing-plus I didn’t want to listen to his grumbling about pain. Nice knowing people who know people who know you’re one off crooked, scored a couple of pain pills, same the dentist would have given him, then sent him home to moan in private. Around ten Burp, who owned the bar and was usually the bartender, looked around, saw no reason for me to stay-he knew I didn’t have a ‘fare’ as he called my paid-for dates, so sent me home or wherever I thought I might bunk in; I had several choices.

Must have been dead everywhere. Dad was already asleep, no sign of Tim, his partner who was also a detective working in homicide, just a quiet night all over. Knowing everything about my father, I gently pulled back the sheets, got his cock in my mouth, started to blow him; Best way to wake a guy. Felt his hands on my buzz cut….

“Swing around, lets make it a father/son 69”. No problem, yes indeed, I can certainly do that...and did. That sort of activity will give you a good night’s sleep which I got.

Silly fucker, woke me up the next morning blowing me….God I love my Dad.

“Want your coffee in bed, payment for that nice blow….”

“You gonna get up and make it?”

Of course I woulda done it for him….

He smiled, laughed a little… “C’mon, out, up, Jesus I keep meaning to get one of those things where you set it, forget it, come morning, coffee’s ready.”

We were in the kitchen.

“Gotta be better than that shit they have at the PD...or does Tim get up early to go there just to dump some of that sewage inside him, get his detecting skills going...even if it’s killing his innards...”

He scrounged around in the sink, picked out two mugs, checked them, decided they were sufficiently clean to be used, poured each one full then brought them to the table-one we always meant to stabilize a bit more-handed me mine, waited for anything else until we both had a slurp.

“Surprised to have you roll in; Any more, your Dad’s only reserved for Father’s day or when you’re desperate.”

I smiled into my mug. “Well, we’re both working men, time is of the essence, can’t wait for, time and ti….”

“Oh shut up, kid, you know that what you’re spouting is horse shit….”

“...just waiting to find an excuse you’d buy.”

He grinned. “Where’s Sammy? Unless you’ve got a date, you’re usually shacked up with him...”

“Bad tooth, I hustled up something for him….better for him to sleep alone...After he sees the dentist today, I can be sympathetic about what ever got done...”

“You’re all heart.” He stuck his finger in his mug to check the temperature, sucked it, had another sip….

“Hey, Tim gave me a lead on a job we could do….”

That opened my eyes. “Your Tim? The cop, Tim, that Tim has something for us to do….this I gotta hear. Wait….from Tim, gotta be legal….”

“..Is, depending on your morals.”

“That’s a mistake I never made, depending on my morals?….Sheesh….what in holy hell has your badge totting buddy got in mind?”

Dad grinned. Whatever it was, he thought it was funny, thought I would think it’d be funny...at least that Tim suggested it….KeeRist….just iced the cake.

I watched him try and compose himself; Didn’t work.

“Remember those tapes we made for the bed by the shower? The ones you use to warm up dates if they don’t seem ready to boil?”

Yeah, remembered them, couple of videos of us fucking….I looked at him.

“You are not going to tell me that your boyfriend, a Homicide Detective wants us to make some dirty movies….?”

“’Member that about morals? Only dirty if you wanna see them that way.”

“So….you screwing me for a video was...what? Sex education? Teaching incest?”

“Nobody knew we were related…..”

I rolled my eyes back and forth between my coffee and my Dad; He worked on some sort of dumb innocent expression...didn’t work.

“Spill it...cuz you’re going to….unless you want me to drop by the station, ask Tim in person…..”

“You’d do it, you little shit, I know you, you fucking would do it.”

“That from a man who makes pastel fly swatters….?”

“They got glitter in them this time.”

Just stared at him, shook my head. “Glitter?”

That was as far with that topic as he wanted to go.

“What Tim said was...he heard about this guy who was making nude pictures….”

“So what? Nude pictures are practically on the front page….thought I saw one of Prince Harry….”

“Yeah, will the Prince ain’t gonna be in what this guy is making. Hard…Core….Porn. Two guys going at it, no holds barred, bareback, no time limit….anything you want to do….”

He stood up. “What I want is a refill. You?”

Handed him my mug.

I tried to think what we hadn’t done. By my count, pretty much everything that didn’t get to the point where bones got broken, guys ended up sterile….or the first place you went after rough house fucking was the ER….

“Why us? Neither of us came from the porno school of body building...okay looking but nothing two other guys couldn’t do, fuck, probably are doing right now...we’re just not in California or wherever they’re made...”

“Tim said the pay was good...”

He knew how to get my interest.

“Before you tell me what we might have to do for this good pay, why don’t you tell me what the pay is...”

“All he said was, if we were interested, he’d tip the guy we might , we could give him a ring, talk about it...”

“Tim gonna guarantee this guy?”

“Absolutely, he’s collared him a couple of times...well, not from Homicide...”

“I’m relieved, sex for or with a convicted murderer, I don’t know...”

“This was back before he moved over to Homicide, that’s where he got him.”

“Doing what?”

“I guess we’d have to ask….all Tim said was he only did five to ten, got out on good behavior.”

“Well...That’s sure good news….”

“So, whaddya think?”

“Lets get back to that good pay….I don’t think you get that kind of money going door to door selling vacuum cleaners naked...”

“Look, all he said was it was real good money...he knows what we get for dates, gotta be better than that for him to try and get us the job.”

I thought this through...briefly. “Dad, on the front, back, underneath,, sides and above, there’s something hinky about this. Your guy, a Homicide Detective, tells you, a whore, his personal stud, that there’s a job for you, his boyfriend and his kid who’s another whore….Dad, that just doesn’t make sense….Tim’s a great guy but...where the fucking hell would he even hear about something like this?”

“I dunno. Maybe at the Police Station?”

Moments like this...I wondered if maybe Tim was really straight?

“…..guess that’s where….”

“Uh huh. Sure. Right there, with the ‘Wanted’ pictures, an ad, ‘Wanted, two studs to fuck on film. A number, tell ‘em Joe sent you.’” Took a swallow. “Dad...he did NOT pick up this well paying ‘opportunity’ at the station.”

In fact, there was no reason he couldn’t have. Someone in Vice coulda come in, laughing, saying, ‘Hey, need two studs to make porno...any takers?’ then get horse laughed out of the room. Which didn’t mean Vice-or whatever they called video fucking-didn’t know about something like that, just reeeeaaallly unlikely they’d drop by Homicide offering this ‘opportunity’.

Which didn’t stop me from wondering where Tim did hear about this money making job….?

I figured I better check on Sammy-no idea what they’d done to him at the dentist, whatever it was, even if he was going to be better, this morning, uhuh…. Pain city cuz what ever they’d given him would have worn off. Course, I had something for a rescue in my pocket as well as a luke warm milky drink from a sorta Dairy Queen that he could probably get down….once the pill had a little while to work.

Not surprisingly, he was still in bed-which looked as if the Boer war had been recently fought in it; Thrashing around in pain will do that. Now, hours after the initial battle, he just lay there making noises that didn’t indicate he liked his Christmas presents. Clearly no time to have him clean out my balls...’sides, Dad had already take care of that chore.

First thing was to get a glass of water then gently sit on the edge of his bed. One bleary eye opened,

“I got something for you...can you swallow laying on your side?”

His mouth, which had been packed with gauze, spit it out...depending on your preference in shades of blood, there was something you’d like. Stuck out his hand into which I dumped the pill then handed him the shot of water. Got it down.

I patted him like my faithful dog.

“Good boy, good boy….you’ll feel better….well...you won’t feel as bad in about twenty, thirty minutes.” Scratched him behind his ears.

He looked …. something, maybe appreciative. Apart from that he looked like hell. The bed looked like hell, the room looked like hell….and he was still wearing most of his clothes. Well, there was one thing I could do; Strip him...which I did. Thought about getting a damp cloth but put that off until the pill hit bottom and he didn’t seem so...uncomfortable. That’s when a sponge bath would feel good. Also, if the pill did as promised, he might be up for a special treat that he liked, getting finger fucked while being jerked off; Take his mind off his mouth.

One good thing, he’d managed to pull off his boots which meant the sheets, though tousled, had survived, wouldn’t need to be replaced.

Figuring I’d give his head, plus the painful mouth in it, a break, I started at the other end, removed the one sock that had, more or less, stayed on; That was the simple part. God knows I’d taken his pants off enough times but then he’d helped, even anxious to remove them whereas now, he was lump city. Got his belt undone, unzipped his jeans, went back down, tried to slowly ease them off. More or less worked, his zipper even hooked onto his jock so that started down the trail as well.

Had to stop to admire Sammy, well, admire how completely Sammy was equipped. I guess my favorite was his sack of balls. Nice, large, ovoids, one slightly larger than the other. Shaved baby butt smooth... Depending on how excited he was, a good way for him to be, his cock no longer lay over them but saluted whatever was going to come next. Nice size, maybe five inches until stiffening set in at which point it developed a good curve just right to run up an ass or to be handled for whatever reason one might think up to handle it: Didn’t matter to him, he’d once told me that laying beside him, holding onto his stick shift, knowing what I was thinking of doing….made up for those years in prison. While it was great that I had that effect on him, to me, nothing made up for almost ten years wasted in the joint. But if he was happy well then, so was I.

Now that he was naked from the waist down, I decided just to leave his tank on him, the only way to get it off, without making him move too much, was cutting it off which...I was too thrifty to do. Sides….I liked the one he was wearing, black, which set off his good tan as well as his prison tats to their best advantage.

He and I had gone round about that, I wanted some ink, he didn’t want me to have any.

My argument was that to a whole lot of people I already was a cheap whore, the ink just said, ‘yep, he sure is’. Reality was different; neither my Dad nor I were cheap, just whores; There’s a difference. The ink? Just dress up what some guys already thought. Also I liked some of them...would have had the biggest Eagle on my chest...real patriotic. I’d tried to get Dad to sign for me before I was 18 but….wouldn’t do it. Not that he was against them, wanted some himself, his problem was...picking out what he was willing to give a home to for one-or more-permanently. (Well known fact, you never get just one, maybe not that day, week or month, but the next one is already in the needle...)

What I admired was the work he got inside but, and he was right, to copy those was to mark myself an ex con...something I wasn’t. His argument was that ink is better than finger prints; Cops photographed all of them, one quick computer run and...there you were, sold down the river by your own body marking. Tats have their own codes….some are just art work but some, like a few of Sammy’s, marked you as something or as part of something which was recognized as such. Gang ink, however badly done, was almost a death penalty if you got cross with someone from an opposing gang. We’d had several murders that, Tim told me, were so gang related that they knew investigating them got you no where; Doors closed if you asked questions not because people didn’t know but because to be seen talking to the cops marked you as a snitch-another quick way to end up in an alley: Dead.

Still, laying there. Looking at Sammy...wanting him, wanting something you could see that said we were a pair….getting inked seemed the only answer...only one thing; He’d told me, no matter how much he loved me, that...to do something like that without his permission…..he never quite filled in the rest of it but I knew what it was; Do that without his permission and whatever he felt for me...I’d probably do without him. Okay, right there, that issue, tattoos is how I figured that Sammy and I were more than just boyfriends, more than just fuck buddies….I remembered his telling me almost from the first time he came into the saloon he’d watched me, wanted me but since other than being his buddy who I relied on to bounce those that needed bouncing, he had no sign that I felt anything for him. Oh, and my standing at stud for money was another suggestion that I didn’t have time for an ex con who was just an employee of the bar. So for almost two years that’s where it stopped until Jerry got towed off to the pen, leaving me with a paid for weekend which Sammy suggested he’d like to take. That was that. I went right on fucking and sucking for money-hey, the pay was great-but it was Sammy and only Sammy for which I had any affection. Okay, my Dad and his guy, Officer Tim as I’d call him just to rag him….(Calling him that, he said, made him sound like he was a character on PBS.)

Working around his nest of an apartment sorta gave me pleasure. I kept where Dad and I lived if not spotless then clean, mostly neat; With two guys completely neat just ain’t gonna happen. I sat on one of the two chairs he owned, looked around, could not believe you could even rent space this small. One room with a sort of annex which held the bits and pieces of a kitchen as well as the bath and toilet; he washed everything that needed washing in that tub from dishes to shirts then hung them up to drip dry over the tub that he and I could not both fit in. Only slightly larger than a toilet bowl, if you were drunk and went into use the shitter, you could be forgiven if you almost took a dump in it.

The medicine was beginning to work...he crooked his finger at me, wanted me to come sit by him. He pulled off this shirt, held me in his arms, groaned….I told him I had another if…. “Yeah, please, Pat, jeez….” I pulled it out of my pocket-didn’t tell him I had a few more-handed it to him, got it down, no water.

“Anything I can do for you?”

He just patted the bed, wanted me to stay with him. Guess he felt some better. Great chest, broad, strong….one nipple had an inked handcuff around it, one of the holes was around his tit...the other….the end of a barrel of a gun was the nipple. I wanted to lean against him but...maybe that would hurt. Put a hand on his chest, finger on his tit, looked at him? He sorta agreed. My mouth went over the one with the cuff...he had wide, dark spots with hard, high nipples...he had me working on mine...sometimes while there was nothing happening at the bar, he’d reach in my shirt, check to see how they were growing, rub them, look at me and wink.

“Yer gonna have real good eating nips….not too much longer...gotta get you a pair of baby bottle rubbers, cut off the tips, put ‘em over the whole are, get those pushed up.”

When he said that, I don’t know, it was such a fucking turn on...but then play with most guys tits, they’ll pop wood. He’d sorta reach down, see if I did, smile at me, whisper...got ten? I wanna suck you off. If I wanted to… I could make it take longer. Even with my meat in his mouth, he sorta look up and wink...he knew I wasn’t giving in...and he liked that…..told me I tasted better than any guy’s milk he ever ate.

Good thing I gave in….that second pill was taking hold, wouldn’t be too long before he’d lay his head down and if not exactly sleep, have a good, deep rest. Just to make sure, I made him comfortable-avoiding his jaw, put a pillow where I thought it might help, looked at….my Sammy, his eyes closed, naked on the white cotton sheet...so desirable...just not now. Got him covered, warm, leaned over, kissed him on his neck, that mouth, even with pain killers, might be tender….left only light in the kitchen on then slid out, locking him in. I did need to talk something over with him but, right then, I didn’t know enough to talk about…

Dad knew I wouldn’t go to the cop shop (well, pushed, I would have) however….I had Tim’s number so dialed that thinking maybe he wasn’t involved looking at the deceased somebody or other: I got lucky, guess no one was dead, so he answered. Asked him if he was somewhere we could talk or, better, could I meet him? Sure, gave me a corner near where I was, told me to look for an unmarked, he’d be in it. Great. Nothing as private as a car, particularly when it’s moving. And it belongs to the police…..

I’ll say this for Tim, whether it was his police training or whatever, but if he said he’d be someplace in ten, he was; We both hit the corner about the same time. He almost slowed down while I jumped in….did something to him most police don’t get, kissed him, he kissed me back. “How’sa boy? Checking on Sammy?”

I’d told Dad that Tim regarded me as a sort of one off son but his calling me ‘boy’ didn’t do anything other than annoy me but….he was so good to my Dad, both of us cuz...when you think about it, he had a helluva lot to overlook...at least from a legal point of view. Not only was his man a stud who sold his services, but so was his son. Some might see that as two for one but, from his cop point of view, it might have been two collars for prostitution, soliciting, pandering…..like I said, he overlooked A Lot.

One thing I did know, the guys at the precinct were pretty much aware of this really weird situation and, if they said any thing to Tim, never got back to us. Also, Dad and I were, well, how to put this, really good, friendly whores, didn’t roll drunks, didn’t get in fights, never drew attention to ourselves. Tim once said compared to some of the strolling entertainment units, as he called street walkers, we were model citizens...a comment open to discussion-but he loved my Dad so whatever else was just none of my concern. However today I did have a concern; Making porno films for money. Brought it up.

He made a police turn around a corner, meaning that I had to hold on or give in to gravity, almost go out the door. One thing about cops, they do know the city; Not only did he turn the corner but kept turning until we shot between two large dumpsters-only someone who had been trained in pursuit driving could have cleared them-found a shady place, jerked us into stop after doing a 180 so he was pointed out; I was impressed. He had some advice. “Next time wear your strap….” I promised I would thinking there wouldn’t be many times I’d be in an unmarked vehicle down an alley with a cop. Simple; Of course I promised.

Tim had a great smile which, for homicide, seemed a little….unusual. After ten years of investigating death, and I’d heard him tell Dad some of his stories, finding anything cheerful, other than you woke up in the morning, knowing what might be in your day struck me as...amazing. As what he did next.

“C’mere, wanta give my big boy a step fatherly kiss…” I’d told Dad that Tim regarded me as his by association but now...he’d thought up a title to make it more real. He pushed back in his seat, looked at me…. “Damn I am one lucky man….handsome father, dynamite son, couldn’t get that if you married and fucked some bitch flat.”

OOOkayy. That was not typical Tim talk. This line was getting further from what was on my mind and closer to wondering if he wanted to seal this ‘family’ relationship sexually? He fucked my Dad, why not plow the son? (A chore well attended to at another time.)

Only after he and Dad were pretty much established as...well….a couple doesn’t catch it but then ‘lovers’, which is what they also were, was a little far from the mark as well, did it even cross my mind that….like father like son; We both put out, just for money. Dad gave him a friendly ‘police’ rate, meaning he charged him...nothing, but however he may have thought of me, his ‘kid’ had a nice ass as well...not to mean he’d comparison shop but...when Dad was ‘involved’ and I wasn’t, well, wouldn’t I give him the same discount that Dad did? I knew the answer, yeah, I had.

Seems he wanted some information; What he should get Dad for his birthday which was a long way from making porno. It just popped out of me, “Socks and underwear”. He looked at me…. “Sorry Tim, it’s just an old saying. Uhm, I’ll nose around see if I can find something.” We both sat there. His memory apparently returned.

“Hey, guess I never told you but...you got a real good body.”

“Thanks...I, uh, you’re holding your own….Dad agrees.”

I could see him smile to himself….knowing his Paul, my father, liked his body...mattered.

“Yeah, your Dad. Reminds me, listen, a customer of mine…Oh, forgot, some of the men I sent up before I moved to homicide are out, doesn’t seem nice to call ‘em cons so… ‘customers’. They, uh, some of them now and then know a thing or two that’s interesting so….”

I nodded. “C.I, huh?”

“Yeah, sometimes, some of them….well, there’s one, told me he’d seen you and your Dad, knows what you do...on the side...”

“We try to be a little careful, no signs on our asses saying, “Ask about our other bargains...”

He laughed.

“Okay... Listen, Tim, Dad told me there might be an offer on the table that paid good money, something about the picture business….”

He almost gulped as if he knew something he didn’t really want to know..but did….

“Yeah….uh, this guy, well, he heard that you and your Dad made a fuck film with each other, one that is, uh, over the bed behind the bar…..”

“True enough, you never seen Dad and me getting it on?….if you got time, we can run over there, I’ll cue it up...show it. Better, you want an in person up close and real personal show, you got it….but the thing at the bar pretty much what you expect, nothing more than two guys screwing each other, use it to put guys I’m gonna do whatever to as sort of a warm up…..maybe...six, eight minutes long. Don’t even know it’s my Dad and me. By now it probably needs a retread.”

“Don’t suppose you could get it so anyone who was interested could give it a look...without being in a bed waiting for...”

“Easy. Tomorrow..I’m taking the morning shift for Burp, Sammy will be there, if he can move his jaw. Glad to see a warm body, give you a plate lunch….pick a time, it’ll be ready but...like I said, it wasn’t never any quality, just the action was all that mattered so don’t expect any awards for great photography or acting….lots of cock and ass, maybe we smiled...not in the picture.” He laughed.

“One more thing, Tim, we both love my Dad so...if this is something that goes too far, gets him or me in Dutch with the cops...that being you...”.

He looked straight ahead, wondered what he saw other than two trash dumpsters, the ones he’d navigated as we zoomed in. “You’re a good son….sometimes….I forget, well, I forget your not mine.” His head dropped.

I don’t do many car dates but I have some experience. Leaned over, turned him to me without getting his arms caught in the wheel, looked right in his yes…. “Ya know, I kinda think it would do a man good to have two fathers….” I laughed as I thought of something. “At least one who didn’t make fly swatters. With sparkles….”

“You’re shitting me? Sparkles?” That’s when I pulled him toward him then kissed him, a real man’s kiss. “Okay other dad?” He grinned. “Yeah, real okay….and Pat...now that it’s official, next time you wake me up and….you know.”

“Suck your dick?”

“I might just take a pull on your cock myself.”

“Semen shared makes a closer family, well known fact….”

He dropped me at the bar which, it was early, only me out front cleaning, not really doing anything. Burp wandered in, said he’d left some papers. Told him I was going to take out one of the vids, the one of Dad and going at it...He seemed upset.

“Not just cuz I really like you and your Dad but….that one’s always been real special, says a lot about what a father an’ son can do to kill time-yeah, I know you can go to the park and throw a ball around, even jog but...what the two of you do in that, goddam, got to make a family real close.”

Gave him a smile. “Does...now do you want the kicker on this one? Tim, Dad’s Tim, Tim from Homicide wants to look at this.”

Burp looked puzzled. “No dead body in there….whattup?”

“Some guy he knows wants to make us porn stars….guess this is the audition tape.”

“Just promise you’ll put it back, some moments, get horny, that’s one of the few back there that’ll get me going full steam.”

“Dad and I are flattered….” The thought of Burp stroking it down to a movie of me fucking…..just really hard to imagine.

I had the disc when Tim showed up almost seemed embarrassed to handle it as he knew the contents-I asked him if he’d like it in a plain brown envelope. Also gave him a plate lunch as promised.

One thing, Burp was really big on doing what he could for first responders, didn’t matter which ones. Maybe why the Far and Away was one of the best concealed cop hang outs. If he heard the street cleaner coming, he’d be outside with at least a cool soda, good sized sandwich...same with any city employee who had a rotten job-like the meter readers who probably spent half the day arguing with people who, I guess, couldn’t read a sign that said, “No Parking”. Not to mention the fire guys, cops and, out back, bales of some good hay that was there for the horses the guys rode in the mounted division. Also, quietly, there was an access to the shower room which was much appreciated even if only occasionally mentioned. I never really thought about it much, but all the good will we built up probably helped Dad and me in our ‘careers’ in for-sale sex. He was just a good guy….now and then I’d hear about something he’d done, never mentioned it, just...did it. Tim told me that a motorcycle officer took a bad spill, broke a leg; While he was in the hospital Burp made some sort of deal for his kid to go to daily child care so his wife could work; Cops remember that kind of thing...And he let me sell sex right in front of him. Go figure. Of course, my clients were also his clients who, conveniently, spent money with both of us…..

(A few guys asked me if Burp and I ever got it on or….for the real curious, how often we did it? Answer was...never. I always thought Dad was more his type, also, I’d been working in or around the place since I really was a kid….Father and Son but, the Father is the bigger deal...and wasn’t too close to legal one-not that it mattered much. Just because he said he like to watch me fuck, on the screen, said it turned him on….told me nothing about what he really liked. Never seen him with a woman but...I’d never seen him with a guy either. At least nothing that wasn’t just being friendly, when you run a bar, that’s just how it is.)

“Thought you had business?”

“Death in their family, appointment got changed.”

“Think we should tell Tim? You know how he is about deaths in the family”...and both laughed.

“He’d be disappointed, this one was at home in bed with a priest….”

“In bed with a priest….?”

“You little shit, you know what I mean,” I did.

One thing about Burp and me, we’d been around each other so long that conversation didn’t need to be started, just jump into the middle.

“Whaddya think about the porn movie thing?”

“They paying you?” Had to laugh, first thing I wanted to know.

“Well, if Tim is right, better than what I can make on a date….”

Must have been a question he’d wondered about. “Hey, what do you charge?”

The truth was...it varied. Some of the guys who looked worn out, rode hard, put up wet, I’d take back, shower them, get them comfortable, maybe even put them to bed, blow them, whatever and for that I charged...nothing. Kinda like Burp and the first responders, I’d see a guy come in, what he needed wasn’t a beer or a drink so...off to the showers. Truth is, guys told me, they dropped by hoping I’d do just that. See, these were our guys, regulars, they’d watched me kinda grow up, done things for me, seen I got good tips when it looked like I was a little thin...all knew my Dad so….the shower, the bed, sex or not….just something I wanted to do for them. My Dad had taught me that being good to people, when they was good people, was the right thing to do. ‘Course, on the other side, beat the shit out of ‘em if they tried to fuck me or someone around me over….name of the game. Burp once said that in a way….I was sorta everybody’s kid, even when I was all grown up, well into my 20’s….said….they remembered what I’d done for them so...it was just how it was.

He’d once asked me….what did I charge? Flat rate? Fuck ‘n suck? All nighter? The truth was I worked on a sliding scale that had a lot to do with whether I liked the guy to his big mouthing how much money he had; They got charged a lot. Some of ‘my guys’ and I...I’ve told you about showering the tired, the abused, the just plain weary….they were my pleasure, my friends, my buddies... watching a guy go from can’t get it up to...lets go drill holes in the bar with this fucker….You don’t always get paid for everything you do. And, no, I am NOT the whore with a heart of gold...should you be thinking that. Oh, Dad and I once talked about this...we both just plain liked sex so why not get paid?

That night I decided, after his crack about ‘Charity beginning at home’ when I said I had a paid for date that wasn’t going to show, I took Dad to the motel where I kept a room for a dinner plus a father/son wham bang. He’d taught what he liked to do almost accidentally cuz he was the one who popped me so just follows I picked up what he did. Loving him helped, just holding him made me happy but getting fucked by him made me real happy; He knew how to mount me like no other man...and I’d had many comparisons so I could make that statement.

Having sex with him took on a quality that no other man could offer me. When he sank his cock into me, I wanted that, I wanted the feeling, I wanted to know I was giving him pleasure just as equally he was providing all those things to me. I wanted him to treat me not so much as his son but as a man he desired, wanted, sexually found arousing. At times he wanted what some might call ‘rough’ sex but simply reflected his mood at that time. He could be so softly romantic, so loving, so considerate of me that his finally mounting of me was not just sex but his expression of love for this man in whom he’d caused to be in existence. There was one thing, so simple, a 69, we could lay like that, our cocks in the mouth of the other for….hours….sometimes we’d come, sometimes not but having his dick….plus his hands all over me, often leading up to a finger fucking with one hand while his other cradled my balls, rolling them gently but using his fingers to seem to whisper to them...give me more, give me more. Other times I’d just lay there while he painfully squeezed a load out….me tied up, gagged, in pain….still knowing the only way to free myself was to produce semen.

On those nights, when he’d start, I could feel one rope, cuffs, gag, but done at a pace that seemed in slow motion. Some times he’d do a complicated rope pattern then hang me from a hook; Snarling at my nipples, one hand on my sack forcing it to cum…..no matter how long...I would hang there, tears of pain and love trying to make my nuts give their milk to the cords that would then feed my cock…..where his hand lay waiting, waiting waiting to collect what he’d pumped from me. It became his final treat, licking his hand, leaning down, licking my cock head, trying to insinuate his tongue into the slit seeking the last bit of man milk…..Taking me down, slowly releasing me, making sure I was getting hard….he now had to sacrifice for what he’d done by being reamed by a hardened stick of me that would drive into him, empty, no chance of leaving remains but completing the contract of father and son love….

The next morning, like I often did, woke him with a blow job-already had coffee for him. His smile….

“Uh Uh, coffee in a bit, give me your little boy dick...my little boy...all grown up….time to pay him for the coffee….” and sucked me off.

Cold coffee in the mugs while I lay in bed beside him, Jesus I love him….rolled over, almost cried when I looked at his closed eyes, his arm around me….as I closed mine, thought….we had the rest of the day….

The pool at the motel provided a nice spot to just relax….wearing as little as possible. Just me, and I have no big thing for feet, but tanned toes just said ‘healthy!’. I’d made an arrangement with the motel so that I could block the pool off with a sign that said, “Private Party, Pool will reopen after 6 pm) so that whoever had paid me for whatever they wanted could also use the lounges (which I’d bought) to work on getting rid of their tan line. Line or no line, Dad and I sometimes just flopped on floats then let the sun take care of providing nice, brown asses for the paying customers. This day I was floating, he was lounging, not much conversation, but he did have a favor.

“When Sammy gets his mouth back in working order, I want to take him for a drive around the park, just us, not you.”

“Sure.” But then thought… “Why?”

“Cuz I want to drill his ass, that’s why, have a talk with the man, cuff him, dry fuck him, make him blow me then we’ll get down to the little matter of him and my son….I got some questions.”

I laughed. He didn’t laugh back.

Silence. This wasn’t like him, he knew the men I hung out with, took money from so they could fuck me, Sammy had been around the bar for some time before he took up with me….whatever there was to know, probably was. Anyway, his boyfriend was a cop who could find out anything….we all knew Sammy had done time, no secret, I knew why...just didn’t discuss it. Nobody’s business, that was past history so now...this.

“You got a reason? What if I said I might not like you poaching….you know I’d never ask you to hand over Tim so I could….whatever with him...”

He slipped into the water beside me, took hold of my balls.

“These...I don’t want my kid’s balls broke when he decides he’s not for real and says, ‘Sayonara’….leaving you with these empty and your dick sticking out, wondering where he went.”

I had to think but then… “You know something or… Has Tim told you something….?”

“The deal with Tim, come to think I guess I never told you, I don’t ask about his work, even if something is on the front page and I know he was involved, that’s his business.”

I wondered something, got told.

“….just like he doesn’t ask me about the guys who pay me money to fuck me or...whatever we do. Like the front pages, he could probably figure some things out but...he doesn’t.”

“Jesus, Dad, he ever get, well, jealous….you’re his man, his partner his…..”

“Go on, say it, I’m his lover...”

“Yeah, that.”

“….plan on continuing since you might wonder. Tim’s a good man, do anything for me, you, too….honest, intelligent, real good at his work...”

“So why does he have a paid for stud as his….lover.”

Dad looked off into the wherever. “Ya know, we’ve talked about that...damned if we know, just love each other….like I hope you an’ Sammy are going towards….”

“Then why this thing about taking him out, drilling him….?”

“He’ll give himself to me, your father, to show he cares enough about you to put up with this nonsense….”

“So...you wanta screw him just to see if he’ll let you because he loves me?”

“That’s about it.” He hauled himself out of the pool. “When his jaw gets better, let me know, he’s gonna need his mouth.”

I was trapped. I had no interest in staying in the pool but Dad and I had finished that conversation, to follow him might look like I had something more to say. What I had was confusion-maybe I was younger and dumber than I thought but..the idea of Sammy just up and going away….never crossed my mind. I crossed my arms on the cement coping, lay my head on my hands but couldn’t think about anything other than Sammy….gone.

Fuck it, I started to cry; I figured I might really love Sammy, didn’t want this…

A week later Sammy, and his jaw, were back to normal; No point in putting off what Dad wanted. What I could and did tell Sammy was that Dad wanted a private meeting with him….about me. He asked if I knew what was up…. But….the one thing I was not going to tell him was that my father wanted to drill his ass and whatever. In my mind, it was the ‘whatever’ that made my stomach drop….but...either I set this up or somewhere, not too far from now, the pressure would be on me to dump him, tell Burp to can him at the saloon….X him from my life…. But, one thing, they’d have to do, give me a cold, hard reason for any of this…. cuz….I loved him. Which is what I did.

That Friday, the two men met at my motel room. I was told to go home, stay there, watch television, play with myself...wait……

Maybe 10? Heard a key in the lock, I’d turned off most of the lights, just lay there trying not to think about what was going on. Dad and Sammy. I’d been told what my father had in mind…..but Sammy wasn’t the sort of man who’d roll over then offer his ass. It was too soon for either of them so…..only one choice. I shoved over a bit, waiting for Tim to walk in.

What ever he’d done that day, he looked like he’d been taken down, rolled then given a mud bath. In short, he looked like shit. Didn’t take me a minute for my instincts to pop in, here was a man who needed some comfort, a shower, taken to bed and….but we’d get to that.

“Hi.”

“Stop right there, take ‘em all off, you know what I’m gonna do...just let me.” I smiled at him...he may have smiled back, all that happened was a shower of dirt, dust and mud fell off him. Yep, he was definitely ready for a shower. What we’d do about his clothes? Well, he spent enough time here with my Dad so….I’d worry about that later; Shortly he’ be naked.

Even with his clothes off...made you realize that dirt was only skin deep, but he was covered with it.

Over time I’d come to really care for Tim, and, just then, when he looked, as the saying goes, ‘he looked like he’d been rode hard and put up wet’ without the wet part.

I wasn’t sure our shower could blast through the layers of grime…

“What the hell have you been doing? Some dead body in a mud puddle? Jesus, Tim, get in this shower, sit down, just relax….you look like a man who is seriously exhausted.”

He took my hand…. “Pat….just now, there’s nobody I’m happier to be with….”

“Even without the water?” I was now holding a bottle of body wash dumping it over him. What I knew to do I did just automatically…..started with his head, washed his hair then moved down….as I was scrubbing his shoulders he put one hand over one of mine.

Looked up.

“I am so glad your father had you….”

“He agrees on that….just shut up, let me do what I know what to do.”

For maybe half an hour, until the water was on the verge of turning cold, the two of us were together, wet, soapy, but mostly, I just rubbed him. At one point I got down, first deeply massaged his thighs then slid my head into his crotch….took his cock into my mouth, started a slow, warm sucking….his hands finally were on my head as I could feel his abdomen spasm just before his sperm shot onto my waiting tongue, tasted almost like….my other dad. Finally, we were just standing there in the spray, holding each other, said nothing...just being two men who knew they cared for each other…..

Using one of my huge towels I made sure he was thoroughly dry then got him into bed, comfortable, wrapped in a blanket; So relaxed I could have closed his eyes with a finger. The smile on his face? My payment for genuinely caring for my father’s man. Did some quick tidying up, got in bed with him, held him, felt him relax….sleep.

Two, Three? Hellacious sound of men laughing, bottles clanking, lights being switched on….Tim and I pulled out of bed. Half asleep, half mad I looked up to see my Dad and Sammy arm in arm, smiling, sort of; they both had black eyes.

“Think that bed will hold four men?”

“Doubt it but...if you don’t try you don’t know.”

Sammy reached down, picked me up, pressed me to him, kissed my cheek

I was conscious enough to figure out the situation. Didn’t need to be told, whatever the problem was between the two, they’d solved it-Dad had two black eyes, both of them sported an interesting collection of bruises….their forecast? Pain tomorrow.

As much as he could, Dad grinned, looked at me. “Think you and your man better find some other place….I want this lawman all to me. Not sure I can fuck just now but….” he smiled at time.

Sammy slung an arm around my shoulder. Looked over, “Pat I’d kiss you but, aw fuck, all it can do is hurt some more.”

The next morning, which happened pretty quick, he and I were at my motel, one of us trying to get the whole story, the other alternating between laughing and wincing in pain.

I’d tried to get some sort of story from him but….nope, just reached out to me..until something further hurt.

“You got yourself one fine man…..had to fight him for you….guess you can see I got what I wanted.”

By now I’d heard just enough to work up to being pissed off at both of them. Just glared at him.

“Aw c’mon….Pat….I can tell you now...I love you….guess I have for some little while, just took getting fucked by the dad of what I wanted to figure it out….”

I was quiet. Love. Well, yeah, fuck it all, I did love the stupid sonofabitch...guess he saw that when a big tear plopped out, fell on my improved nipple.

“I’m too sore to come an get you….just crawl in beside me….

It took me a moment….this was for real, only loved one other man and it wasn’t Sammy.

‘Sides, I did love him. Got in bed, got by him, just looked into his face.

“Oh, hey, guess you an me is gonna be porn stars…..Paul thought with my tats, it’d look more like a real fucking….” He slowly rolled on his side, started running a finger on my chest….. “Yeah, two tatted up guys going at it...”

I stopped him. “Two tatted up…..?”

“Yeah, guess I didn’t tell you, that was what the fight was about…..I want you to have some ink, he lost, you get ink. I won.”

He sorta paused, as good as his jaw would let him, smiled at me…. “Yeah I think a big nasty Eagle right about there. Least for the first one….Look better when I’m tearing your ass off while the camera watches…..and on your ass…..”