Dad's truck smells exactly the same. That’s the first thing I notice when I climb into the back seat. It’s a comforting masculine smell of a little cologne, coffee, sweat. For a second, I feel like I’m thirteen again.
But then Austin climbs into the passenger seat instead of Mom and Dad starts the engine, and I'm eighteen again.
The truck pulls away from the apartment. Dad and Austin talk, comfortable and easy with each other. Dad’s hand rests easily on Austin’s thigh whenever it’s safe for him to take it off the steering wheel. He has no idea how many loads I’ve shot inside his boyfriend. Even I’ve lost count at this point. All I know is I want to shoot so many more in there – and I wish Dad would take his hand off my new lover.
They argue gently about whether they remembered the tackle box. Austin says Dad packed it. Dad says Austin packed it. Austin laughs and reaches down between his feet, producing it from the floor.
"Told you."
Dad shakes his head.
"Show-off."
"What would you do without me?” Austin tickles Dad’s ear who shrugs him off. They’re like teenagers. But I’m the only teenager in the truck.
They both laugh as I stare out the window, wishing I was in the front seat with him. For a second, I’m not sure which seat I want to be in – Austin’s or Dad’s. I shake the confusion away.
I find myself watching them in the mirror seeing how happy Dad is. Genuinely happy. He was never like this with Mom. And then Austin turns to look back at me, and catches me staring. He grins. “Everything OK, stud?”
“Stud?” Dad asks with a laugh.
“Yeah,” winks Austin. “You’re raising a real stud there. You should be proud of yourself.”
Dad locks eyes with me in the rearview mirror. “I am.”
I blush. Austin squeezes my knee which makes my cock twitch in my pants. I know Austin noticed as he shoots me another wink before turning back to my Dad. I can’t believe how comfortable he is, letting himself go between a father and his son like this.
My phone buzzes and my heart sinks. I already know who it is - Rachel. I pull it out to confirm my suspicions.
Rachel: Billy, seriously. What's going on?
I stare at the message. Three dots and then another one appears.
Rachel: Why aren’t you talking to me?
Three dots and then:
Rachel: Did I do something?
My stomach drops. What do I write? Sorry I got addicted to my dad’s boyfriend’s mancunt and can’t imagine going back to you? I opt to leave it for the moment until I can write something a little more useful.
Dad glances at me in the mirror. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah."
"Rachel?"
I nod. He doesn't push.
Dad smiles faintly. "She seems like a good girl. You’re lucky to have her."
"She is."
Austin gives me another one of his cheeky smiles and the car falls silent for a while.
The lake comes into view about twenty minutes later. I recognize it before Dad even turns onto the dirt road. We used to come here all the time. This is where Dad taught me how to cast… where I caught my first fish… our most private moments, just me and him. I remember thinking Dad was the strongest, smartest, coolest person in the world. Funny how things change.
We reach the water and Dad starts setting up the rods. "Here," he says, handing me a hook. "You want to do your own?"
"Yeah."
For a while, we're just three guys fishing. Austin pulls out a little Bluetooth speaker and plays some Nick Drake while we sit, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the gentle lap of the water beneath our dangling feet.
Then Dad's hand settles on Austin's. It's nothing really. Just a brief squeeze.
"Cold?" Dad asks him.
"A little."
"You should've brought a jacket."
"I did," he replies guiltily.
"Let me guess. It’s in the truck?”
"You know me backwards,” Austin laughs.
Dad shakes his head. "You're an idiot."
Austin grins. "But that’s why you love me."
Dad rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.
I don't know why it bothers me. They’re not doing anything wrong… barely even doing anything at all. But I don’t care. I need to get away from it. Before I even realise it, I’m standing up. "I'm gonna use the bathroom."
Dad looks over. "There's one back by the car park."
"I know."
"You want me to come?"
"I’m not a kid. I think I can take a piss on my own,” my response a little sharper than I meant for it to be.
He nods. "Alright."
Austin stands up too. “I’ll come with. I should get that jacket before your Dad judges me too harshly.”
Dad laughs as he tosses him the car keys.
I turn away from them so Dad can’t see my penis already stiffening in my pants. I start walking without waiting for Austin. He races to catch up to me, giving me a gentle nudge with his shoulder as he reaches me once we’re off the pier.
“Having fun?” he asks.
“Certainly looks like you are,” I fire back, not in the mood for games.
“I’m sorry, Billy. I don’t mean to confuse you. You know I love your father.”
“And what about me?”
Austin glances back at my father, alone on the pier. He gives my crotch a surreptitious tap. “You’re growing on me, stud.”
The toilet block sits at the edge of the car park, a squat concrete building half-hidden behind a row of trees. Inside it’s all grey concrete walls, cracked mirrors and buzzing fluorescent lights. But neither of us care. The second we’re inside, Austin and I are all over each other.
I slammed him against the damp wall and crashed my lips onto his. It wasn't a gentle kiss; it was animalistic. We were pashing with a desperation that felt like we were starving for each other. Our tongues clashed and tangled, swapping thick ropes of saliva as we fought for dominance. I could hear the wet, sloppy sounds of our mouths locking together, my breath hitching as I sucked on his lower lip, pulling it between my teeth. I couldn't get enough of him; I wanted to swallow him whole.
"Billy... we have to be fast," Austin gasped against my mouth, his voice shaky and breathless, though his hands were already clawing at my back, pulling me closer. "Your father... he can’t know…”
"Fuck him," I groaned, my voice deep and guttural.
I didn't give him time to argue. I grabbed his hips and spun him around, shoving his face against the grimy stone wall. I yanked his trousers and underwear down in one motion, exposing his luscious, trembling ass to the cool air. There it was… hot, warm mancunt, the pussy I had become so addicted to, the source of all my pain and joy, pink and puckered, glistening with the dried, pearlescent streaks of the loads me and my dad had pumped into him earlier.
I didn't care that I was tasting myself; it only made me hornier. I dove in, burying my face between his cheeks and pressing my tongue hard against that tight, wet hole. I moaned into his crevice, licking him with long, greedy strokes. I loved the way he tasted - salty, musky, and sweet all at once. I flicked my tongue rapidly against his ring, swirling it around the rim of his pussy, pushing my tongue deep inside the puckered opening to stir up the remaining cum. I sucked on the folds of his flesh, slurping loudly, my tongue working tirelessly to clean every inch of him while he whimpered and arched his back, his fingers digging into the concrete wall.
My cock was throbbing, a hard, aching rod of heat that felt like it was going to burst through my jeans. I freed myself, my dick springing out, red-hot and leaking pre-cum. I realised how lucky I was that I never had to use a condom; I would get to feel every ridge of him. Skin on skin. I lined myself up and shoved forward, sliding my thick cock deep into his tight, receptive chute in one powerful thrust.
"Uhhhhhhh, stud!" Austin groaned, though he muffled it against the wall.
I didn't stop. I gripped his waist with one hand, my other hand working under his shirt to finger his lightly hairy mantit as I started hammering into him. The sound of our bodies colliding was a wet, rhythmic slapping that echoed off the tiled walls. I was fucking him with a raw, primal intensity, my balls slapping against his ass with every deep, driving plunge. He was so tight, gripping my shaft like a vice, the friction sending electric shocks of pleasure straight to my brain. I was completely addicted. I didn’t care that my Dad was just outside. How much this might hurt him. We were animals at this point.
Austin was desperate for me, twisting his torso around, straining his neck just to find my lips. We locked together again, kissing passionately even as I continued to rail him. Our tongues danced in a frantic rhythm that matched the pace of my hips. I could feel him pulsing around me, his internal muscles squeezing my cock with every thrust, trying to get my manmilk out of me quickly before my father noticed how long we were taking. I spread his cheeks apart as I pushed deeper and deeper, trying to hit the very back of him, wanting to claim every single inch of his heat.
“Uhhh… uhhh… mmm…. mphhhh,” we groaned into each others ears as our bodies ground together.
I accelerated, my breaths coming in ragged gasps, my chest heaving against his back. I was losing control, the sensation of his wet, sliding walls and the smell of our combined sweat and sex filling my senses. I plowed into him one last time, a series of fast, shallow stabs before I buried myself to the hilt. I smothered a cry of ecstasy as I exploded, my cock pulsing violently like a geyser as I shot my ropes of hot virile baby batter deep into his bowels, filling him up until he was overflowing.
We stayed like that for a moment, locked together, panting heavily in the silence of the grimy bathroom, the only sound the drip of a leaky faucet and the frantic beating of our hearts. Finally I reluctantly let my deflating cock withdraw from his leaking pussy.
As the adrenaline started to dip, I felt a sudden, heavy pressure in my bladder. The excitement and the intensity of the fuck had left me needing to relieve myself.
"I gotta piss," I muttered, my voice still breathless and deep.
I stepped back, reaching for my zipper, but Austin didn't move away. Instead, he turned around, his eyes dark and glazed with a lingering, submissive hunger. He knelt down and looked up at me, a small, daring smile playing on his lips. He didn't seem bothered by the grime of the bathroom or the fact that we were risking being caught by my dad just a few yards away.
"Don't waste it in the toilet, Billy," Austin whispered, his voice dripping with a sudden, perverse eagerness.
I paused, my hand on my fly, frowning in confusion. "What?"
He reached out, his fingers grazing the base of my still-semi-hard cock, guiding it toward his open mouth.
"Let me drink it," he breathed, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. "I want every single part of you. Give it to me."
The request hit me like a bolt of electricity. The taboo of it, the sheer filthiness of him wanting to swallow my waste right here in this filthy toilet block, sent a fresh surge of heat straight to my gut. I looked down at him - this man who was supposed to be my father's lover, now kneeling like a dog at my feet, begging for my piss.
A dominant thrill raced through me. I didn't say a word; I just gripped the back of his head, my fingers tangling in his hair, and positioned my cock directly over his waiting mouth.
"You really want it that bad?" I groaned.
"Yes... please, stud. Fill me up," he whimpered, opening his mouth wide, his tongue flat and ready.
I let go, and a hot, powerful stream of piss erupted from my dick, hitting the back of his throat with a forceful splash. Austin didn't flinch. He leaned in, swallowing greedily, his throat bobbing rhythmically as he gulped down the warm liquid. I watched with a mixture of shock and intense arousal as he drank every drop, some of it spilling over the corners of his mouth and dripping down his chin, but he didn't let a single bit go to waste.
He looked up at me through his lashes, his eyes shimmering, clearly loving the degradation and the intimacy of it. When I finally finished, he leaned forward and cleaned up my now soft penis. He then licked his lips clean, tasting the salt and the musk of me, and gave me a satisfied, wet smile as he rose to his feet. “I better get my jacket and go back to your father.”
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