Author's Note: I'm flattered by all the great feedback on the first chapter of Dad's Helping Hand, ("What Happens In Rome..."). Enjoy the next installment: "... Cums Back Home".
Thanks to all, including Teallll, John XII and Eddie.
We're going to kick it up a notch. This time, it's Dad's voice.
I appreciate any and all feedback! Feel free to drop a line either by email or in the comments. I have some ideas for special content for those who do.
Chapter 2: ...Cums Back Home
Welp, it's time to go home.
Matt and I moseyed over to the gate at the Rome airport, with the sun blinding us through the skylight. We got to the airport pretty early. Matt's always been the more conscientious one out of our two boys. He can't resist getting to places early and crossing his checklist.
"All right, buddy." I cleared my throat, patting his back. "Back to the old U. S. of A," I said, as we stepped onto the moving walkway.
I heard how fake and peppy my own voice sounded, reaching for some kind of normalcy. At least I kept it up for our last full day in Rome yesterday. During the whole cab ride, I tried to forget the last 36 hours.
Damn it, I thought. Matt gave me the trip of a lifetime adventuring across Europe. So why did I fuck it up by letting my dick get the best of me and fucking that girl, Sofia? And fucking her with Matt on top of it all... What does he think of me? How am I going to keep this down? Gotta do my fuckin' damnedest to leave this behind.
I still had time to pee before our flight. When I came back, I saw Matt sitting by the gate, looking outside the window. I got closer and noticed he was on the phone, speaking a bit of Italian broken up with phrases in English. I found a power outlet on a table and was messing with my phone charger behind him when I only caught the words, "Great deal, eh?" and "Tell Marco I said hi." Then, "Ciao Sofia" as he hung up.
Let's hope I never hear about Sofia again — or this brother of hers for that matter.
* * *
By the time we got through customs at Dulles, I was beat. It was that jet-lagged hour where everything feels quiet and in slow-motion. Matt didn’t say much on the walk through the terminal and past baggage claim. Neither did I. It felt easier to act like we were both just tired from the flight. I'd be spending the night with Matt and his husband Steven before taking my connecting flight back home tomorrow.
When the glass doors slid open, Steven stood outside on the curb next to a silver Lexus. He greeted Matt with a wide smile and a broad hug, and they kissed gently on the lips. My eyes darted away.
“Welcome back, Richard,” Steven said to me, warm but not gushy. Tall as I remembered—taller, maybe—pale skin, pointy face, dirty blond hair combed clean. Preppy.
“Hey, Steven,” I said, shaking his hand. “Been holding down the fort?”
“Trying," he nodded. "Matt’s plants are just barely alive,” he added with a wink.
Matt rolled his eyes, but there was a half-smirk buried in it. They slid into their rhythm without thinking. Steven gentle, Matt sharp. I could see it up close now, how they balanced each other. I realized that I liked that for Matt.
Steven drove us into Washington, D.C., the headlights sweeping over those narrow Georgetown streets. Matt pointed out some of his and Steven's first date spots when they were still in college. Brick and ivy and shops I’d never walk into by myself.
Steven took us straight to a restaurant where Matt told me they were known as regulars. The place had tall windows and candles on the tables, cloth napkins in fancy shapes. A bit too nice for me.
From what I gathered from Matt over the years, this was exactly the kind of world that Steven grew up in. Nannies, prep school, silver spoons. I've never met Steven's parents, but I knew that his dad was a congressman back in the day.
Menus came and went. I picked something I couldn’t pronounce. We talked about the trip. They talked about work. Matt mentioned he had calls with Austria later in the week — or was it Australia? Steven muttered something about Congress. Diplomat talk, lawyer talk. Languages, meetings, companies I didn’t know. Two lives built a long way from Austin, Texas, I guess.
A lot can change when you're far away from home.
Oh... Right. I tried not to think about what happened in Rome. I tried. And then I thought about it anyway.
The conversation drifted, like dinners usually do, toward family. My older son Justin, who lives near me, came up first.
“I last talked to him about a month ago,” Matt said. “How's he doing, Dad? He said Lucas is thinking about colleges already.”
“Lucas is just a junior,” I said, shaking my head. “He should be thinking about enjoying his driver’s license and getting laid, far as I’m concerned.”
Steven sipped his wine. “Is Justin still planning that camping trip? For Lucas’s birthday?”
“As far as I know,” I said. “It's in a few months. But Patrick’s already got the gear."
Patrick was my older brother and usually the life of the party. He'd never miss a family occasion.
"Enrique's coming too," Matt added. "Bigger crowd this time.”
Enrique was Matt's stepfather. I didn't mind Enrique too bad. Matt's mom met him shortly after our divorce, and at that time, it wasn't so hard for all of us to co-parent. He's a good dude, and I know he treats Matt and Justin well. He and Justin bonded, from what I could tell, so I wasn't surprised Justin would invite him.
Steven smiled lightly. “I’ve never been camping. The closest we got growing up was a lodge with bad heating.”
Matt snorted. “I bet you lasted ten minutes.”
“Actually, it was fifteen, thanks,” Steven said, deadpan.
The night wound down with some coffee. Matt and Steven talked over one another, comfortable and mellow. I drifted in and out, nodding at the right times until the check was paid. Outside, the air was cooler.
It was a short drive to Matt and Steven's townhouse, which I'd never visited before. Narrow steps, black door, little brass knocker. Inside, it smelled like vanilla and old books. The lighting was dim and cast soft shadows into the narrow hallway.
“You wanna shower upstairs or just head to bed?” Matt asked me.
"I set up the guest room in the basement for you, Richard," Steven added.
“Thanks," I said. "I'll take a quick shower.”
I took a long shower. I threw on my PJ's for the night: just some boxer briefs and a gray Texas Longhorns tee shirt... Hook 'em Horns... Heading back downstairs, I called out a "good night" to Matt and Steven in the living room, then got comfortable in the sofa bed that they set up for me down in the basement. I switched the TV on to find something worth watching and tuned in to some action movie that I tried out months ago but never finished.
A few minutes in. A quiet scene after a battle montage. Intimate and quiet between two troops.
Funny... I thought. the main guy's best friend reminded me of Matt. His dark copper hair and lean build. I chuckled to myself, thinking of Matt in army fatigues and huddled in a bunker — the farthest place I'd imagine finding my prim and proper younger son.
As I felt myself drifting to sleep, I rubbed my thumb absentmindedly on my soft cock on top of my boxer briefs. More out of habit than anything. I felt my cockhead growing, expanding my foreskin. Warmth began to flow up my penis and down my legs. I took in a deep breath through my nose.
I reached over to my phone on the nightstand. Popped open one of my usual porn browsers, scrolling through my favorited videos.
College girl swallows professor... No...
Sporty babe fucks after practice... No...
A thought passed my mind, my thumb hovering over the glowing screen.
I typed in... "threesome with my--".
No, wait.
I backspaced tentatively.
I retyped. "MFM threesome."
After a quick skim, I clicked on a thumbnail that looked promising — a petite babe being spitroasted by a middle-aged looking dude and a younger jock type.
The jock had dark red hair.
I threw the blue-patterned comforter down past my knees and slid my hand inside my boxer briefs and across my bush. My cock felt red-hot. I massaged the heavy tip and rubbed my foreskin up and down, my cockhead brushing against the cotton. I stroked for a few good minutes, watching as the babe starting sucking off the jock.
Next thing I knew, my head felt heavy. My eyes fluttered closed, and I passed out asleep.
* * *
I woke up with my hand still around my dick, now soft, and my phone by my side, screen black. Damn this jet lag... What time is it?
I rose to turn off the lights when I remembered: I had to take my blood pressure pill.
Aw damn it, I thought, picturing the pill bottle in my toiletries bag. And it's in the bathroom, all the way upstairs.
My back groaned as I plodded up the stairs from the basement. I crossed the living room. As I got closer to the main stairway in Matt and Steven's townhouse to climb another flight, I heard something hammering against a wall upstairs. Rhythmically.
With my hand on the railing, I stopped to listen closely. The pounding continued, along with some hushed voices.
Oh shit, I thought. Is that the headboard? Matt couldn't wait another day to fuck, now could he?
I had half a mind to turn back around, pretend I didn't hear anything, and just take a double-dose in the morning. But damn it, Audrey's gonna be on my case if she finds out I missed another dose.
I steeled myself to tip-toe quietly up the stairs. I'll just slip into the bathroom in a jiffy. I reached the upper landing and turned the corner.
The bathroom door stood teasingly at the end of hallway. The sounds of fucking were unmistakable now: Pounding against the wall.
Moaning.
A rhythm of wet smacking. Kissing maybe? Or is that what it sounds like to fuck an ass?
Yikes. What a picture. I wished I could wipe it from my imagination, that image of my boy Matty plowing into Steven.
The master bedroom was coming up on my left. Oh crap. The door was slightly ajar, with faint light streaming through the doorway like a spotlight in my path. I approached the edge of that shaft of light, wondering how to speed across without getting caught. I stood just outside the light hesitantly, long enough to glance into the bedroom against my better angels.
Wait, what?
Standing in the darkness of the hallway, I saw Steven, unmistakable with his golden blond hair, in his full naked glory, ruthlessly jackhammering himself onto the bed. A pair of toned, hairy legs wrapped around his hips, hooked at the ankles.
Matt takes it up the ass?
I froze in confusion as I realized that, for years, I just assumed that Matt was what they call "the top", that Matt was the "man". Matt always said he was bi. He had girlfriends in high school, and I assume he enjoyed fucking a tight hole like most of us guys. I mean, I just saw him the other day fucking a girl right by my side. And he was pretty dominant about it. Maybe I made assumptions I shouldn't have — and sure, of course, I guess gay guys can flip around or whatever. But Matt? I saw him in a new light.
"Oh fuck, baby," Matt growled breathlessly. "Drive it all the way in my — fuck — you're hitting my spot."
Matt's filthy talk jolted me back to reality and I realized I was standing, watching, much longer than I ever expected.
I was also seeing Steven in a new light. He always seemed so timid, so soft-spoken, and here he was fucking the shit out of my son. He didn't look that bad either, I had to admit.
All the while, the lights in bedroom were dim but shifting. After a few moments, I realized that TV must have been on but muted. The flickering light made shadows dance across the room, defining the toned muscles on my son-in-law's body.
It's weird to see someone that you've known for years, all of a sudden fully bare-ass naked. I'd never even seen him at a beach.
Steven had a decent body, I had to grant him that.
He looked tight and lean, his tall and slender body tapered at the waist like a swimmer. His flexing ass cheeks looked smooth and creamy. A decent amount of heft on his dumper, dimples right on the sides. No shaving, I thought. His ass just looked naturally smooth, and I saw glints of golden hair on his hamstrings and calves reaching up just under his glute lines.
Each time he thrusted forward with a heavy grunt, his ass cheeks clenched in that way that bulges them out. Like a perfect heart. You know it.
Steven's hands pressed down onto Matt's, one on each side of Matt's head. His arms were surprisingly toned, his back muscles rippled, and Steven's body blocked any view I had of Matt apart from Matt's legs.
All the better, I thought. I don't want Matt to see me.
I felt my cock brush against my boxer briefs, and I realized it was inflating again. No need to play with it.
I just appreciate how fit Steven looks, that's all.
Steven then lifted himself up by his forearms to try a deeper angle, and I caught Matt's face for the first time, framed by Steven's left armpit. Matt's eyes were closed, his face contorted upwards in a grimace of ecstasy.
"Who's my good boy?" Steven crooned.
"Mmm, I am."
"And what do good boys get?"
"Mm — fucked!" Matt moaned.
"Oh fuck, baby, that's right, I'm gonna fuck you. I'm gonna fuck you to make up for lost time, baby."
It was weird to hear someone else call my own son a "good boy," but Matt seemed to like it. And where did the professorial guy go?
Steven spread his knees further apart to plow even deeper. When his thighs parted, his full and heavy nutsack peeked out at me from between his legs, pulled tight against his taint. Matt yelped.
Then Matt leaned forward toward Steven's left armpit and took a big whiff, then let out a guttural moan. Never seen that before.
Matt did it again, taking a big sniff from Steven's exposed pit, while his hands were held down. Then he ran his tongue up and down that pit. Now I could see, even in the darkness, that Steven had a fairly hairy armpit, the tuft of hair clinging to the wetness of Matt's tongue. I've seen lots of guys in the lockers, and blonds rarely got that much bush up in there.
I wondered what Matt found so intoxicating about Steven's armpits. I noticed myself pulling the undersleeve of my own T-shirt to my nose to give myself a whiff. Is it really that enticing? Hm, nothing but the smell of soap. I might have to check later.
It might have been a trick of the flickering light, but for a brief moment, I thought I saw Matt, his face pressed into Steven's armpit, now glance in my direction for a bit too long.
Shit. I panicked, hesitating between standing still in the shadows and slowly retreating, when Matt had already turned his face skyward and was staring at the ceiling. Quiet. His head thrusted up on his pillow as Steven kept hammering away.
"You like daddy's musk, baby?" Steven said, cutting the silence. A shot of adrenaline coursed through my body.
No response from Matt. He then glanced in the other direction, at the wall where the flickering TV must have been hanging.
After a pause, I heard him smile.
"MMM. Yes, daddy," he said, relishing his own voice. "I love your hot man musk."
"Fuck yeah," Steven responded.
"Feed it to me, dad. Make me a strong man. Lemme lick all that up."
Matt dove into Steven's other armpit and inhaled the deepest breath yet. Steven groaned and held Matt's face down.
"Breathe in my musk. Fuck yeah."
"You're so fucking hot."
"Fuck, I missed this sweet ass."
"Get on your back," Matt said, with an edge in his voice.
Steven lifted himself off and flipped over to the left, now lying on the side of the bed that was closest to me. He lay back, slowly stroking his cock, which I could see in its full glory for the first time.
It stood straight up at attention from a trimmed bush. Thinner than average but rock-hard. A big, round ballsack. An oval-shaped head that looked slick with lube. Six inches maybe? So I'm bigger than Steven, then. I felt a small surge of confidence.
That's when I glanced at Matt right next to him, reaching for a bottle on the nightstand. Now I felt a surge of pride. There was Matt, splayed out, and I saw him more clearly than I ever had before. I realized that, on that unmentionable night in Rome, I was so spent and dazed after I came inside Sofia that, once Matt finished and left, I didn't even get a glance at him.
But here he was. My boy.
Sofia was right. Matt's boner did look as big as mine. Bigger than Steven's. I felt my cockhead pressuring the fly of my boxer briefs. There was a wetness. Some sticky pre leaked out of my foreskin and left a dark patch spreading on the fabric.
Matt grabbed the larger of two bottles on the nightstand and pumped something out onto his dick before handing it to Steven. At that moment, the TV must have shifted to a bright, outdoor scene because, now, a bright white glow lit up Matt and Steven for a few seconds. Long enough to spotlight my son and his husband really jerking their lubed-up cocks to pump them up hard.
In the light, I noticed Matt's fairly full bush, the same auburn color as the hair on his head.
The shape of his bush was trimmed tight, leaving his thighs fairly smooth with just a dense patch at his crotch, trailing up his lean stomach.
I recalled a memory from decades ago. I almost forgot. A vague recollection of Matt asking me about body hair one day after a long family day at the beach. He must have been harboring questions and curiosity at the time, seeing me, his uncle Patrick, and even his older brother Justin from a new angle. We were tossing around a frisbee on the shore that day. Sunny weather. Lots of high jumps. I did notice that Matt had hair in his armpits at that point. I assumed there was some more elsewhere too. But I guessed he was wondering when chest hair would show up. Or even what we used to call a "happy trail" at the time. All in due time, I told him.
And now, here he was, with a furry trail of his own, bushy pits, natural pubes -- enjoying being a man. And no apparent eagerness to manscape much. Steven, meanwhile, had a trimmed bush that glinted dark-gold in the bright light. Good for Matt.
I realized I was now rubbing myself through my boxers, chubbing up my own cock.
Matt crawled on top of Steven and began to straddle his lap. Steven reached down and slapped his slick member into the cleft of my son's ass. It looked like Matt was rubbing his hole on the tip. How do guys even fit that shit up there? While Steven kept teasing Matt's hole, I noticed a bit of hair in Matt's crack sticking to and sliding on the head of Steven's dick. Then Matt lifted his seat a bit higher, while Steven positioned his cock on my son's anus. I guess they did some foreplay before or something because Matt sat down and took it all, moaning, in one swift movement.
Geez.
They sighed together, then kissed lightly while Matt sat there for a few seconds, impaled on his husband's rich-boy dick.
"Oh, I missed this baby. I needed to get filled up bad."
Steven laughed. "You didn't have a dick appointment or two while you were away?"
"Not this time. Well, not really."
"You'll have to tell me that story another time—" Steven said, lifting Matt's hips up and slamming them down on himself.
"Oh fuck," Matt cried out.
"—cuz it's just you and me tonight, baby."
Matt chuckled. "Yeah."
Now I felt even more intrusive than ever. What the hell am I doing? My hand clenched the doorframe, and I looked down at my feet. This is crazy. I turned toward the stairs again and started to slink away. The sounds of Matt and Steven fucking grew faster but fainter as I reached the landing. With my hand on the railing, tonight's sights flashed again across my mind.
Steven's full-shaped globes. Matt's hairy cock. Their filthy talking. I remembered Matt's and my special time in Rome. He did such a good job. I was actually proud of him. I'm curious. Would he fuck men with the same power as he does women? Does his personality change? I'm just curious. With that, I found myself sidling back to the bedroom before I even thought I made a conscious choice. I'm just curious.
By the time I got back to the open doorway, they were going at it harder and faster. Matt was still riding Steven, but Steven was now perpendicular to the bed, his legs spread out toward me. Matt was arching his back, pretty impressively I gotta say. But now here was another sight I'd never seen: Matt's asshole on full display, with his husband's pole slamming in and out of it, balls bouncing.
"Spread my cheeks," Matt begged.
Steven slapped Matt's ass and spread them wide.
"Oh fuck, do it again" he yelled.
His ass got slapped twice more, now glowing pink. Steven's hands spread my boy's globes wide open. I could even see locks of hair spreading down Matt's crack and around his hole. Matt reached his hand back and started playing with Steven's balls behind him, cupping them, squeezing them, pulling them slightly away. Then he brought his hand to his face — or his mouth? He did that a few more times, while Steven started pummeling him faster.
I rubbed the front of my Hanes again, and felt the wet spot on the cotton. Fuck this. I reached into them and slowly jacked it. Steven then sat up so their torsos touched. They made out, hands in each other's hair. Then Steven forced Matt backward, down onto his back, never pulling out of him, keeping themselves joined, cock in ass. Steven climbed on top of Matt. Matt's head was now hanging over the side of the bed, slightly upside down. Steven kissed his neck, sucked his neck, and fired away, pulling at Matt's hair. I had to take a double take at Matt's face, upside down in the dim light. From this angle, he almost looked like a younger version of his uncle Patrick.
Matt whispered greedily, "Fuck me harder."
Steven grabbed Matt by the throat. It was such a show of force, so sudden, that I almost felt defensive of Matt. Another moan escaped Matt's clenched throat, his eyes rolled backward. Steven loomed over him, and for a brief second, I thought I saw Matt look at me again, half-smirking. I hid further behind the door impulsively. but no quick movements.
Matt whispered to Steven, while pushing him off: "Get against the headboard. I want to ride you to cum."
Steven pushed himself backward and I heard a wet smack as his cock popped out of Matt's asshole. Matt crawled toward him on all fours and I saw his two tight globes, lightly hairy on the cheeks, in full view. Fuck. Who knew he was a stud under that suit.
Back in position, Matt slammed his ass onto Steven. Aggressive.
"Give me that hot cum. I want you to breed me."
"You want this, baby? I've been holding it for days to flood your guts."
"Fuck yeah. Squirt it in me."
"What do you say?"
"Please."
"Please what?"
"Please, daaaad. Fuck, fill me up. Fuck, it's so deeeep. I'm gonna— don't stop, don't stop, don't stop. I'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming—" Matt said, leaning backwards, his back resting on Steven's raised knees, his hands on the bed on either side of him.
"—shoot it on me—"
"Fuck, take it."
"Oh i'm cumming too, fuck—" Steven squealed.
Steven shoved his hips so high that his ass lifted off the bed. He thrusted into Matt up to the hilt.
Right as Matt came hands-free. Ropes of my son's thick, creamy load caught the light and splattered across the headboard. Three? Four? Count 'em. I didn't know it was even possible to cum without stroking it.
It looked one squirt even hit Steven on the cheek or the ear. They fell into each other and panted like dogs. Steven wiped his face, and Matt kissed him to lick it up.
Creamy? Watery? It's been a while, but I mean, who among us hasn't tasted our own splooge out of curiosity once we started shooting it?
They paused and Steven laughed. "Ew," he said. Then they collapsed again, laughing.
My throbbing dadcock was just about to bust the seams of my jockeys. Meanwhile, Matt and Steven were dazed in a spell and cuddling, so now was my chance. I tiptoed down the rest of the hallway toward the bathroom. Fuck the pills for now. I needed to get my nut out.
Sliding into the dark bathroom, I quietly closed the door and flipped the lights on, careful not to turn on the noisy fan overhead. I was standing right in front of a full-length mirror. My left hand was still cupping my bulge. My ratty gray T-shirt had sweat stains blossoming in my pits. Looking into my eyes, I looked high as a kite.
What the fuck was that all about? I thought.
I planted my ass on the edge of the sink, still staring at the full-length mirror on the wall. I lowered the waistband of my Hanes, hooking it underneath my steamy nuts, watching my fat cock spring up and bounce. I felt a bit annoyed now seeing how paunchy my belly's gotten. Definitely not in my prime anymore. But my cock still looked pretty good. Full, natural bush, not drowning out my dick.
I pulled my penis to the side to get a fuller look at it. It's like seeing it for the first time, now comparing my penis to the image of Matt's in my head. Mine's a bit darker. Around the sack too. Uncut, of course. That's a given. I wondered if Matt had that same vein I have here on the underside. I pulled down my foreskin until my slick glans was fully out and compared it now to Matt's. Yeah. That looks more like it.
Just then, I glanced in the corner and saw a pair of white trunk underwear hanging halfway out of a hamper. I don't remember those being there when I took a shower a few hours ago. Wonder whose those are. Matt's? Steven's? One of them must have taken a shower after me.
Maybe they're Steven's. I flashed back to the first glance I got of Steven's ass just a while ago. Full and firm, with a little give. The way they clenched when they thrusted with power into my son.
Or maybe they're Matt's. Damn, he's grown up so well. No longer just my nerd on the sidelines. Good for him. He's got a fit body, keeps it in prime shape. He was never the athletic type like Justin when they were growing up, even a little chubby. But look at him now. Even at 39. Fairly skinny but delts growing like small boulders. Lean abs. Thick legs. And a tight, muscular ass.
I shook my head with a shiver. Something else, something else.
I walked over to the toilet seat and sat down slowly. How about Audrey? Yeah. Her full and perky titties. The way they bounce over my face when she's riding me. I'm stroking my cock again, thinking about us cuddling. I'm cradling her while we're lying down, and her head's on my chest.
Suddenly in my mind, I'm turning her onto her side and asking her to turn around. I squeeze one of her ass cheeks. Eyes closed.
"Maybe... just this one time," I hear myself say in my imagination. "Baby... Let's try anal."
My eyes jolt open and I glance at the damn white briefs hanging out of the hamper like a creampie. Whose ass in there? Matt's? Steven's? Fuck.
My cockhead inflated in my hand. The size of a golfball. I pointed it down between my legs into the porcelain bowl. Here it goes. Daddy spunk. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me, as I clenched my thigh with my other hand. Kept my breath low. Clenched my eyes tight. My toes too. And felt each spurt shoot out of my dadcock.
It's been three now. Four. On the fifth rope of cum, I looked back at the briefs, now with a feeling of resignation. Confusion. Panic.
I couldn't risk being overheard, so no flushing. I took a long banner of toilet paper, wiped my hands, and placed it over the strands of cum floating on the water underneath me. I remembered to grab those stupid pills, turned off the light, and slipped back out into the hallway.
The hallway was fully dark now. No light streamed in from Matt and Steven's bedroom anymore, and the apartment was deathly quiet. I crept further down the hallway and saw the bedroom door was closed. They must've called it a night. Crossing the hallway will be easier this time. I felt relieved.
Until I glanced up, just as I was approaching the landing. There, perched up in the corner by the ceiling. I hadn't seen it. There, stirring a sense of dread in my stomach. I didn't know. There was a teeny, red flashing light. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. A small home security camera. All along.
Staring at me right down the barrel of the hallway.
-- To be continued --
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