DOING THE DIRTY PART 2
by Robert Furlong
It's odd but strangely compelling to watch your own son masturbating right there in front of you. I was fascinated to see how different his technique was from my own - his hand seemed so much more frantic and his fingers more agile - while marvelling at so many physical similarities between us.
His cock was ever so slightly bigger than mine, but other than that our organs were almost identical in every respect. His bulbous helmet was a deep shiny purple the way mine gets when I'm pleasuring myself, while the great, swollen shaft of his manhood had only the same, light coursing of veins that mine has. He had a raised thick ridge running down the underside of his erection every bit as prominent the one I have, and his balls were as fat and as full as mine swell to: almost bulging with his semen which would no doubt be just as copious and strong-smelling as my own.
What was truly riveting, though - even more than watching my son's hand sweeping so impatiently up and down his imposing hard-on - was the sight of his arsehole between his splayed legs. It was red and swollen and puckered prominently outwards through the dense wiry fur of his butt-crack. Jake liked to be fucked - he made no secret of that - and the conspicuous bloat of his anus made it obvious that he'd recently been on the receiving of a large number of young men's cocks just as big and thick and demanding as his own.
He saw my interest in watching him jerking off, no doubt following my eyes from his impressive erection down to his largy puffy ring protruding outwards from the forest between his cheeks. He grinned and licked his lips, enjoying throwing his dad a masturbatory show, and his arsehole opened wide of its own accord, gaping to the diameter of a modestly-sized penis.
I could see what he meant about feeling that something was 'missing' when he had sex which didn't include his backside. His bum kept clamping open and closed as if trying to squeeze the shaft of one of his friend's cocks and seeming frustrated that it remained empty.
"Come on, then, dad," he laughed over at me. "Join in with me - it'll be fun to wank off together!"
I hitched my trousers down to my knees and he chuckled at the size of his old man's hard-on straining inside his tight white briefs. The tip of it had made a large round damp patch and the darkening head of it could be seen through the translucent material.
"I don't know why we've never done this before," he said. "All the years we've lived together."
I smiled back at him, pulling my briefs down to join my trousers around my knees. "I don't think it's quite the done thing, Jake. It's not what one might call a typical father-and-son activity."
He chortled at that, still pumping his large cock. "Maybe not, but it should be. Have you ever wanked off with another dude? In a non-sexual sense, I mean?"
I laughed over at him, pulling my foreskin back from the ripened head of my cock and jerking it a few times along the thickened shaft. "How do you wank off with a guy in a non-sexual sense?"
"I mean, not as part of the two of you having sex. Just the two of you as friends, enjoying a wazz-off together."
I shook my head, gently massaging my cock in what was a pale imitation of my son's rapid and energetic foreskin-yanking technique. "No, I can't say I've done that. Have you?"
"Yeah, loads of times," he grinned. "With different mates at different times. At scout camp... during stopovers... anytime me and a mate were sharing a room. Sometimes just for the hell of it when we were bored."
"You and your friends have masturbated together?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Not touching each other or anything - just having a wank in front of each other. It's nice... kind of intimate without being... you know... 'gay' or anything. There's nothing deep or meaningful about it... it's just... I dunno... a 'bro' thing maybe."
"It sounds nice," I agreed. "I can understand the appeal."
"A bit like this," he smiled. "Just the two of us doing something private and sexy together which doesn't mean anything more than what it is."
"Absolutely," I smiled back. "We go to the loo in front of each other... I suppose this isn't hugely different."
"Sit up like I am," he suggested. "Open your legs wide like mine so your balls hang low."
I did as he was asking, pushing my trousers and underwear down to my ankles. Now I knew it was no accident that he was letting me see his arsehole: he was sitting that way deliberately because he wanted to see mine.
I squatted upwards with my legs wide open and he peered into the hairiness of my crack underneath where my big, heavy balls were dangling between my thighs. I knew my hole would look just as large as his and I pushed my hips forwards to flaunt it for him, making it emerge from between my cheeks like a pink puckered hoop.
His mouth formed into a broad smirk and he tittered, "Bloody hell, dad! You can see you like a big dick up you! Your arsehole's massive!"
"Er... pots and kettles spring to mind, Jake! Yours is hardly a tight little balloon knot."
He laughed and groped under his knackers to feel at how large and round his own tush was.
"Oh yeah," he chortled, "it is pretty shameless really! I'm gonna end up with mudflaps if I'm not careful!"
He rubbed his finger around his flagrant swollen gape and asked, "Do you like it when a guy's arse is really loose and stretched open like mine is, or do you prefer it when he bends over and he's got a little tiny clenched freckle?"
"I can't say it's a big deal to me, Jake, but I suppose it puts less pressure on me to know that the bloke I'm with has had some experience of having another man... you know... mount him."
"For me, it's a case of the smaller the better," he grinned. "I like it when I'm rimming a dude's arse and his butthole's so clamped up I can't even get my tongue up it! And then when I'm fucking him, I love it when it's so small and tight it can squeeze my cock so hard the shaft comes out purple!"
I grinned and glanced at my over-sized shaft as I wanked it. "That's fine in theory, but I like to be sure that I'm going to be able to work this huge thing up the other fella's chuff! There's nothing as frustrating as having to give up because your buddy's back-end is way too narrow."
"I know what you're saying," he nodded, "but I prefer to take the risk! I like the lad I'm with to be a bit... you know... virginal, maybe. A big chubby cock out front, but a cute little crinkle round the back! I hate prizing a lad's arse cheeks apart and finding he's been such a total tart that he's got a train-wreck of a boycunt that looks like you could get a tree-trunk up it!"
I flinched at his use of the c-word before teasing him, "Talk about double standards, Jake! I mean, yours is hardly virginal!"
"I know," he grinned, fondling his own not unsubstantial boycunt again with an outstretched finger. "I've just overdone it a bit, but it'll soon shrink back."
"Overdone it a bit?"
He chuckled and threw me a naughty look with a rather delightful twinkle in his eye. "The night before I came home was... well... let's just say it was a good one!"
We kept masturbating and smiling at each other, my hand slowly picking up speed and pumping more and more of my length although his was clearly way out front on both counts.
He was right: it was nice to stimulate ourselves in front of each other. We were very close as father and son and perhaps it was natural for us to occasionally include self-gratification among the wide range of things we did together. It didn't feel particularly 'wrong' to see my son in front of me enjoying rubbing his erection and it didn't feel improper for me to be pleasuring my own with him looking on.
There was actually something rather cosy to know that we were sufficiently comfortable and confident around each other to be doing something so private together like this. I liked the sensation and hoped we could repeat it again.
"So how was your last night in Leeds a good one?" I asked him with my hand steadily sliding up and down my engorged shaft. "Come on, give me details!"
"There were five of us," he grinned, his own fist easily outpacing his father's rhythm. "We all did each other... took it in turns."
"You had four different dicks up there?" I chuckled. "No wonder it's stretched to buggery... if you'll... er... pardon the pun..."
"Have you ever heard of doing a centipede?" he asked with a cheeky smirk.
"No," I admitted. "But I don't think it takes a huge leap of the imagination to figure out what it involves."
"It was more funny than sexy. The five of us walking around like that, all joined together with our dicks up each other's butts, thrusting against each other in a sort of pulsating row."
I grinned across at him. "It sounds like quite a sight."
"My flatmates thought it was hilarious," he smirked back, reaching down between his legs again to probe the swollen ring nestling between his hairy cheeks. He eased a finger into its puffy round entrance, clearly enjoying the memory of having the guy behind him connect their bodies together by working his erection up it.
"You let your flatmates see you?" I asked.
"Yeah," he laughed. "We were a bit drunk - totally hammered, actually - and when we saw how awesome we looked, the five of us lads linked together hip-to-butt, we waddled out into the common room like some weird ten-legged five-headed creature."
"Oh my God!" I couldn't help but laugh back. "How many guys were in there?"
"It wasn't just guys - some of them had their girlfriends over. There were maybe like ten or twelve people in there."
"They'd all had a few bevvies too, so they were up for having a laugh. Some of them were actually filming us on their phones!"
"And you paraded around in front of them?" I asked. "The five of you having sex in a row?"
"Yeah," he grinned, with his cock throbbing as he jerked its thick, delicately veined shaft and his anal ring gaping outwards as he teased it with his finger. "We did it so they could see we were doing it for real... really exaggerating our movements so they could see our boners sliding in and out of each other's hairy butt-cracks!"
"Weren't you embarrassed?"
"Not at all!" he chortled. "It was really horny - especially letting the girls look at me like that. Having them see me with some dude's big thick cock wedged between my cheeks and with mine pushed up the arse of the guy in front. It felt totally hot, actually!"
"And how did they all react?" I laughed, my own hand speeding up on my hugely engorged manhood.
"The guys got pretty rowdy," he chuckled back. "They were cheering and calling out stuff, telling us to do it faster and to fuck each other harder. The girls were just laughing... I think they were getting turned-on, actually... watching five fit lads go at it on each other's tight butts!"
"I bet some of the guys were too!"
"Yeah, they probably were!" he tittered. "I reckon some of them asked their girlfriends if they could do it leapfrog-style that night to relive the moment!"
I laughed and he asked, "So what's the most outrageous thing you've ever done, dad?"
I smiled and replied, "I think masturbating with my son must be up there somewhere!"
He grinned and I saw him work the whole length finger into his inflamed hole. He left there momentarily and then slid it almost out. Then in again, and back out to the knuckle, until he'd established a slow, deliberate rhythm of stimulating his bum.
He closed his eyes and muttered, "That feels really nice!" Then his pace rapidly quickened and he started fingering himself with much faster, rougher strokes. He sighed, "Aaah... that is so good," still with his eyes closed, and I suddenly caught a whiff of my son's characteristically odorous behind, smelling much cruder and harsher than my own ever does and reminding me of our bathroom after he's finished one of his long stints in there.
He saw me watching him indulging in a rampant bout of anal fingering in front of his old dad, and said, "Sorry, but I really need my tush tickled when I jack off!"
I chuckled and shrugged. "Don't apologise, Jake. It's perfectly natural."
He grinned naughtily and said, "In that case... d'ya wanna join me?"
I wavered and he glanced at my large yawning hole, puffed outwards and no doubt looking like it could use a little probing of its own, before quipping, "I mean, it does make it feel a hell of a lot better!"
"I am rather aware of that," I smirked.
"Well, what's stopping you, then? Like you say, it's perfectly natural..."
I reached down and extended my middle finger to delicately caress my plump puckered hole. Jake peered at me, his mouth breaking into a smirk, as I gently rubbed my gaping entrance with my other hand slamming up and down the huge girth of my shaft. Smiling back at him, I circled it a few times, making the thin flimsy skin around my anus puff outwards as it swelled and ripened, while the tight ring of muscle in the middle unclenched and gaped open as if inviting me to ease my finger inside.
"God, seeing you do that looks so fucking hot!" Jake called over to me with his mouth broadly grinning in enthusiasm. Then, anticipating my disapproval, added, "I mean you look hot in a totally... you know... paternal way!"
I chuckled at the absurdity and slowly eased my finger into my cock-loosened sphincter.
"Aah yeah!" I sighed as my finger pushed deep up inside my well-used arsehole. Then, pulling it out again, added, "That feels really good!"
I started sliding it in and out with a steady rhythm, allowing my momentum to increase as I relaxed into the strange sensation of having my son watch me masturbate myself anally as well as in the conventional sense.
He grinned at me, nodding and enjoying the show, and then sniffed the air curiously as if getting a whiff of something new and unfamiliar.
"I can smell it," he told me. "I can smell you fingering your butt!"
Feeling uncomfortable at his frankness, I stammered, "Sorry... er... is it a bit... unpleasant?"
"No!" he laughed. "It's just the smell of butt-sex. It's like when you have a bloke over for the night and he's shagging your arse so hard I can smell it from my bedroom!"
I chuckled, relieved, and asked, "Does it turn you on when you can smell our sex?"
"Yeah," he grinned. "Can you smell my butt being fingered?"
I sniffed and agreed, "Quite distinctly. It's quite harsh and pungent... very obviously anal."
He smirked and nodded, well aware that his bum had a strong odour to it. "Does it remind you of when I have Marcus to stay and we're going at it in the next bedroom?"
"A bit, yeah," I conceded. "But it reminds me more of when I come into your room on a morning and it's clear that both your hands have just been busy under the duvet."
He blurted out with laughter. "Oh Jeez! You can actually smell that?"
I chuckled back. "The mixture of semen and of... well... bumminess is pretty hard to miss!"
He chortled and I watched his eager finger lunging rapidly in and out of his pudgy ring which was extruding obscenely from between his hairy cheeks.
He looked at mine too, sliding back and forth more deliberately but gradually quickening as I savoured the steady acceleration, and asked, "Is this how you like to have your butt fucked, then dad? D'ya like the other fella to start off nice and slow, then slowly speed up 'til he's banging your arse really fast and hard?"
I chuckled, letting my right hand and my finger speed up a little towards matching his pace.
"Yes, I do enjoy it when the passion steadily builds. But I don't always let the other bloke dictate how fast we go - my own hips have a lot to do with deciding when it's time to up the tempo."
He grinned and said, "I like it best when it's fast from the outset."
"Really, Jake?" I asked, peering at his finger slamming urgently in and out of his swollen purple opening. "I would never have guessed."
"Yeah," he laughed, missing the irony, "I fucking love it that way! When the guy I'm with just spits on his dick and then rams it the fuck up me! And then for him to plough my arse really full-on with his hips whacking against mine!"
"That's a very... er... stimulating image," I admitted, allowing my hand to pump my foreskin still faster.
"The rougher the better," he grinned, with his hand speeding up even faster as it frantically pumped his glistening erection. "I love it when it's fast and sweaty! I like to know how much the lad shagging me really needs the fuck and for him to know that I can't wait to have my turn getting my knob stuck up his big brown gash!"
"Big brown gash!" I laughed. "Very eloquently put!"
We smirked at each other as our hands pounded up and down our similarly-sized manhoods and our two big heavy pairs of bollocks bobbed around against our fists. Jake worked a second finger into his huge, hungry hole and then squeezed in a third. I followed his example so that we were both roughly fingering ourselves with a girth similar to that of a fairly slim erection.
Jake sniffed the air a few times and laughed at the distinctly bawdy whiff my gouge was giving off with three fingers pumping in and out of it.
"Cor!" he grinned at me. "I can really smell your stink now!"
"It's not stink," I countered, blushing slightly. "It's just... well... a bit of rear odour..."
"It's full-on bum-stink, dad," he chortled, "straight from your hot slimy tush! And - believe me - it's totally fucking awesome!"
I smiled at him, appreciating the compliment, and pushed my bum further out towards him to give him a stronger smell of it.
"You like it, then, do you, Jake?" I asked. "You like the smell quite strong?"
"I love it!" he grinned back, jerking his big cock rough and hard. "It's the stink of dudes having butt sex and it's as horny as fuck!"
I smiled over at him, enjoying the smell myself, and he directed his arse more towards me, frigging himself with fast stabbing strokes.
"Can you smell mine?" he asked. "Does it stink dead nasty and dirty?"
I inhaled deeply and was surprised at how intense and overpowering Jake's lewd backdoor musk now was.
"It's like when you've got Marcus staying over," I told him. "And I can smell the stink of his cock banging away at your arse."
"Do you wank off when you sniff it?" he leered.
"Yeah," I grinned back. "Do you wank off when you smell some bloke on my back, making a stink when he's rutting with me?"
"Of course I do!" he replied. "I sniff it hard and deep and wank off really fast!"
We laughed with each other as our hands did their work, sniffing the air to enjoy the stark pungent whiffs of each other's arseholes being so deeply cuffed.
Then he said, "You didn't tell me what the most outrageous thing you've done is."
"Oh that," I smiled, feeling myself getting breathless and my armpits growing wet. "I suppose that would have to be about three months ago."
He nodded, panting, clearly preparing himself for an imminent climax and hoping that my story would bring fruit to bear.
"It happened in a... er... public toilet," I began, gauging his response warily as I'd never before admitted to him that I frequented such places for sex with other men. He didn't look surprised but just nodded and smirked; I could tell from his reaction that he was no stranger himself to the illicit pleasures of such places.
"There was a group of us at the urinals," I continued, "standing around with our trousers yanked down, beating our pricks off for each other to watch."
His smirk grew broader. He'd no doubt been there, done that and had the t-shirt depicting that particular activity stashed away in his closet somewhere.
"One or two of the men would squat down and suck the other men's cocks while the rest of us watched and wanked ourselves off."
"You'll have to let me know where these loos are," he laughed, his two hands hammering like a pair of pistons: one making long, curving sweeps out in front of him, the other down below making short, driving jabs.
"I'm not keen on being orally pleasured myself," I told him. "But I like the sight of another man having his erection tended to by an eager, stubbled face."
"So did you squat down yourself?" he asked. "Get yourself a gobful of beefsteak?"
"I did squat down, yes," I admitted. "But it wasn't their meat I wanted to get my mouth around."
"You didn't!" he chortled. "You didn't actually rim the arses of strangers in a blokes' bogs, did you?"
"I'm afraid I did," I chuckled back. "I knelt down behind them while they were having their knobs sucked, pulled the backs of their boxer shorts or briefs down and then pressed my nose and mouth between their big hefty butt-cheeks."
"Oh fuck!" he laughed with sweat streaming down his face. "You actually licked their arseholes! A group of random fellas in a gents' loo?"
"It was amazing!" I recalled with both hands expressing my enthusiasm. "The sheer variety of all the different men's bums... squat muscular ones, broad and flabby ones. Some were smooth and almost hairless and were like silk to nuzzle my face into. Others were bristling with a coarse wiry forest, matted in thick clumps where their slimy puckers were waiting for my tongue!"
"Oh Jesus!" he guffawed. "You dirty sod!"
"And they smelled and tasted so different," I went on. "At one end were the subtle ones which had only the faintest whiff to them and were almost sensual to lap my tongue against. At the other end were the ripe and raunchy ones, which had a crude, carnal stink to them that was bracingly fierce. But they were so incredible... all their different hot, sticky buttholes, so tight and so blokeish, lurking between their round sweaty cheeks!"
"Wow!" he kept laughing, jerking himself off front and back. "And you actually ate them out... had your tongue up their chuds?"
"Those who wanted me to, yes," I nodded. "Some would pull away, embarrassed, when they felt my tongue pushing at their rosebuds, while others would get well into it - grab my head and push my face into their stink, grinding my face against their big manly arses until they could feel my tongue sliding up their hot, tight chutes."
"Oh, that is well nasty!" he guffawed, his face clearly showing how impressed he was with his old dad's vulgarity. "Kneeling down behind all the fellas butts in a public john! Pulling their pants down and shoving your face into their skanky arse-cracks!"
I could tell from the way he was really pummelling his straining rod that his orgasm was close. He was retelling my story to push himself the last few yards towards his fountaining finish line.
"That wasn't all I did," I told him triumphantly.
"No?" he gasped. I could smell the sour reek of his precum and pube-sweat. The wiry hair between his cheeks was plastered to his skin from the dew trickling down from his huge heaving nutsack.
"No," I grinned. "When they were all wanking off around me, I crouched down and did this..."
I steadied my hand on my shaft and bobbed my head down so I could get my mouth over my big purple shiny cock head. I suckled it like an over-grown teat, licking at the clear fluid that oozed from the slit and working my lips across it so I could slurp at it with my mouth right around it.
"Ah yeah!" Jake called out. "Suck your own big fat cock, dad!"
I looked over at him as I swept my mouth up and down on my pulsing helmet, and smiled at how he was gawping at me, pounding his throbbing shaft faster than ever.
"You look so hot like that, dad!" he told me. "Sucking your massive dork while you're finger-fucking your arse!"
I kept sucking at myself, feeling my balls start to tingle and knowing I was going to cum, with three fingers battering in and out of my swollen gape.
Suddenly Jake stopped wanking and held his cock upright, then abruptly bobbed his head down low so he could consume the top few inches of it. I'd often suspected my son could self-fellate as I could, but the sight of him doing it right there in front of me was nevertheless enthralling.
I stared at him in awe, watching his lips sweep hypnotically up and down the top of his shaft, his cock head remaining snug inside his mouth. He was far more adept than I was - perhaps indulging more regularly in the habit - and I ogled across in sheer fascination at how much pleasure my son's body was able to provide him with.
It wasn't actually the sight of him self-sucking that triggered my orgasm, but rather noticing how my son's three fingers were streaked with brown as they plunged in and out of his bloated purple furrow.
I came in my own mouth, which isn't my favourite sensation I have to admit, but I knew that seeing me self-fertilising with my own jizm spilling out of my lips was almost bound to accomplish a similar reaction from Jake.
Which it did. With gusto.
With my own climax abating, it was interesting to watch Jake experience his own as a dispassionate observer. He was, as I'd noticed, far more adept at pleasuring himself with his mouth and that included the ability to swallow copious outpourings of his own spunk as rapidly as it was discharged from his thrusting member.
Watching my son's hunched body contorting and bucking as his huge phallus unloaded its semen in spasms down his throat reminded me of a wasp doubled over and stinging itself. His cock had that same mechanical, almost instinctive, motion and his face was screwed up into what looked like a painful wince.
After he'd finished gorging on his own ball juice, he pulled off his cock, looked up at me and we were both unable to stop ourselves from laughing. For some reason it seemed outrageously funny to be staring across at each other with our hard-ons still proud and soaking wet from our own mouths, and our lips spattered with the dregs of our spent seed.
If I'd expected us to be embarrassed or uncomfortable after what we'd just done, I couldn't have been more wrong. We giggled across at each other for what seemed like a full minute, chortling at each other's big softening pricks and finding it inexplicably hilarious that we both had thick gobs of white semen sticking to our teeth.
When our laughter had subsided, Jake came out with, "Best think about spunking off down your own throat is that it makes the clean up a bit easier!"
I smiled across at him, "I think your fingers will need quite a lot of soap and hot water!"
He looked at them, smeared with his own bum, and grinned back at me.
"I better save a lot of it for you, then!"
I looked at my own and, finding them in a far more obscene state, blushed and muttered, "Oh God, sorry..."
Jake laughed at that and shrugged, "Come on, dad, it's just what happens when you do butt stuff! There's nothing to be embarrassed about!"
I grabbed a box of tissues from the coffee table drawer and started wiping my fingers off before tossing the box across to Jake. "It's just a bit... well... disgusting that you saw me working my own hole with my fingers looking so vulgar..."
He laughed again, wiping his own hand. "When you finger a girl you're gonna get it covered in goo, when you do it to a guy, you're gonna get yourself a chocolate finger! It's just how it goes - it's kinda, you know, part of the fun!"
I stood up and started pulling my underwear and trousers back up. "I'm glad you said that. It's very rude but I know what you mean!"
He stood up too and nodded, "Looks like we've got another thing in common!"
I grinned and said, "Yeah. And I like that you're a big fan of doing it in the doggy position. I've always preferred it that way... with another man, I mean."
He smirked at that and said, "It's funny how lads who are new to doing butt stuff with other lads, pretty much always want to avoid the doggy position... I reckon they think it's too 'gay' to have to bend over and stick their arses out..."
"Is that right?" I asked, doing up my belt. "I find older men are generally quite comfortable about getting on all fours and have me mount them from behind."
He nodded, fastening up his trousers, and added, "Younger guys can get really weird about it. If they're up for anal they'll usually want to do it in a way that doesn't feel like proper bumming - you know, doing it missionary style and riding each other's dicks. But once they realise how good it feels to do each other from behind, most of them stop giving a shit about what we look like while we're doing it!"
I grinned. "I had no idea that young men your age would view the doggy position as being more 'gay' than other forms of homosexual sex."
"Well not all of them, but a lot of them do," he affirmed. "Once they're into it, though - taking turns to bend over for each other - I think the whole 'gay' aspect of it gets to be part of a sort of shock appeal. I've had guys taking selfies with me shagging them from behind, and filming themselves going at my butt while I'm squatting on all fours."
I chuckled and wrapped things up by saying, "On which enchanting note, Jake, I think it's way past your bedtime!"
"I think you've got a point there, dad," he agreed and carried our empty glasses out into the kitchen.
Before heading up to bed and leaving me to lock up, he said, "What we just did was pretty tight, wasn't it? I mean, you don't have any regrets do you?"
"Maybe one," I admitted, "and that's that we didn't do it earlier."
He grinned and shrugged. "I reckon we chose the right time, dad... we had to both be ready for it."
"You're probably right," I agreed.
"It was good though, wasn't it?" he asked with a cheeky smirk. "We've got to do it again sometime!"
"We will," I assured him. "Definitely!"
"That is so sick!" he chuckled and headed off upstairs.
Before he'd turned the corner of the landing I thought I'd better clarify: "When you say that's 'sick', Jake, you do mean that in a good way, don't you?"
He sneered at how I was so ancient in my understanding of language. If it isn't in Sanskrit or Egyptian hieroglyphics I'm pretty much lost, you see.
"I just mean it's so... you know... kicking... immense...?"
"Oh I get it," I grinned. "You mean it's... how do you hipsters say it... maybe 'chill-brill'... is that how they're saying it in the 'hood?"
I grinned up at him hopefully but he threw me a disparaging look. "Don't even try to do that, dad," he scolded, before disappearing off to bed.