A New Family Tradition

Some stories you rather wish were 'based on a true story' but, unfortunately, this one isn't. I like my guys, both father and son, hope you will as well. Pat, the smart ass kid and Paul, the hunky Dad, are more than father and son, they're lovers as well as good friend who do a lot for each other. And then there's their best friend Franky....

This wasn't written with my tongue too far in my cheek. The sex is real, if not really original, and the humour is intentional. Hey, when you have a smart ass protagonist, that just happens...

He’d raised me real well, everyone said so, no father like Paul, none. Along with that was the parallel to it that, everybody said it….very few sons ever turned out as good as did I, Paul, Junior...don’t know why, he called me ‘Pat’.

My mother?….Well, that was a question that a lot of people wondered about. She’d disappeared when I was about six, I remember her, sort of. Wasn’t around much, when she was, her favorite thing to do was sleep. In a bed, if she made it that far, sometimes on the floor where she ended up when sitting on a chair was too much to handle-dad, sometimes his buddy Franky if he was around, would just sigh, pick her up, move her to the bed in the spare room; That’s when I learned the expression, “Sleeping it Off”. Kids don’t understand about drinking, alcoholics, just that she wasn’t around much until one day….she wasn’t around at all.

Cops came, Dad had called them, told them whatever he could, answered their questions then it was my turn. I don’t know what he’d said but I’m guessing my answers were pretty much like his, or even less. What had she been wearing the last time I saw her? Well, a bra, panties….not the answer they expected. Where was the last place I saw her? On the bed in the spare room, asleep. (I didn’t know the expression, ‘out cold’ although that’s what she was.) The Cop fumbled about, trying to think of any question that would produce an answer with her awake and wearing clothes, couldn’t think of one…..Oh...What about my Dad? I just looked at him. What was the question? Did they get along? Fight? He ever slug her? Wrong question. Had to tell him about how she stabbed him...still had the scar on his side-she just missed his heart. Because he’d asked, I told him she was wearing a bra and panties when she did it. No more questions. They left.

Dad put his arms around me, held me, whispered in my ear that it was just the two of us...he’d do the best he could...we didn’t have much but if I helped, do things around the apartment, we’d be okay. I believed him because, well, he never lied to me also, at that age, having little or a lot doesn’t mean much; I had him which seemed like all I needed. I was young, there were things I could do, the things every kid should do. Make the bed, clean up after myself, -or just don’t make messes-put dishes by the sink by stepping up on the stool so I could get up to put them in the sink-I was short then-wash them, doing chores. Push a broom….doesn’t sound like much but it was way more than a lot of the kids I knew did. A Lot. I got real good at keeping it clean, hey it was out home, wanted it nice for Dad and me.

Maybe it was the difference between me and the other young kids…. I was never seen as real young. For one, I was ‘big for my age’, for another I talked like my father as well as his buddies which is a polite way of saying I swore, part of how we talked. Too many times saying something like...”Fuck lady, I didn’t know Billy wasn’t allowed in your room”…..And I didn’t tho found out double quick that he wasn’t also that I needn’t come back. So it came down to Dad, me, his few friends-mainly Franky-and...that’s about all. We did the usual father/son things, threw a ball around, if there was a hoop, shot those….jogged, worked out. There were also the non-father/son things, going to the pool hall, being taken to the illegal casinos, playing poker. Some of the men objected at first but got used to me, matter of fact a couple of saloons gave me part time work clearing tables, washing glasses, mopping while Dad and whoever he was with leaned back, maybe played darts, Rummyor just shot the shit. The regulars liked me, I was raised to be respectful, also...I wasn’t no ‘kid’. Asked if I could do something, my answer was “Fuck yeah….want it brought to you?”. See, fit right in. Course I didn’t drink, strong enough to hoist drunks, along with the bouncer, toss them out on the sidewalk. For my helping out, Dad got free whatever, beer, Bourbon, I got tips, could clear, some weekends, fifty bucks, now and then more. Can’t fucking argue with that; Dad got comped and I got cash. Walking home he’d punch my bicep, say, “You’re a clever little shit, glad I kept you.” Looked back at him…. “You got it backward cockhead, I keep you...this money here? You earn that? Hell no.” He’d laugh again. “Guess you’re right, Pat, I do guess you’re right but, cocky kid, you didn’t get drunk like me so missed part of what you worked for.”

I told you, I love my Dad. Yes I do.

Oh, occasionally the cops still came back, had we seen Mom, heard from her, knew anything?….No. One time, I must have been around eleven-old enough to figure out they always thought Dad had something to do with her disappearance-one of them ‘dropped by’ just to “see how you were getting along”. I remembered I’d found something of hers, told him, he perked up, wondered what I’d found, where I’d found it, asked for it. From the top shelf where they’d been for years, an old bra and pair of panties. He told me to keep ‘em until he had an evidence bag. Guess he never found one, didn’t come back. Told Dad and his buddy Franky; Fuckin’ fools, laughed so hard, they couldn’t hold their beer bottles. After Franky left, Dad asked where had I found them? Right in front of us as it turned out; In a place like ours, you didn’t have many closets-we had a couple. The ‘largest’ had a high ceiling that led to an opening to access the electrical works, some of the plumbing, shit like that. On the very highest shelf, way in back, all wadded up, there they were. If anyone with longer arms, reached up, they would have found them the first time the cops looked for her...But as we’d established she was partial to bras and panties, when she was upright anyway, finding ‘em there just seemed….normal. How they got up that high? No one was trying to hide them...as with any place, there are just things that, like a sock in the wash, don’t turn up...or maybe does but a lot later.

After Mom….disappeared/went away/ didn’t come home Dad figured he needed to try and give me as much affection as he could. Always good for a hug when he went to work, got home, just...whenever. Also he had me sleep in with him which, frankly, I liked. He wasn’t what I’d call hairy but had a nice smooth coat of fur that was comfortable... not like a big teddy bear, just a man with fur on his body. We always slept in the nude, just naturally he took to holding me against his chest; The soft sound of his heart beat, his level breathing was better for making me sleep than anything. Didn’t take long before, because it was by my mouth, I took to sucking on his nipple in my sleep, made us closer, warmer. Same time he’d slip a finger up my boy ass, not aggressively, but just a sign that he was there...my licking his nice pec making his nipple hard felt good to him, got him stiff, this was his way of paying me back. I liked it, would snuggle down, push my ass on to his finger. Probably felt good to him….both of us really sleeping….I dreamed about being awake, naked, Dad came home, smiled at me, picked me up, fucked me while I attached myself to his tit, sucked it. Hard. As I got older, dreams got…better, I started getting hard too. It was nice, hated to wake up.

Nobody ever said we shouldn’t to do it, just father and son being together. When I got older, Dad smiled, said, “Your nuts came out of their shell”, my boy cock began to sprout, he’d laugh, show me what there was to look forward to….still remember the first time he jacked me off...slow, quiet, still, looking into my eyes, his soft touch with those rough hands. Just like it was yesterday. He was in a chair, had me scooped in his arm while the other one….eventually my first splatter of sperm...not much, just enough. He leaned down, licked it, looked at me, let me feed from his mouth….I was a little afraid cuz I hadn’t asked him but...I put my hand around his hard big boy pole, tried to copy him. His eyes closed all I heard was, “Thank You, Pat, oh holy shit, Thank You so fucking much. Best son…..” then he got lost in what he was feeling. Course now I know he was really blue balled, hadn’t been juiced in a long time so what I did was just like shaking a soda bottle too much then popping the cork. But….I was proud that I did it, proud that he liked what I’d done….seemed to make us closer as father and son.

“Son….they don’t make ‘em any better than you...I ain’t sorry, no sir, I’m not. We can do that any time we want...Yes, Sir, we sure can.” That big Dad smile, kissed me like I’d got used to by then, not on my cheek, but on my lips, mouth...now he started putting his tongue in my mouth, sorta tongue wrestled. We’d lean back, laugh, really stick to each other. It got even better when he’d stroke the fur I was growing, lick me, smile...Jesus, I love my Dad.

Yep, I surely do remember that night. Course after that one, there were lots of others but your first time, just special more so when it’s your dad. Nobody is gonna be like him cuz nobody loves you like your Dad, nobody fucks you like him either. Blindfolded, hands tied, I could tell the feel of his big dick in my tail….no one else like it. Said he could tell mine as well...like father like son.

I guess his genes got to me early. Before I was 15 I was just over six feet tall, got some weight on me from working out, playing football at school. It was Franky who noticed that Dad and I weren’t exactly twins but it was easy to see we had to be related. In more ways than he knew or could see. I got man sized balls with a fairly substantial cock, little on the short side but broad, once it got real hard, stayed that way. Dad’s was a little longer but father and son, fuck, we were proud of each other. Yes We Were.

One time he laughed, said since I was growing up, maybe we better get a bigger bed. I just looked at him, told him we were doing fine with what we got...new beds cost money and...I kinda laughed, just getting this one broke in...

“Yeah, we are, aren’t we…..There’s one more thing sorta….Lets fuck.”

Held me in his arms, kissed me, leaned back, looked in my eyes which were closing then kissed me again. All I could think to do was put my hand on his breast and get comfortable in his arms….Guess now we had all we needed to from lips to ass, cocks to tits...just us...in a dark room making it warm, father and son together. I could feel his big man’s piece of meat slide into me...all the way up. Oh, Yeah, Oh, holy Shit, Yeah. Nobody, breeds me like my Dad. Ever.

Some nights while I laid on top of him he’d sleep with his cock up my tail, nothing too hard or trying to push, just because he said it was a warm place to park it for over night. We both laughed at that. Told him...he’d have to get his ticket stamped so in the morning the attendant would let him out, no charge. Smiled into his eyes then kissed him. Nobodies cock feels like your Dad’s cock up your ass-okay I said that- nobody, least ways, not if they’re my Dad….Funny thing, couple of times when I sank mine into him...didn’t feel just right. Oh, sure, it felt good, he wanted me to take him, fucking always does but...his cock had pride of place between my hard worked ass cheeks, like it formed a place just for him as I grew up so….’Dad’s Garage’ as we called it was always open, he got the only space.

I’m not sure who was prouder when I finished high school, me or Dad. He’d had to leave just one semester short of graduating, never got back, that’s how these things go. Even on an application there’s a difference between ‘Graduate’ and ‘Some High School’. That ‘Some’ just means somehow you failed….whatever the reason. In his case, it was money-his dad was killed on the job but for some reason, cuz he was working off the book, no workman’s comp. That meant Dad went to work and from that day until now, that’s what he did, work. Somewhere he met the woman he married, they had me...and then started to support her drinking until she just wandered off leaving him with me and not much else except a bunch of cops who, for a long time, couldn’t shake the fact that somehow her disappearance was…..connected to him… no reason except the husband is always the first person you suspect. No proof...unless you count some old bras and a pair of panties which shouldn’t give any clues.. Which they didn’t;The DNA didn’t show any sperm but Dad’s... Franky said, one Christmas after they’d ‘dropped by’ we should buy a cheap tree, put bras and panties on it then give it to the cops.

I had no real interest in school ‘cept I knew how much stock Dad put in it. Also….playing football, varsity football. He’d played...until, before he quit, he had to take a job so...maybe he was living something he didn’t get through me. Okay, if it made him happy, made me happy and, actually, I was pretty good. Getting big early on made me a tank among some of the young kids who were still shy a ‘growth spurt’-some were still waiting for their nuts to drop, their cock to bloom; I was admired for what I had, shouldn’t a done it but in the shower I’d stroke myself down, let the thick white milk splatter on the wet floor, run into the spiral that led to a drain. Just walked away, said nothing but I smiled a little, actually hoped they’d get to be able to do it just like me. Some did as time went along, we’d stand in the spray having a round pound, now and again stroke each other off….see who shot the most, who was longest, biggest, hairiest-guy shit, nice ‘n warm in the shower...being admired by the other guys. And one of the coaches.

I was standing by my locker the last year when the man who worked with defense, also taught manual arts, came by, put a hand on my shoulder, told me I was doing real good, liked the way I blocked whatever that day. Okay. Thanked him. He wasn’t very subtle, asked me what else I blocked as his hand ran down my back stopping just short of my ass. So I told him….it wasn’t the answer he expected but Dad had read someone’s mind and told me what to say when this sort of thing happened, gave me an answer to a question this jerk almost asked. Said, “Sir, I’m saving money for college and...well, one thing I got that I can sell one time for a lot of cash is my cherry so first time I’m fucked, Money in my hand….” He moved away, never spoke to me again except on the field. I used that line several times, always go home tell Dad, Franky if he was there, who, where….what they did. That got me a beer with them. Franky said...if I wanted to make some money without doing anything, figure out a way to record that conversation-and with who….he bet I could sure sell that for more than I could make at the saloon and a helluva lot quicker….

Several months after graduation Franky had brought a bucket of chicken-we’d chipped in. He was dripping cole slaw when he said to Dad, “Remember that coach who wondered about Pat? In the locker room that day?”

“Sorta.”

I perked up.

He took a slurp of his Coke. “Well, seems he ‘s been known to buy young boy tail….some of it, not so young….” He looked at me. “Pat would be primo for his tastes….” and then he laughed… “heard that line about selling his cherry gagged him….”.

But Dad heard something or thought something…. “There an offer for it?”

Franky nodded his head while chewing. Finally got the hunk of thigh he was working on swallowed. “Yep, seems he liked what he saw that day….put it out that if there was a sale possible….Jesus he’s dumb, didn’t even say a price…..there might be a buyer.”

Dad and I both laughed.

Dad said,“Where’s he gonna get his cherry? That bird flew away a long time ago.’(Winked at me..) “Shit, Franky, you can’t sell something…..” but he stopped. Looked at me. I got what he was pitching.

“...you can’t sell it unless….nobody knows it’s not there.”

Franky just kept licking his chicken greased fingers. “Yeup, that’d be one way. Fuck, I bought more twat that was said to be extra virgin but the only thing virgin was the Olive Oil I used to get slick.”

“How much?” Hey, it was my ass, wanna to know what it’s worth.

The guys looked at me.

“Fuck, I can’t say yes or no until I know what I’m turning down….Dad? We could use the money...”

“….if there’s enough money.”

“Seems to me, buddy, only thing to do is find out what the going rate for virgins is...particularly good looking, tight assed teenaged virgins...can’t be too many of them...”

Dad looked at Franky? “You fishing for a cut?”

Wiping his hands he looked back, said, ‘Wouldn’t say no….but only IF I can get enough to make it worth there being a cut. Pat? Kinda up to you.”

It was, too.

Later, when Franky went to the spare bed-kinda like mom used to, only difference, he always made it on his own, Dad and I looked at each other.

“Pat, it’s up to you…..”

Something I’d always wondered. “Dad….did you ever sell it? I mean...if times...”

He took me in his arms, held me tight, whispered in my ear. “Yeah, I did, Franky...knew some guy….told me he wanted a stud to fuck him…..blew me first.” He was almost shy. “Son, we needed the money right them...somethin’ awful so...”

We stood there, quiet. I had a lot to think about but...the first thing…

“How come Franky always knows about...where guys might be for sale? You tell him?”

He dropped his head on my shoulder. “I told him….you needed a medical for school, some clothes, your feet outgrew your shoes….Fuck, Pat, I don’t remember ‘xactly, probably said I’d do anything for you….get the money to pay for whatever you needed...”

I kissed his neck, held onto him. Thought.

“Hey, if you did it for me then….seems only right I do it for you...isn’t like I haven’t taken it up the bucket.” What I did not add was...only by you.

“We don’t need the money that much, fuck, we always get along….”

I pulled away from him, stripped. Put my hand down, hefted my cock and balls, looked at him. “They’re worth something. I’m worth something. Maybe we don’t need the cash today but, Jesus, Dad, how often have we gone without because there wasn’t an extra fifty or hundred? You went without a winter coat one year….’member? Almost caught fuckin’ pneumonia just because we didn’t have that little bit to tide us over…..” I stopped, looked at him; In my mind there was only one question? How Much?

Another question. “What’d you get?”

I never, ever saw my Dad blush but this time, with that question, he did. Still holding me, whispered in my ear…. “A hundred….Pat we needed that hundred.”

In my mind I was thinking, calculating, if he got a hundred for just fucking some guy, who blew him in the deal, then….what was I worth if some shithead was already looking to buy me? And there was the issue of my being a ‘virgin’. I laughed, he pushed me back, looked at me. “What?”.

“Just thinking about the price for virgins….cuz if I’m gonna sell mine, it sure as fuck will be for what a guy’s hole is worth...fresh meat, never used….far as he knows.” I looked right at him. “Only person whose ever been back there is...you...so the only other person who knows that is….Franky but….if he wants a cut, sure as fuck he’s not going to say that what this fool is really getting is pre-used.”

Dad got a sort of hard look on his face. “Yeah, Franky, guess he does know.” He paused seemed to have an idea…. “C’mon, Pat, I do believe it’s time to fuck another virgin….easier to figure out what one is worth if he had to give his up….gotta wonder what he woulda asked?”

“Yeah, I wonder….”

There was no more reason to talk, just pulled off his clothes, let me play with his Daddy meat, got it stiff….then we walked toward the spare room….where one certified virgin was sleeping it off. We almost laughed….when he woke up, he’d have a lot more to sleep off also come up with a price for what he’d have charged for getting his cherry fucked off. No doubt, his cherry would be gone Johnson. Dad put his hand on the door to the spare room.

“You want first dibs? He’s gonna sell you.”

Smiled at him. “Dad, he’s your buddy, you’ve got the biggest cock, hurt the most, just like it would if you punched out a virgin….”.

He grinned. “Yeah, you always pay for size doncha?”

“Maybe I better hold him down, he ain’t gonna take this…..fuck, I almost said, he ain’t gonna take this lying down ‘cept….he is.”

We worked out just what and how, peeked in the door, yep, he was asleep, snoring, on his belly, he even peeled off his clothes-they were scattered everywhere-his ass pointing up. Perfect.

“Think we should grease him?”

“Fuck, no. Why? He’ll figure out a price easier if he hurts like hell, knows who did it. Kinda his idea if you look at it from one way….easier to sell something if you’ve used it….”

I couldn’t resist. “….or been used.”

“Yeah, that too.” He opened the door as quietly as he could, we walked in.

It got exciting real quick. I grabbed his shoulders, pretty much fell on him, got his arms out of the way while Dad stabbed his ass hole with his hard dick.

Franky woke up immediately, puzzled, but didn’t take him long to figure out what was happening; He didn’t take it well, tried to fight us but we’re strong men, got some muscle and weight so down he stayed.

Found out what it sounds like when a virgin gets their cherry popped when they didn’t want that to happen. Or, hell, who knew, maybe they all hollered-something for me to remember when I got into the Virginity selling business….if I decided to.

Since I was nearest his ears I told him what was happening, like it or not. Didn’t expect him to like it but….who gave a shit. Put up a pretty good fight, at least for someone who was upside down, being held by two strong men one of whom had his cock up his ass. Also, he needed to sleep a little longer; One way we got lucky was that he was still a little bagged from earlier in the evening, interfered with his coordination.

Dad wasn’t wasting time, no getting him softened up, just a straight shot then hard strokes working toward getting off in him. Three minutes later, he pulled out, came around, showed Franky his still dripping dick, stuck it in his face.

“I’d tell you to lick it but don’t wanna get bit. Okay, you don’t have a cherry any more, you been fucked, see that white jizz? Well, there’s some of that in you. Don’t believe me? Stick your finger up your ass, see what’s on it when you pull it out. Now, cocksucker, since you want to sell my kid’s tail, you kinda know how it feels for a virgin to lose it….give you an idea how to price him. Fuck, I’d tell you to price me but they’d haveta be awful dumb to believe I still had mine up there…..”

It had quieted down.

“When you get up, now or later or whenever, shower, come on out, we’ll shake hands and I don’t give a rats ass how mad you are at me….you got it for a reason….may not see it now but...you sure as hell can feel it.”

He stopped, looked at me, ran his finger over his drooling dong, ate it, smiled then walked back a bit. “Here’s something else to remember.” Wasn’t much of a spanking but probably hurt….at least there was a hand print that real quick disappeared.

“Okay, buddy, meeting of the butt screwed will get together later….you’re a member so see ya.” Popped him one more than indicated to me we were done, leave the man alone.

Franky wasn’t moving much. “Dad...You know those cuffs we sometimes….”

He got an evil smirk on his lips. “Yeah, those ones we play with...well, fuck, we just played with him, might as well give him the whole treatment….He’s not gonna be any less fucked just cuz he’s cuffed, all part of the experience as I see it.” Put his arm around me, reached down, gave my dong a flip. Kissed me.

Depending on who you were, morning was fine or shitty; Fine for Dad and me, shitty for Franky. We were sitting around the kitchen table when he wandered in, holding his wrists out.

“Whaddya think, kid? Let him loose?”

I took a big sip of my coffee, looked over the edge of the mug, smiled. “Sure”.

Maybe if he hadn’t been hungover things might have been different….plus...just seemed natural for someone sleeping it off in the spare room, we slipped mom’s old bra and panties on him….before we took a picture. Hard to know which he resented more, being raped-that’s what it was-or having the panties put on him.

He stuck out his wrists.

“Get ‘em off you shit head.”

“Okay”. I stepped over, pulled off the bra, letting it snap on his back then his panties which had torn when we pulled them on.

“Oh hahahaha. Now, kid, the cuffs, take off the fucking cuffs.”

“Are we gonna shake?” Dad was serious, pouring out a mug of coffee for his buddy while looking at him

Franky paused, looked at us, naked, well hung-just like he was-friendly, his long time chums….there was the crescent of a smile.

“Not with these on.”

“Got a point. Pat, turn the man who doesn’t have a cherry loose. Might get him some aspirin.”

I was flicking the key in the locks. “Where for? His head or his ass?”

He accepted the coffee, sat at the table, stuck out his hand. “Friend.” Dad first then me, shook.

We all sat there for a few minutes, there was a lot to say but….Franky was going to need a moment or two...maybe more….before we talked about anything.

Guess it was up to me to ask The Question.

“You know you gotta tell me, what’d that cost someone to pop your cherry? I’m guessing more than ten bucks plus a coupon for a Happy Meal.”

He kinda smirked. “Like that….? With your dad plugging me? A lot and then up from there….”

“So….if you’re giving me back my virginity then selling it…..what’s it worth? You already got a client...he’s kinda felt the merchandise, seen it naked so…. The only question is what do you think I’m worth to him. With my virginity, of course.”

“Yeah, with your virginity...”. We all laughed.

Franky took a big swallow, stood up, refilled his mug-I’d forgot what a nicely formed ass he had-sat back down….. “A lot more than what he’s offering. Oh yeah, a whole lot more.”

Dad had an obvious question. “Well, how much did he offer?”

“Five hundred….and Junior there has to suck him off first just to make sure he’d go the distance.”

“Yeah, well that’s out. Virgins don’t suck cock. Well known fact.”

We clicked our mugs to non sucking virgins.

“Guess it might be more a question of how much he’s got….he says he’s good for five but before we let Pat here even loosen his belt, we see that five hundred and it better not be in Monopoly money.”

“A Grand?”

“For a virgin, one we know he wants? I say tell him five then let him dicker us down… a little.”

“Hey, how little? This is my ass you’re selling, I don’t just lay down and take in the tail for what’s in the piggy bank….and, correct me, but...wasn’t there some talk about you taking a cut? Well, that’s got to be figured….how much do you want? A number or a percentage of the take?”

Franky looked at Dad. “Has he done this before?”

Dad just planted a big smile on his face, leaned back, looked at Franky, said… “Well, how much do you want? Pat’s up for it, now all we gotta do is for you to rope in the sucker and make the best deal you can get….this is something he wants, no selling merchandise he hasn’t seen and do I need to mention the virgin part again?”

Franky, who wasn’t looking too swift, put his hand on his head, said he’d work on it but right now….

“Go back to bed, keep sleeping it off.” He started to unstably walk away. “Oh, hey, want another back door visit when you’re feeling more like it?”

Without turning around he gave us the finger, mumbled, “I hope like fuck that door has a lock on it.”

Couple of days later I was home when Franky bounced in with a shit eating grin that pretty much said he’d sold my ass.

“Where’s your Dad?”

“Wherever he is, hey, it’s my tail you’re selling, talk to me…..I’m guessing you got a deal….if I’ll take it.”

“First, I get ten percent.”

“Okay but of what?”

“Best I could do….we’re almost tapping him out...”

“Shit, we don’t care. Break the son of a bitch, he wants to fuck a virgin, the one he knows, why do we care? How much?”

“Three long.”

I thought about that. Take out three hundred for him that left Dad and me with twenty seven hundred to split. Hard not to jump up and down, that was more than we’d ever had but….the object was to get as much as possible….I could only be a virgin for this jerk once so...was three the top or….?

Franky looked anxious, he could see I was thinking about it but….he was guessing I wasn’t quite there….was it the money? The man? What?

“Sometimes….there’s more than money...although we’ll certainly take that...what’s he got we can use?”

“Don’t think he’ll hand over his ride….”

“Uh, no...but you’re thinking on the right line.”

“Hey, I think he owns part of that gym over on twelfth...”

“What do the best memberships go for?”

“Per year? With some private training, access to everything...maybe seven fifty...”

“Times three.”

“Jesus Pat...”

“Simple, memberships aren’t anything real, nobody bought them to begin, they’re just created, no property, just rights and privileges, that’s what you pay for so….it costs him spot nothing to give away something that costs nothing; I could go for that plus you and Dad a course.”

Franky went into deep thought. Getting nothing for something, which was kinda what I was saying until you added up what they said they were worth and...bingo, there’s five grand in cash and ‘merchandise’. He looked at me.

“Christ…. If he doesn’t take that deal….”

“Hey, you got your phone? One that takes pictures?”

“Sure, why?”

“Take a picture of this.” I dropped my shorts giving him a nice view of my ass. With one click he had an illustration of what he was selling. “Dangle that in front of him.”

Franky just laughed.

Elsewhere around us there was a muffled crash. We both jumped.

“Shit, there isn’t room enough in this place for anything. I bet that was some of that case of toilet paper Dad bought, got a real bargain, they just didn’t sell space to put it...”

“Uh….what about that shelf? The one where you found the panties?”

I looked at him, “Yeah, there, good idea, thanks. Now get the fuck out, make a ‘sales call’”.

When Dad got home in addition to a particularly good dinner I had some news that seemed excellent. As he waded through the pot roast, I told him about the deal that Franky and I were crafting. Just at first he wasn’t sure about the gym memberships but then realized….he’d grown sick of either using guest memberships when we couldn’t afford any membership or using the set of weights we kept under the bed...along with our shoes and boots which had no other place to live; We really were cramped.

After dinner we sat around the table, having a beer, talking about the ‘deal’. Dad kept saying… “Three grand, Jeez...three grand”. But then he looked at me, I could see what was coming.

“Pat...I...can’t let you sell yourself...I.. just, well I’d feel cheap letting my own son get fucked for money.”

“Look at it this way, better to get paid to get fucked than just get fucked, get spot nothing cept some cum dripping down your leg...and there’s more.”

I reminded him about the memberships which had real value, something we could all use, enjoy….and for an hour or so of work? Whether he was happy to think about it or not, he was the person who’d first fucked me then, over the years, got me nice an’ wide so I could take almost any guy….overlooking that virgins probably aren’t spread that much. Someone like our potential client wanted what he wanted, probably wasn’t going to get hung up on something like how wide the tunnel was, not when he was hard and ready to fuck his virgin…..and his ‘virgin’ was ready to give a performance that would show, I hoped, my slight fear of getting screwed for the first time. Just like a virgin would be. Dad laughed, “That’s a performance I’d like to see.”

Kissing him as I reached under the table to scratch his nuts….”What I could tell you was that I would make sure you got a real thorough telling of what went on or….Jesus, this was so rude, if we could work it, no reason why you and Franky could not only watch but...make the video.”

Fuck I had no pride, if we could sell the tape of a young man getting punched for the first time, that just stacked up on top of the three grand plus the memberships. I wasn’t sure how to work it but….given my laptop and ten minutes, I bet I could figure it out.

The next day we were all busy, everyone had things to do, information to find out, deals to make, times to set….and, something I’d absolutely agreed to, getting a fifty percent down payment plus the gift certificates for the gym memberships. That, as happened, took a little longer; Getting the three large was tough for him but, in theory worrying about what I was to do, I was willing-indeed insistent-on waiting until he had it all. Oh, and I paid off what I saw as kind of a debt; We had jumped Franky so it seemed only polite to give him a shot at what he’d sold. I sent Dad off to try out the new work out place while I let Franky do whatever he wanted to do with me and, yeah, since I wasn’t a virgin, I sucked him off. Plus I had an errand or two when he finished that would solve some problems plus give Dad and me something we didn’t already have. I smiled, gave my crotch a good heave up, thought about a coach who was about to find out all there is about virginity plus some other things he hadn’t paid for then lay down, put a pillow under me, spread my legs and waited to let Franky have more than a sample of what he’d sold. I could feel him bury his cock up my chute while he buried his face on my back.

“C’mon, Franky, oh yeah, shove your knob clear in.”

“Jeez, Pat, Oh Fucking Hellacious Jesus...this feels soooo….”

He didn’t finish what it felt like not that I gave a shit.

When I finished letting him take me, he wondered if we were getting paid enough? He’d had more than a taste of the merchandise, he’d had the whole mouthful….I threw in a suck job-special for friend of the family. Just for the hell of it, after we finished, he was laying there, one happy well satisfied fucker, I kissed him then slapped the cuffs on him. Again. I could hear him yell as I stepped into the shower.

“Aw shit, Pat, c’mon….” But I left him there. In the shower I finished an idea I’d had then checked into. Actually, I liked the idea of Franky in cuffs, a little kink never hurt anyone; After I finished toweling down, I was going to fuck him; Maybe he’d appreciate it. Find out as soon as I was dry. Seemed only fair; Dad had him, now it was my turn. Somehow, laughed when I thought about it, I doubted if he’d give me a comparison between Dad and Lad from the consumer’s viewpoint.

We were coming up on not only the weekend but my performance as one certified virgin. Coach had been brought almost to the point where he would have fucked a hole in anything but he was looking forward to what he oh so expected. I knew he’d enjoy it...he’d better, as I counted the money-Jesus, why the fuck was it all in wrinkled tens and twenties? I’m guessing his credit didn’t extend to a well funded ATM. But, hey, it all was spendable. Also we’d picked a place….Franky found a photographer who, although he said he didn’t know this for a fact, had heard there was a motel that had access from room to room for those interested in seeing what was going on….without walking through the door. Oh, and, well, he had nothing to do, for a cut of what we’d sell the tape of a virgin getting plugged by his coach, he agreed to be in that adjoining room with Dad, Franky and a camera; Just your usual Friday night in the fuck industry.

Coach thought it would be a good idea if, since I had been his student, we get together before we really got together. Okay, I could eat a square meal, try and look nervous, not eat everything, jump when he felt me up under the table but kept him from pulling out my cock. We’d get to that, but for now, he tried to talk about, what else?, the team I’d played on, his comments, told me I was missed, sorry I wasn’t going on to play collegiate ball…..I was almost having to stab my calf with a fork to stay awake; If being bored stupid was part of losing your virginity, I couldn’t understand why there was so much fuss….When we go to the point where he said he bet a ‘growing boy sure would like desert’, I sent him sideways by saying I could go some cream to go on my cherry; Talk of the team stopped.

Conveniently, the place we ate was also part of the motel where I was to loose my boy’s cherry…..while getting a man’s cunt-hell I was eighteen, I’m a man. To him, thinking about the two of us…. In a bed. Naked, him on top shoving his coach’s stick through his player’s goal posts. That’s what he expected or looked forward to but, on thing, whatever happened, he’d paid for it. Only thing I had to do….make sure my voice could be heard and that the lights were all on. (In advance of our arrival, the photographer had slipped in, put in higher intensity bulbs, arranged them so they illuminated the largest area and, this showed forethought, a dark colored bedspread against which flesh would more clearly show. Of course I knew where the hole was so could make sure we aimed for that and….the show was on. Only regret was there was only one angle; I doubted if our viewers would give a rats ass.

I’d worn an old T shirt that had the High School name on it, my foot ball number, some sweats, jock, white socks, sneakers….Figured he’s want to watch me strip before we got to it. I was right.

“Peel. All off, down to skin.”

Okay, that’s what I did, slowly, not exactly a strip show but he was already warmed up so no need. Everything was laying on the floor as I turned, pausing to give the camera in the hole in the wall (disguised to look like a clock) a real good look.

“Stand over there, always liked it when you jerked off in the shower….start doing it...get yourself nice ‘n hard but just don’t come. Slow, play with you balls, pull that sack down, fiddle with your tits….

All the time I’m doing this he’s taking off his clothes. I’d always wondered why he didn’t shower with the team like some of the other coaches did; Got my answer. If they knew about them, I doubt he would have been hired. Two guns tattooed on his crotch pointing to his cock. His ass had a sun burst inked around it as well as a saying, “100% White Boy”, in an arc over his navel. Yep, hard not to laugh while working on my own meat….he was in okay shape but the cock he was going to use to get my ‘virginity’ wasn’t much...course I was comparing it to Dad.

Helpfully he moved me just enough so he was dead center for the camera.

“Like my ink, kid? Those guns got real meaning as you’re gonna find out. The main shooter is that dick shot gun they point to.

I swear to God, not laughing was the hardest thing I’d ever done. But...there was business to be done so I walked over to him, got on my knees, held his ‘shot gun’….looked up at him.

“Wanna suck it doncha…? I don’t know, if you blow me dry here...then when you’re screaming for Jesus while you find out what popping cherries is all about, there’s nothing left to squirt in you….”

He should know this from coaching. A good defense is a good offense.

Looked into his eyes. “Sir...I guess I never thought about that so….you want to blow me?” He dropped my dick. “That way you’d still be full… of your cum….”

“Well, uh, why, uh…..”.

I was used to working with men, not like this, but hanging around the saloon, the other places Dad and I went, just knew how to deal with ‘situations’. Okay, so I wasn’t throwing out a drunk but just like he’d had too much, he’d lost control and I had it.

While I stood I pushed him to his knees.

“C’mon, Sir, all those times in the locker room I dreamed about a real man taking my dick, my balls, washing them then feeding from it….I bet I taste good….whaddya say?”

We were in profile to the camera as he leaned forward, his mouth open, tongue sticking out then one lick then another and another allover my nice hairy cojones. (Cojones cuz I’d wiped just a dab of Mexican medium hot sauce on them...Dad and Franky thought this might happen so...Viva Cojones!)

He jerked back… “What the fucking hell….boy, these taste like….”

“Refried beans?” Tried to be helpful.

“Fuck no, more like...a cheap frijole.”

I shouldn’t have but couldn’t resist. “Well, sir, we both know I ain’t no free hole….”

He slapped me, hard, for that one, shouldn’t have, that, too was recorded.

The physical coaching staff in him took over after that. “Little shit, think you can get away from this? Coat your balls with ..something….”

He did the police thing of pulling one arm up behind my back; This would work if he had cuffs to follow and, also, if I wasn’t strong enough to break it but...I knew how it would look so only resisted a little as he pushed me toward the bed.

“Sir, I’m sorry, please Sir, Don’t hurt me bad, you PAID (wanted to make sure that went on the blue tooth mikes, one casually unapparent on either side of the bed.) for me and….I need that money real bad.” Oh, what the hell, dress it up. “My Dad’s real sick, this will pay for his treatments….so, Sir, I’m sooooo sorry.”

He was loving what he saw as having the power over a piece of ass he’d paid for. Gotta tell you, I was kinda getting off over this soap opera I was accidentally playing; I’d seen some TV show where somebody did something they didn’t want to do cuz their mother ‘needed treatments’ for whatever ailed her. Only hoped that the walls suppressed sound, didn’t want to hear them-and probably the camera guy-laugh.

“Well, okay but that’s gonna cost you...Now for sure you’re gonna suck me off until you get me milked after I put the cream on your berries, just like you asked for...remember?”

Of course I did, it was a line I’d thought of when we talked about this. Good one, too.

“Sir, Please….don’t stick without a rubber….you got a big piece of meat (ho hum) an’ if you got one of them, they got a place at the end to hold what comes out. Jimmy Franz told me.”

His hard suddenly went soft. Jimmy Franz was another student who he’d been fucking for free for about six months. He’d told someone who told Franky which got him a visit with us; That’s when I heard about the reservoirs on the condoms. (Dad and I were bareback men.) Also, Jimmy never charged which was maybe why he was only bright enough for third string but we appreciated the information, gave him a beer then Dad and Franky showed him what getting fucked by real men was like; Let him sleep it off in the spare room.

“Jimmy Franz? Fimmy Franz?….where the holy hell….?”

“In the locker room, he hung around those days when third wasn’t going to play, really proud to let you have his ass, said it felt good.”

(Well, no, that’s not what he said but I needed to get some starch back in the coach’s pecker, flattery was one way to do it. It did.)

“Said that did he?” I could see stiffening come back. “Well, so you know what you’re in for.”

“Yeah, he said you were a real ani….”

Had this shit head ever fucked anything anywhere anytime? Guess he thought he was running a pile driver so didn’t even bother to feel around, make sure he was on target just went straight in; Cops beating down a door use more thought and precision.

I screamed. He really had hurt me, not badly, more from surprise but I was used to my Dad and how well he used me so this frontal attack with what he imagined was a bazooka came as a slightly unpleasant surprise.

Okay, he’s off to the races but it’s a short track. Men like the coach are waaay too ready so once they’re in and galloping, their almost at the finish line. Sometimes I’d slowed Dad down when I wanted to feel him just in me but this turkey….Couldn’t resist yelling him on toward the last furlong.

“Oh, wow, Coach, yeah, Ah fucker I never thought, you got a huge pecker, give it to me, breed me, I Want You To Fuck the Shit Out of Me….Oh sweet Jesus.” etc. The camera could not see my face but I’d put emphasis into what I was saying so no one could see I was laying there just waiting for him to finish which wasn’t going to be much longer….

Yep, felt it, warm goo in me, he’d had his ‘virgin’, I was now a...well, whatever is the opposite of virgin. Whore? I took money so, maybe. Bored would be another word for me right then but...we still had to walk the pony into the winner’s circle and give him...something.

Couldn’t have been that tired, hadn’t done much...jeez...it takes me longer to stroke it down standing by the can after I’ve taken a piss and he’s huffing as if he just finished a marathon? Figured how Franz took it, coach only dreamed he was a sexual athlete; Jimmy could have stood by his locker toweling down while Coach stuck it to him….huff huff, puff puff….

Didn’t take much to make him roll off me-fortunately stayed on the bed but the visual of him falling onto the floor would have added to the video. There was one more thing….

“Still want to blow me? You got me all hot...I guess that happens when you get screwed, my dick is hard….probably got some good virgin cum in it.”

I slipped off the bed, stood up, put a hand on his shoulder which began to push him down until he was his eye to cock eye of a hard man’s meat. Fully loaded.

I almost said open wide but didn’t have to. Again, we’re in profile for the camera.

JESUS. I do not really believe this idiot has even sucked a lollipop. Almost had to pry him open a bit to avoid getting my foreskin torn off by his teeth. If there was any question as to how long it would take me to give him a taste of me, I’d decided the quicker the better. One thing….in advance of this adventure, I hadn’t emptied my sack for a couple of days so I was primed, the shell was in the barrel, only needed to pull the trigger which, I counted to fifty, I did. Oh, and pulled back just enough so he got some in his mouth but more on his face….he was ecstatic.

In my mind, that was it, nothing to see here, move along. While, yeah, I certainly knew some other things we might have tried, I wasn’t in the mood to teach a dog any trick. He got what he paid for, my cherry was plucked, he got to fondle the goodies, sucked (?) one...okay, get dressed and get out.

“Pat….” Here it comes. “I, uh, that was really great, you’re a good sport” (For three grand I can afford to be.) “but I wondered if sometime, I mean, not right away, you and me...you were always one of my favorite players...could we, you know….do it again? Take me a while to get the money together….” He realized something. “….course you’re not a virgin so ever thought about what you’d ask just to be, you know, fucked?”

“Gee, Coach, I don’t know, never thought about it….” (Okay, I was lying but then...he was a High School Coach who’d just paid a former student and player for sexual favors...also, as I knew, I wasn’t the only ‘boy’ he was screwing-thanks to Jimmy I knew what he probably would like to pay, nothing.)

“….I don’t know….it felt real….”

“It’ll feel better next time, promise. You’re special, you….you’re almost a man, not some squealing kid….Jesus I hate it when they say they will... then have to be almost restrained….but you took it like a man….first time, too….”

“Gee, Coach:” (Put me back in, I’m okay, swear it) “Let me think it over….I’ll call...promise.”

During this dreary conversation I had pulled on my pants, shirt, stuffed my socks and jock in a pocket, sat down was tying my shoes...I’m all but out the door. Stood up.

He looked disappointed.

“Honest...I’ll be in touch.”

He signed, knew it was over…. “You got a ride? I can drop you wherever.”

“Thanks, I, uh, told my Dad I was at the cafe, he’ll pick me up there.”

Put up the sign that says, “That’s All Folks” cuz it is.

I’m around the end of the building fast before Coach, who was still naked when I left, can follow me. We’d left Franky’s crew cab truck there so….in about three minutes Dad, Franky, the camera man, his equipment all scoot in, we’re off. They’re laughing like sons of bitches.

“Pat, oh, shit, Pat, I know you’re my kid but that was a performance like I never seen.”

“Did you get it all?”

“Yeah”, said the camera guy.

“Then don’t worry, Dad, you can see it again, and again, and again….now...I need a man’s drink...”

We dropped the camera guy who promised to burn copies for all of us by the next day then headed for the saloon.

Three days later Dad and I were sitting around our table having dinner of left overs-hey, even what I made, less Franky’s ‘fee’ has to be watched; We were just used to being careful so… a dinner of leftovers was fine. It had been real good the first time….

Knock at the door. Dad looked up.

“Who….?”

“I, uh, think I know, I’ll get it.”

Brought in our visitor.

“Dad I ‘spect you know Detective Helgerson….”. Dad just looked at him. “Dad, stand up, shake his hand, offer him a beer...”

Helgerson just grinned.

“Mister, you got one smart kid. And I’m on duty so thanks, no suds...another time.”

Dad did shake his hand but looked like he was hypnotized.

“Sit down, bet you’ve got something to tell us...”

He slid into a chair, looked at us….

“We arrested the man who murdered your wife.”

“Murdered….?”

“Yep, right here, this apartment….strangulation with her panties, maybe her bra. Ask your kid….”

Dad just stared at me.

“It was Franky….Honest I did not figure it until, well, the detective here made it possible, I called him, he came by, brought some crime scene people….”

“PAT….what the fuck is going on? Franky killed her?”

“Yep, ask your kid some more….”

“I don’t think he really meant to but...one day, you know how he was always here even when we weren’t, well, she was either already gone, asleep, out cold or they started something….I guess she might not have followed through so he choked her to shut her up but she didn’t so he used her panties and bra...around her neck.”

Dad wasn’t with us entirely.

“Pays to have a smart kid who actually learns something from watching dumb TV. Tell him.”

“ ‘member when I found her undies on the shelf? Didn’t think anything but then Franky mentioned the shelf...also the opening to the attic. Took me a while but then I wondered, why would he know that? Sure, he was here all the time, slept here now and again but the closet was in our room, he had no reason...well, then I saw on something like “The First 48” where years after a crime they found dust or powder or whatever from where a body had been left, not even very long...that’s when I called Helgerson.’

“I should have taken them when he told me they were there years ago...and why they were left there...anyway...of course her DNA was on them but...so was his. Also...that dust that Pat mentioned? We found some in the crawl space above the closet. He confessed, told us he didn’t realized she was dead, didn’t know what to do, found the hole in the ceiling, got her up and in there then, when the two of you were gone, took her out….remember the job he used to have?”

Dad thought… “He worked for the sanitation department.”

“She was drunk so often, anyone seeing a man, specially a friend of the family, holding her up isn’t going to notice she’s dead...just think she’s dead drunk. Off to the land fill.”

“And that’s the end of the story. Years go by, your bright kid puts it all together and….well, Sir, you’re no longer our prime suspect.” He smiled.

“Pat?”

“Yeah, Dad.”

“Pat….you are the best son a man ever had. Detective….what do we do…?”

“Nothing, maybe at trial but apart from the crime happening here, you filed a missing person on her maybe ten, fifteen years ago...can’t remember? Was she ever declared legally dead? Oh well, doesn’t matter now. Gents, gotta go.”

He stood up, turned, looked at me… “You ever think about being a cop?”

Before I could answer he was out the door.

“No, don’t think so….” I held up a copy of my entrance into porn. “Ya know Dad, I think we’d make a pair of really fine whores….tell you what, let’s go into the bedroom and practice.” Kissed the back of his neck.

I really do love my Dad.