Days had gone by with my new husband, and near the end of the winter break I had spent with him, mostly while I was covered in a mixture of his and my sweat and semen. And while I laid there in his arms, my face buried in his chest, his hands rubbing at my back, I looked at our packed backs at the foot of the bed. Where all the clothes I wore were all shoved into a little green duffel bag, a medium-sized suitcase filled with all his clothes, and a portable kennel that held two red pandas, Rex and Cassie. I breathed in the musk and cologne that lingered on Mr. Phillips' chest and played with the gold wedding band on my finger.
"Mmm, that feels good." Mr. Phillips whispered, rubbing my back some more.
"What does?" I responded.
I giggled. "Oh." I was pressing my junk against his inner thigh.
"We have to leave today, you know."
I breathed out slowly. "Yeah I know."
"I know its sad, but we'll come back every summer and winter."
I leaned up and kissed him. He gently kissed me back, and rubbed my bicep. Being with him made me happy, and as he comforted me, so I would feel better about leaving the place where he had proposed to me. Where we had made so many memories. He finally pulled back.
"We should get up." He told me.
He got out of bed, letting be rest peacefully in the sheets. I started getting up, but he stopped me and told me he would load up all the luggage. My lips curved into a smile, and he got out a pair of dark red sweatpants with the name of my school in light grey block letters on the side, a pair of my favorite underwear (bright pink boxer briefs with white trim thats legs came up to the pouch at the front), and a black tank top. I continued to halfway lie under the covers, watching my gym teacher's nude figure stumble through the dim light of the room. He obviously didn't have as many cones as I did in his eyes. He turned the lights up and got dressed into his dark blue pajama bottoms and a white tank top. Then he put on his fur-lined slippers and brought the bags out to the car. Our room was the only room left that was reorganized, so I decided to finally make the bed and get dressed and ready for the road. I slowly pulled the pink boxer-briefs up my legs, collecting my schlong in my hand and stuffing it into the pouch of the underwear, and was about to pull the back over my buttcheeks when Mr. Phillips' soft hands slowly pulled them over for me, straightening out any creases or folds.
"There." He murmured when he finished.
I placed my right hand on his cheek. "You're so sweet to me."
"That's because I love you."
"I love you too."
I quickly organized the sheets and duvet, then walked back into the security and safety of my love's arms. He lifted me up and slung me over his shoulder like a knapsack. I probably couldn't have laughed harder. It was quite simple for him to lock up with me on his back, but not as simple to get me to sit in the passenger seat. I wanted to sit on his lap like we did when we went to town before. Of course, we weren't going to town this time, so I reluctantly sat next to the driver's seat and talked about how masturbating released stress, and that he could whip out his fuck-stick any time he wanted during the drive and go for a quick wank. He laughed at that, and started driving down to the interstate.
I'm not sure what the trip would've been like cold, but with the heater on full blast, we were both sitting half-naked in our underwear around an hour later. I remembered when I was little and I took road trips, and I thought they were the most boring thing during the day, when I could only watch the hills go by. I thought they were exciting at night though, becausr I thought the moon chased my car, and the lack of sunlight, and the chance of pure danger. And now, as we drove through the night, playing Metric, Beck, and Sara Bareilles, I wasnt interested in the moon or the hills. I was only interested in my husband. I stared at him whenever I could, and he responded by gently squeezing my hand and kissing my cheek.
"So, are we driving to your house first, or.. whats the deal?" I asked
"Lets drive to your house first so we can pick up your stuff and you can say goodbye to your parents."
"Alright." I said.
We drove for an hour or so longer until the sun rose above the horizon. We stopped for breakfast at a small café on the side of the road. Mr. Phillips pulled into the parking lot slowly, then got out and walked to my side of the car, where he opened the door for me. I thanked him as he took my waist in one of his arms and walked me up to the door, opening it for me. Being a gentlemen was something that so easily came to him that I was inspired to tell him so.
"You can be very sweet when you want to be." I told him.
"Thanks, but you're the only person I'll ever be sweet on." He replied.
We were guided to out booth by a tall, thin, man with brown hair and grey eyes. He timidly sat us down, and brought us the omelets we ordered, and the bacon and the hash browns. I ate the omelet first, cutting it up into different bits and impaling them on my fork. There weren't a lot of people in the café anymore, which was strange because a few minutes earlier the cafe was swarming with people. The timid waiter scurried back over to us, breathing quickly.
"You guys don't have to pay, you can just leave now, since they're here." he whispered rather quickly.
"Whose here?" I asked.
He didnt answer, he just ran behind the counter and crawled into the kitchens. I looked at Mr. Phillips quizzically. He shrugged his shoulders and took his hands in mine. My question was finally answered when about a dozen hairy men with leather jackets, black boots, jeans, and spiked helmets.
The head biker was a man with a beer belly, muscled arms, and thick legs. His face was round, and he had a shaggy brown beard and small brown eyes. His nose was the size of a small persimmon. He wore dark blue jeans, big black boots with metal spirs, a black helmet with one big spike at the top, and a black leather vest that showed off his hairy body and beefy arms. His eyes took one glance at my and Mr. Phillips' locked fingers and he walked over.
"Hey, faggots." He snarled.
Mr. Phillips immediately stood up. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me.. faggot."
"I think you'd better leave, fatass."
"Why dont you and your cocksucker over there leave instead? This is our restauraunt you fruit."
Mr. Phillips threw the first punch. The biker was obviously hoping for a violent reaction, so he swiftly caught Mr. Phillips' fist and put it on his crotch.
"You probably like that, dont you, faggot?"
The biker didnt realize me sneaking up behind him slowly, though. So I picked up a fire extinguisher from the wall and hit him over the head, knocking him out. In hindsight, however, it wasn't the smartest thing to do. His goons started to close in from all sides. I touched Mr. Phillips' arm. He was frowning for a moment, then he smiled his dazzling smile at me. He took the fire extinguisher from me and slammed it into a pipe on the wall. Steam poured out of the pipe, shrouding the whole room in blinding, humid, air. I felt his fingers close around my wrist and let him run me out to the car, where we got in and drove away, turning up the heat and getting back into our tight undergarments.
"Mm. Tucker, that made me kind of.. um.."
He looked like he was trying to smile. "Ugh, now I'm stressed."
I cocked my head, looking at him. "Stressed?"
He nodded, smiling. He had remembered what I had told him, and knew what I was thinking. I reached over and slid my fingers over his right thigh's skin, and gently rubbed at his groin. The hums of his pleasure filled the air along with the heat. He was prepared for my hands all over his body and crotch, but what I did next was a bold, unexpected, and not to mention dangerous move. I leaned over and pulled his boxer briefs down below his foot-long erection, then leaned over and took the head into my mouth.
I could feel his muscles tense as my lips touched the meat. His lips opened, releasing a moan instead of a hum. Blowing him was, as I had learned in the past week, only a simple way of giving him pleasure. And I enjoyed sucking him off. The salty taste of his beautiful piece of man meat had grown on me, as did the feeling of his warm flesh sliding up and down my throat. I had gotten accustomed to the sound of his moans occupying mt ears and mind. But for now, I lapped up the tip, listening to his ongoing moaning, until he started laughing.
I looked up at him. "What?"
He pointed to the truck next to us, where a man was gaping at us, his jaw almost unhinged. He'd been watching the whole time. Mr. Phillips looked at me, and nodded back down to his crotch. I got what he was saying. This guy wanted a show, and Mr. Phillips wanted to put on a five-star performance. I slowly licked my lips at the man and winked at him, then got back down on Mr. Phillips. He moaned louder, and I assumed it was to get to the man's ears. I stayed at the tip like I had for the last few minutes, then went down to put the whole thing in my mouth.
Mr. Phillips' moans and groans kept sounding, but were wavering in loudness with each gulp of his cock. His dick filled the inside of my neck, reminding me of all the times it had filled some hole on my body. And while I was experiencing the sensation of lust-filled glory I had known all too well, so was the man next to us.
After around and hour, I felt Mr. Phillips' muscles tense up. I felt his testicles tighten against my chin. He moaned a deafening moan, and pulled one hand off the steering wheel to push my head further onto his hard on. Cum bursted down my throat until it couldnt hold anymore and started filling the inside of my mouth. Soon enough, my mouth was an aquarium of semen and sperm. I looked up to see if the truck-driver was still there. And believe it or not, he was jerking his meat stick, raising his pelvis to show us his meaty hands all over his swollen fuckstick.
I kept staring at the man, unable to speak. I didn't notice Mr. Phillips turning to me once he was positive there werent going to be any more cars in front of us, and then he kissed me. He pushed his tongue into my mouth so I could drain some of his cum into his throat and swallow my share. Suddenly, there was a loud honk that snapped us back into place. The man next to us was gone, and there was a woman, angrily pointing at Mr. Phillips, then pointed to her eyes, then the road. Mr. Phillips rolled his eyes, flipped her off, gave me one last kiss, and got his eyes back on the road. I glared at the woman as we drove ahead.
Hours went by of us driving and stopping for food, until it was dark again. Soon enough, Mr. Phillips pulled into the parking lot of a small motel. He got out, not bothering to put pants or a shirt on. He lifted me out of the passenger seat, unable to also dress me. I smiled at him as he brought be inside, and as he booked our rooms for the night. The concierge looked unsure as he gave us our room keys, and spoke quietly to himself when we went up the stairs.
Our room was surprisingly large. There was a bathroom at the far wall of the room, a flat screen t.v. on the wall above a few drawers, an armoir to the left of the t.v. and a desk with a chair on the right. Facing the t.v. was a king-sized bed, for what I was hoping would be a night of fun. Mr. Phillips placed me under the covers and laid next to me, slipping his arm around my shoulders and holding me close to him. I rested my head on his chest, and felt his warm lips on the top of my head.
"Whats your biggest sexual fantasy?" He asked.
"Hmm.. Probably if I were a random guy at the beach, and you and a bunch of hot, tanned, guys came over in low-hanging-board shorts. Since youre the leader of the group, you start banging me on the beach towel in the sand. All your hot friends jerk off in a circle around us, and the life guard comes over and breaks us up, then he lays on the towel and whips his dick out. I sit on his dick, and then you push your cock in, so you both fuck me at once. Assuming I can handle that much cock," I responded, looking up at Mr. Phillips. He was wide eyed, and I could feel his boner rubbing against my lower back. "Whats yours?"
"Being woken up by kisses in a motel room. Then passionately kissing my boyf- husband all over his body." He told me.
I smiled. I was his husband. I leaned up, and kissed him softly. His lips were soft against mine, and they applied the same pressure that mine did. He placed his hands on my chest after I placed my own hands on his cheek. After a few minutes of his kisses, he turned out the lamp light and kissed my hair again. I breathed in his musk, and started sporting my own erection. But I ignored it, because I didn't feel the need to ruin this romantic moment we were having. He started to snore softly, and as always, his snores comforted me to sleep.
I woke up the next morning on top of Mr. Phillips. His head was propped up against the headboard, and he was still softly snoring. I gently kissed his lips once, then pulled back and straddled his stomach, wrapping my hands around his neck. Then I leaned into his lips again, and once again pulled back. I tried my hardest to kiss softly, and then realized that wasn't what he wanted. So I kissed him more and more passionately with each kiss, not pulling back as often. Then, I pressed my lips against his gently, slipping my tongue into his mouth. I kissed him with tongue, licking up and down the meaty surface, until two hands came up against my buttcheeks. Mr. Phillips' eyes opened, and he pulled away, smiling. I smiled back, and leaned back in, tapping my lower lip.
He massaged my asscheeks and kissed me again, letting my tongue slide right into his mouth once more. I moaned into his mouth each time he split apart for a second and kissed again. He chuckled whenever I moaned because he thought low, manly grunts were sexy and as he liked to say "yummy." He kept massaging my ass, and kneaded at the meat of each cheek with his fingers. I kissed him, and it was hard, if that's how you I would have put it. I was pressing my lips hardly delicately against his, and he was still pushing his fingers over and over around my bottom. After a while, he stopped kissing me.
"Heh, little Damien's feeling a little loving this morning isn't he?" Mr. Phillips whispered.
I nodded, biting my lip softly.
"That's fine with me, because my little guy wants to play around too.." He slipped his fingers down my underwear and drew them down to my ankles. I pushed them off myself, while he stretched around me and slid his underwear off his own legs. I smiled as he sat up, pushing his chest against mine, and whacked his member a few times against my buttcheeks. I laughed quietly and placed my hands on his cheeks, to kiss him some more. He sat me down on his lap and kissed me back, but not getting near my tongue. Before I could ask him why, he kissed my neck softly and started to rub his shlong against my ass, his legs spread. I tried my best not to moan, and found that I could release gentle soundly through slow, deep breathing. He continued kissing and nipping at my neck, and I let him lick the skin and leave tiny purple marks all over it. I gently sighed, pressing my chest against his and slipping my fingers into his dark hair, gently pulling his lips closer onto my tanned skin.
His hair was slightly curly, and hugged my fingers. The silky material of his hair made me want him more, and I was getting exactly what I wanted. I pushed my nose and mouth onto his hair and inhaled through my nose deeply, then kissed the top of his head. I don't know why, but the smell of his musk, the smell of his cologne, and his nicely shampooed and conditioned hair was turning me on even more than I was now. I kept kissing his hair and sniffing in his scent. I leaned my head back, exposing more of my neck, and sighed slowly. Keeping in moans with breathing seemed hard now. I kept bringing his head closer onto my skin, and rubbing my fingers in his hair. His dark hair, that reflected his personality. A glossy dark, almost black color that turned brown when put up to the sun. Just like the way Mr. Phillips was. He was tall, dark, and sexy, but when he was sweet, he was warm, luminous, and beautiful.
"I just want to kiss every inch of your body, lovely love." Mr. Phillips told me, and looked up at me.
"Be my guest, Tucker." I responded.
I thought about who Mr. Phillips looked like. It was really hard to choose, and sort of blurry, but he looked like Taylor Kinney, maybe with shorter hair. I let him hear my man-giggle and sighed more, making tiny groans inside the airy breaths. He was enjoying this. He had to be. I was giving him his favorite sexual fantasy. He kissed more and more of my neck, until the whole thing felt like it was covered in purple spots. Then he moved to my shoulders, where he lapped and licked and kissed. His lips were yearning for my muscle and skin, and he was kissing both of them like they would feed him life. He left saliva and musk wherever he went on my body, and his stubble tickled each part.
He kissed all over me. Slowly down my thick, muscled, chest. Softly on my nipples and, surprisingly, my underarms. His hot breath lingered under my arms when he kissed the base of each of my biceps. He kissed each of my arms the exact same way. Gently at the base, and slowly down to the biceps, where he licked and worshipped with his lips. I flexed my biceps for him. He smiled after I did that, and kissed the expanded skin, lifting his fingers to the flesh and gently massaging. When he was done worshipping my arm muscles, including sexually biting my forearms and licking each of my fingers. Once he was done with my arms, he kissed slowly down my sides to my legs, where he sucked my quadriceps, lapped at my calves and shins, and pecked and kissed my feet. I smiled him, and started pulling back my right leg as he finished up. I cocked my head to the side, not understanding. He simply smiled, raised his eyebrows and his left finger, and turned it in a circular motion. I flipped onto my back.
I felt his warm breath on the back of my neck, and his wet lips drown in my flesh. He dragged them down my back slowly, kissing just above the white line of my tight, hot pink, thigh-high boxer briefs with a tiny black heart on the right buttcheek. Before he pulled the back of them down under my fat, meaty, cheeks, he slowly ran his tongue up the heart, ending in a wet, sloppy, kiss. When the back of the briefs were below my ass, he kissed the skin of each cheek. He kissed every inch, and very slowly licked up in between them. I felt his tongue lap at the bottom of in between each asscheek, and move quietly and gently up the middle. Soon enough, it slowly ran over and over at the hole. I moaned. It wasn't as loud as it was when he was violently trying to impale my prostate with his schlong, but it was definitely loud enough so that the person next door knocked on the wall. He lapped over and over, and then up to my back, where he kissed up until he got to my neck again.
He nibbled at my earlobe and whispered, "Turn back around."
So I did. I turned onto my back, where he kissed my chest down to the my left thigh. Then he kissed up to the crotch of my boxer briefs. I moaned again, my eyes shutting, my fingers groping for something. His wet lips swept over the whole front of the cloth. My fingers clenched, since there wasn't anything to grab at. He put the whole front pouch in is mouth. He hummed, making the whole front of my underwear vibrate. He was gargling now, sending small shocks through my member form behind a wall of cotton. My moans were growing more and more intense. I reached down into my only piece of clothing and adjusted my member. I was throwing major wood. Mr. Phillips pushed me completely flat and pulled my undergarment down to my knees, opening his mouth. I gave only a little preview of my hardened tool. Only half was in his mouth, but he was gargling again, just like when my underwear was still on. After a while he pilled me out of his mouth, coughing.
"Oh my god, you're big. How can you even put mine down your whole throat?"
"Mm.. I don't have a gag reflex."
He smiled at me, showing off his pearly whites and then he pulled up my underwear.
"We should get going."
And we did. We left the hotel and drove all the way to my house, where my parents came out of the door with faces full of smiles. I unbuckled my belt, and was about to open the door, when I realized Mr. Phillips was already out and had beat me there. I smiled at him thankfully and got out, then walked up to my parents. My mom was smiling wider then she had ever smiled before, and my dad wrapped his hands around me in a hug. My mom walked up to Mr. Phillips, and did something I wished I'd never seen ever again. She kissed him. It wasn't a big, sloppy, tongue-kiss, but it was still a kiss.
"Mom! What the fuck?"
"Well, if he marries you, he marries the family."
"That doesn't mean you kiss him!"
Mr. Phillips looked taken aback, and his eyes were wide. "We should um, get go-"
Then my DAD kissed him. It was the complete opposite of my mom's kiss. He smushed his face against Mr. Phillips' lips and penetrated them with his tongue. My mouth dropped open. I looked over at my mom, who seemed completely fine with it, and was even smiling. Then I looked at Mr. Phillips, whose eyebrows were furrowed. My dad kept kissing him, and even reached around his waist and squeezed his ass. I was starting to get uncomfortable. I saw from the side of Mr. Phillips that he was looking at me, making a telepathically cry for help. My face was red. I shrugged, and smiled a little. Even chuckled. However, my dad started massaging Mr. Phillips' ass, and Mr. Phillips was obviously still helpless.
But dad held up a finger, and backed Mr. Phillips up against his car. I was getting uncomfortable again. My dad was going all out kissing apeshit on my husband, and didn't need permission to keep going. Eventually my dad's hands were rubbing all over Mr. Phillips' body, and then finally he pulled away.
"Dad, what the actual fuck."
"It was your mother's idea. If our son's having a relationship with a man, then apparently I should too. Why aren't either of you clothed?" He looked at my mom, who was raising an eyebrow quizzically, and then she nodded in my direction.
My face was getting even more red. "We were um, fooling around before left the motel."
I looked up at my mom, who was still staring at my dad. Finally, after an awkward silence, my dad stepped forward and kissed me too. The exact same way he kissed Mr. Phillips. I felt his tongue in my mouth, and his breath mingling with mine. I was getting quite uncomfortable now, as my dad backed me up against the car like he and for Mr. Phillips, and started rubbing my chest. It felt extraordinary, even though Mr. Phillips was better, and then he kept licking my face. A few minutes went by, and my dad was almost trying to stick his tongue down my throat. His hands kept working their way around my body, and were groping at my ass for a few more minutes while he kissed me. In the middle, my mom tapped him on the shoulder and whispered into his ear. He grunted into my mouth, but she tapped him harder. Dad stopped kissing me to look around. While he did, I gasped for air, my eyes wide. I looked at Mr. Phillips, who was sitting down now, which told me had a complete stiffy. I looked at my mom, who nodded at me and gave me a thumbs up. Before I could ask what she was trying to give me a thumbs up for, my dad stuck his tongue back down my throat and cupped the front pouch of my boxer briefs, and then slipped inside. His fingers were cold, and were wrapping around my dick. Then he let go and pulled back again.
"That was a little far don't you think?" I asked my mother, while my dad brought Mr. Phillips inside to get the boxes, and we were walking up to the door.
"Well, honey. I don't think I need any more evidence from your pants or Tucker's to know that you both liked it." she responded.
I gave her a look and headed inside.
"Father-son bonding is absolutely essential in a family, you know." she called, as she went into the kitchen with my dad.
I shook my head and brought Mr. Phillips up to my room, where all my things were. More of my clothes were in one box, and the things I absolutely needed were in more and more boxes. There weren't many though. Only around ten. Mr. Phillips picked one up, and I picked up another. My dad came in a few moments later.
"The um, the truck's in the driveway."
"Thank you, Mr. Clark." Mr. Phillips said.
Being a gentleman, Mr. Phillips let me through the door first. I nodded and headed down the stairs, then walked out the front door to the truck, and put loaded it up. I turned around.
"Want any he-elp..?" I started, but Mr. Phillips wasn't behind me, I turned around back to the truck to see if he was hiding. He wasn't. As I started to turn away, I noticed a gleam next to the box I had put down. It was a key. I sighed, and started to head back inside again, interrupted again by the garage door opening. I peered into the garage when it opened, and almost fainted. It was a car. I had been driving my little grey buggie for years, and now my dad was giving me a real car. I walked up to it. Mr. Phillips was in the passenger seat, smiling at me. My dad was behind the car, and was grinning from ear to ear. My hands were on my mouth. It was a bright red, shiny jaguar XKE e-type. My eyes teared up. I held up the key in my hand and looked at my dad. He nodded at me, then behind me. I turned around, and the truck was loaded up, and surrounded by all my family members and a few of my friends. I heard the car door shut behind me. Mr. Phillips' arm slid around my shoulder and he kissed my cheek.
"Let's go." He murmured.
I nodded, still smiling and streaming tears. I got into the passenger seat and shut the door. The engine purred like a kitten when it was started up. I drove out of the driveway and drove down the street, followed by my dad in the truck. I laughed at nothing, and I turned to kiss Tucker. He smiled when our lips touched, and held my cheek. And when I heard the horn of my dad behind me, I didn't turn. I knew we hadn't passed any stop signs or streetlights. This road went on went on for a few miles until it got to the street we needed to get to. Tucker pulled back a few minutes later and smiled his 250-kilowatt smile. I man-giggled and pressed my forehead against his, rubbing my nose against his. It was just him and me. This wasn't the feeling anymore. It was truly him and me, I could tell. For the rest of our lives, it would be only us.
Sorry if you were bummed out by the lack of butt-banging in this part of the story, but I'm planning to write an epilogue sometime during my new series that I'll be starting, called "Infernal."