My parents had moved into a rather salubrious home in a rather elegant gated golf community. Not as retirement, but because they had earned the right, and obviously had the money, to afford to live in some very nice digs. He was a senior executive in a well-known commercial firm. Dad was in his early fifties, in the prime of his life. Tall, just over six foot, trim and in shape, with blond hair that glistened with gold threads woven through, so it seemed. When I was young, I fantasized him as a Swedish King. Or a German aristocrat. Just someone handsome and blond, wherever my fantasy took me.
My brother and I had inherited all of our physical genes from Dad, the height, the blond hair, the way we walked, everything it seemed. Don was only ten months older than me, and we were often accused of being twins. Mom was a little embarrassed that we were barely ten months apart, and sometime she would allow people to suspect that we were twins with a comment like "Yes, they do look alike but they are not identical" leaving the thought that we just might be fraternal twins. Other times, she would insist upon saying that we were "a year apart". Dad always found her reaction amusing and never denied her comments, whatever they were. I was now twenty-six, and Don was currently in that period of also being twenty-six for a few months until he hit the twenty-seven, leaving me to be twenty-six for ten more months.
We were both married, and both of us were fathers. He lived about thirty miles away, whereas I lived about a mile from Mom and Dad. I guess we saw more of Mom and Dad than did Don and his family, and we often got a bit more direct attention, which I am sure was due to our geographical closeness rather than any preferences. Mom would tease when she did something special that it was because I was her "baby boy". No one ever corrected her though I had definitely outgrown the label. One of those special activities was that Mom and Dad would often invite us for dinner at their country club. That sort of thing.
One Sunday morning, Dad called me and asked if I would like to come with him to the club and use the fitness facilities and maybe the pool. I jumped at the chance for a couple of reasons. First, I had never had such a friendly "intimate buddy" invite from Dad, and secondly, I was highly interested in getting to work out at the exclusive club. When we got to the club, Dad reminded me that the club trainer and the club life guard did not work on Sundays until noon on Sundays and that there was never much of anyone using any of the facilities on a Sunday morning. He was right.
We spent about forty-five minutes with the machines and the weights, having the place to ourselves. It was a real trip to work out with Dad; he was in great shape and he knew how to put together an effective workout. He wore a tank top and I was impressed with his upper body, the chest, the biceps, and the way that he controlled the weights. I could keep up with him, but was not all that much ahead of him in anything.
When we had had enough of the gym, we retreated to the locker room and changed into swim suits. Mine was the ever popular surfing board shorts and was almost shocked when Dad slipped on a pair of revealing Speedo trunks. But immediately, I realized that he looked damned good in them, and his body was the type that was made for those skimpy trunks. He filled out the pouch area, and that did not escape my notice either. A few laps on the pool, and we both decided to call it a workout.
We both showered at the same time, but I paid no attention to Dad, and when I emerged to the locker room, Dad was sitting on one of the benches, drying himself. I had seen Dad naked over the years, but was aware maybe for the first time ever just how very physically attractive he was. As I retrieved my towel to dry myself, it was not an intentional act, but I was standing very near Dad, with my crotch right at his eye level. My eye caught the fact that he was staring directly at my crotch, and I could have stopped it right there, but being a tiny bit of an exhibitionist, I decided to give my Dad a little show. As I kept the towel over my face and over my head, ostensibly drying my hair, I willed my dick to head upwards, and my dick obeyed my thoughts. By the time, I took the towel away, I had a demi-semi hard on and I was well aware of that status.
Dad was obviously aware of it too. He stood up, now looking me squarely in the eye as he took a step closer to me. His hand quietly cupped under my balls, oh so easily, and I jumped back in reaction. He chuckled and told me that he was surprised that I would let the doctor fondle my balls but jumped away from his touch. No question about it, I was surprised. Shocked. Confused. How was I supposed to act when my Dad had his hand fully wrapped around my balls? But something told me that I did not want to pull away, and I did not.
Dad kept kneading my nut sac and as he did so, my cock was getting harder and harder. When I was fully erect, Dad said, "Just like looking in a mirror!" For the first time, I looked down and yes, he was right. His erection was as full as mine, and Yes, oh-fucking-yes, it did look like a mirror. Our dicks were identical! Or maybe fraternal, but they were definitely look-alikes. The pubic hair was the same sandy blond color and shaped the same. Like looking in a mirror.
I was not able to say anything at that point but I began to breathe heavily, that I do remember. Dad put his hand around my cock, and I thought I might blow a load right then but thankfully I did not. He reached for my hand and put it around his cock, just very naturally as though this happened every day. I did not object at all, but I knew that I was nearly ready to spurt, especially when I could feel his firm cock jumping and throbbing in my hand. He said it again, "Fuck yes, just like a mirror" and I found my voice as I whispered out my agreement and told him it even felt like my own cock, to be holding his. When I cupped his nuts, I again whispered out to him, "Dad, they feel just like my own".
There was no turning back at that point, and we moved very close to each other, slowly stroking each other with our right hand while the left arm was hugging the body of the other. We were fused together. When I told him I was on edge, he begged me to hold off and he would slow up and he did, fondling my balls while I jacked him. After a long time of this erotic exercise, we both agreed it was time to blow and we unloaded into each other's crotch, soaking each other's pubic hair a bit too noisily until he shushed me. He warned that others might be in the club. It was one wild session and we both were panting heavily when we pulled away.
"Damn, Son, you need a shower" he smiled as we both headed to the shower room again. I think it is a fair statement to say that we both ogled and stared and admired each other constantly, as we both grew half hard as we fondled each other as we soaped each other up. Yes, we were both very happy with this event. Nothing was said until we were both dressed, then Dad very seriously said, "OK, we have crossed a line, but I need to know, will you still love me in the morning?" His humor was exactly what I needed, as I laughed with him, and told him that what we did was a special "life event" for me and I would always regard it as such. He smiled and said, "Well, don't expect it every Sunday"
* * * * * *
That thought went through my head a million times that week, but the actuality was that if I could not have it "every" Sunday, then at the very least I wanted it again "next" Sunday! And by Saturday night, I could not hold off any longer, and called Dad. "Hey, how 'bout another workout session at your fitness club tomorrow morning Dad?" And he broke my heart a couple time, saying that he did not know whether the club was open (of course it was!) or whether the instructor would be there on Sunday morning (of course not!), toying with me and I knew it before he said in a husky voice, "So, you are ready for another workout are you?" And I almost screamed that I was! My dick was oozing precum, I wanted it so badly! My wife came in and asked what all the fuss was about and I told her that Dad was teasing me about working out, and she just smiled and commented that she liked the idea of me and Dad working out together. If she only knew!
When we got to the club the next morning, we headed for the locker room, after Dad had checked the sign-in book and determined we were the only ones in the club. I did not want the machines, I did not want to swim, I just wanted Dad. I quickly stripped off my clothes and watched him as he slowly undressed, with his back to me. I was naked and I was hard, watching my Dad take his clothes off, knowing that we were going to get it on. He turned to face me while he still had his white briefs on and saw me with my aching throbbing cock, and smiled.
"So that is the kind of workout you want today!" The tent in his jockeys indicated that he had similar ideas of course. He slowly removed his shorts, more like a strip club performer than my Dad, wiggling and thrusting, and by the time they were off and his dick was waving, I could barely control myself.
Dad swaggered around the locker room, dancing and prancing and showing off his fine body for me. His dick was bobbing up and down, as he would pause and strike a pose, showing off his flexed biceps and his muscular body. I could not speak; I was so enthralled with this show. At one point, I told him he had one fine ass and he wiggled and thrust it towards me, and I dripped precum as I watched his teasing behavior. When he was through with his show, he came very close to me, and we went into the same clench that we had done the week before. I had his cock in my hand, and it felt twice as huge as it had the week before and I know I felt that I was manlier, more masculine, more macho, and more alive than I had felt in a long time. Dad leaned in and kissed me. Another surprise! I was not ready for it initially and definitely had not expected it, but by the time I got over the surprise, I was participating in the most erotic tongue duel and deep wet kiss that I had ever had.
We were both edging, and backing off when either one of us got close, and I whispered to him, "I'm going to make this last, I am not going to cum as quickly as I did the other time" and he smiled a big smile and said, "We will see about that, won't we?" And he slipped out of my arms and on to his knees and he had my cock in my mouth before I realized what he was doing. I know I gasped with a big intake of air, and I think I nearly stopped breathing, but I also know that within a very few short minutes, there was no way I could hold back my load, and I told him it was coming. "Damn, I hope so" he said as he pulled off and then immediately returned to claim his reward for such erotic and expert cocksucking. I thought I would never stop the flowing load, it felt as though a water faucet had been turned on. Eventually when I stopped flowing and spurting, he licked me clean and stood up. He leaned in to kiss me again and gave me some of my own protein, and my dick jumped again. This erotic session was certainly one of the hottest I had ever had.
I was determined to give my Dad a mind-blowing blow job too, and whispered "My turn" and started to go down on him but before I could make the move to my knees, there was a noise of a door closing and Dad pushed me away. We quickly changed our plan and headed for the showers, just as another guy strode into the locker room. It was definitely a close call, and we both had bobbing cocks which doubtfully were hidden well and those bobbing cocks were likely quite obvious to the new arrival.
When we had showered and dressed, we made every move with careful circumspect since the new arrival was eyeing us up pretty fiercely, Dad whispered to me that it was the club's personal trainer and suggested we get out of there and go for a coffee and talk. We greeted the trainer with waves and smiles on our way out and he still was checking us out thoroughly. Very thoroughly.
As we sat down in the club coffee shop, I thought I might avoid some of the expected and anticipated conversation by quickly confessing that I was not troubled with what we had been doing, and found it to be thrilling and something I hoped to happen frequently.
Dad smiled a big smile and simply said "One cannot have oysters every day". I quickly interpreted that to mean that too rich a life is not good for one. I asked how often one might have oysters? He paused and seemed thoughtful before he replied with a wry smile, that there was no schedule but that it was best when the month either had an "r" or a "u" in it. I quickly calculated and said, "Well, I guess May is the only month to avoid." and he laughed easily, "Yep!"
He went on to have a long and serious discussion about our new-found interests, that we could not and should not be doing this with a frequency that might interfere with our family lives. No one else should ever know. He did not try to say it would never happen again, and instead, said that we needed to be very careful in planning our time together. Etcetera. I agreed.
He asked if I had participated in such events before, and I cagily replied, "Yes, it has happened. And you?" He smiled again, and said, "Yes, it has happened." Checkmate. Stalemate.
He went on to say that he was worried that the club was not the best place for such workouts, and the fact that we were nearly caught was proof of that caution. I suppose I looked more than a little dejected, until he said, "OK, buck up. If you simply have to have a piece of your old man, then call me at my office. You know I have privacy there." That cheered me up enormously.
End of Chapter 1