Hot Lunch

One of the last ones from Season One of the Xmas Tales, and a personal favorite of mine. Hope you enjoy...

So I drew the short straw for duty this year. I didn’t mind so much - Christmas was a lot mellower now the kids were grown and in college, and not so prone to getting up before dawn, desperate to see what was waiting for them under the tree. My wife had propped up her iPad on the coffee table in the living room so I could Skype in when Shawn and Mandy finally stirred their asses from bed for the gift exchange this morning, so that worked out fine. Plus, I was pulling double overtime pay, and with campus basically deserted, there wasn’t much to do but man the desk, and go out on patrol every so often. Throw in a few extra paid leave days for my trouble, and I could take Janey to Jamaica for her birthday this year. As the youngest officer, Connors had drawn short straw with me, so we traded off on drive-arounds, and otherwise kept each other company. He was a good kid, young and enthusiastic, and he seemed to have taken to me as kind of a mentor figure. So all in all, it wasn’t the worst shift in the world - we’d have plenty of them, once the kids started to flood back onto campus in the new year.

The front door to the station swung open, and there was Shawn, carrying some complicated Tupperware contraption of Janey’s and a Trader Joe’s bag, a smile on his face.

“Hey guys,” he said. “Mom didn’t think it was right that you wouldn’t get a home-cooked meal for Christmas lunch, so she’s hooked you up.”

I had to smile at that. Janey was one hell of a cook, and missing her lunch was my only real regret about pulling duty today. Connors was smiling too, because he was a big young dude and perpetually hungry, looking big-eyed and excited as Shawn came around the desk and started laying everything out. Turkey, potatoes, macaroni and cheese, stuffing, green bean casserole, and slices of each of her pies - sweet potato and chocolate-bourbon-pecan. My stomach growled out loud at the sight, and Connors was practically drooling down the front of his uniform. Shawn pulled a jug of sweet tea out of the bag, some Christmasy disposable plates and cutlery, and gestured at the spread with a flourish.

“Let’s eat, guys,” he said, and we practically fell on the food together. I loved that Shawn had held off from eating with the girls at home to come eat with me. Loved my big kid anyway, was proud as hell of him. Damn glad he wasn’t going to school here in Gainesville, either, so I wouldn’t have to be in the uncomfortable position of encountering him in the course of my day-to-day. He had a good head on those big shoulders of his, and I knew he was generally making good decisions down there at State in Tallahassee. I knew his coach pretty well, and he kept the baseball team in pretty good check, unlike the clusterfuck free-for-all that was their football program.

Connors wasn’t but a couple years older than Shawn, and I just sat back and ate, enjoying listening to them talking about football, their Jeeps, young dude stuff. Proud of the man my son had become - was still becoming, really. Smart, confident, thoughtful, engaged. And not to mention, handsome as hell, if I did say so myself. Built big and strong naturally, even before he’d started bulking up for varsity baseball. The spitting image of me at that age - or at least, if I’d had access to the kind of high-tech, top-of-the-line weight training facilities he did back in my own college days.

The three of us ate handsomely, and still there was plenty left over when we set our plates down and rubbed our full bellies contentedly.

“Nobody to fix you Christmas dinner tonight, Connors?” I asked, and he shook his head a little ruefully.

“Just me, sir,” he said. “O’Malleys is supposed to be open later tonight - might head over there and get a burger and a beer.”

“Well, take the leftovers here with you, bud,” I said, pushing the Tupperware Shawn had reboxed over to him. “And if you ever need a hot meal, you know Janey would love to take care of you.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said, ducking his handsome blond head with a blush and a smile. “Why don’t y’all take a little time, go outside and enjoy the weather? I’ve got the desk covered.”

“Sounds good to me,” Shawn said, patting his full, but still perfectly flat belly and stretching contentedly. “Can’t have you guys going into turkey coma on shift, right?”

We had a good chuckle at that, then Shawn and I picked up the rest of the lunch stuff to take out to his car, and headed out into the warm early-afternoon air.

“How long you think you got?” Shawn said as the door swung closed behind us.

“I think I can take a little while,” I said with a grin that Shawn returned. I knew what was on his mind. As soon as he’d come through the door carrying all that food, his T-shirt stretched across the big plates of his pecs, that smile on his face, it had been very much on my mind too.

His Wrangler was parked around the side of the building, shielded from view by the brick wall and a long hedge running along the side of the station lot. We put the lunch stuff in the passenger-side footwell, and when he closed the door and turned to me with that big smile of his, I was more than ready for him. I slipped my arms around his tight waist, loving the happy little grunt he let out when I squeezed his muscular young jock form, and met his parted lips with mine.

We both grunted into the kiss, our tongues dancing lazily, then with more intent, as I backed him up against the bright yellow half-door of the Wrangler and pushed our incestuous kiss even deeper. His mouth tasted like turkey and iced tea, but he could have tasted like mud and I’d have devoured his tongue just as eagerly. He was a damn good kisser, like I’d been told I was, and like me, he really loved to do it - you could tell by the instant bones we were both throwing, as he propped one foot on the Wrangler’s running board, spreading his big baseball player’s thighs a little, his hands cupping my ass through my uniform pants and pulling my groin up harder against his.

“Damn, wish we had time to go someplace, bud,” I grunted when we parted for a minute, running my hands up and down his thick lats, down to the deep-dimpled sides of his thick-muscled ass, as he palmed mine too.

“Who says we have to go anywhere, Dad?” he said with a mischievous grin that I couldn’t help return.

“What, you mean…” I said, and he nodded, grinning wider.

I looked around. The lot was empty except for my truck, Connors’ Cherokee, the old unmarked CVPI, and the newer marked unit me and Connors were trading off patrols in today. Campus was absolutely dead, nothing stirring but the birds and the squirrels. The air was typically Florida-warm. Not a soul around, but me and my boy. I felt my cock twitch in my pants, and I know Shawn felt it too, because he throbbed his against me right back.

“I’ve always wanted to do it with you at the station, Dad,” he grinned, leaning in to buzz his lips up the side of my neck to my ear. “This could be, like… my Christmas present, yeah?”

I turned my head to meet his lips, and fed him my tongue, thick and wet and deep. Sure, I’d had some fun in station buildings over the years. We all did, or tried to, at one time or another. I’d fucked a load out of my boy on the back seat of that old unmarked Crown Vic, in fact, one evening after one of his baseball practices back in high school. He’d cleaned up the cum in the garage afterwards with a smile and a revived hardon, and then I’d fucked another load up into him with him bent over the trunk, his high, tight, perfectly muscled jock tail arched up to meet my thrusts.

“So… you wanna do this right here, huh buddy?” I growled in his ear, reaching down to palm the big bulge in his sorts, feeling him throb and shiver as I slow-rubbed his big young piece. “Show the whole world how this big jock stud likes his Daddy to fuck him?”

“Ah, sir,” he moaned, then attacked my mouth hungrily. “Not here… c’mon…”

Shawn took my hand and dragged me across to the edge of the parking lot, where the cruisers were parked. There was actually a short hedge here, between the lot and the little side street that ran past the station. I figured he wanted to hop in the marked Crown Vic, as he pulled me to him to kiss again, me pressing his big, healthy young body up against the car. But no.

“You remember that night in the garage?” he said, grinning, nodding his head at the unmarked Crown Vic parked next to us. “That was that one, yeah?”

“You think I’d forget a thing like that, buddy?” I growled, leaning in to lick up the side of his neck, tasting the healthy sweat forming there.

“I still jack off thinking about it, Dad,” he growled back at me, and then we just had to kiss again. My cock felt like a foot long in my uniform trousers, ready to bust out and go buck wild on my studly jock kid. Didn’t matter where. Didn’t matter if there were a hundred people and a CNN camera crew there - as worked up as he was getting me, I’d do him just the same. The little fucker was every inch my boy, alright - a lusty, horny chip off the old block.

He slid around the back of the marked car, planting his hands flat on the trunklid like he was being arrested, as he spread his long, muscled legs apart and pushed his ass up in the air, shifting it from side by side, knowing exactly how the thick muscles of his jock ass looked in those shiny black basketball shorts of his.

“You looking to get frisked, huh kid?” I said, voice deep and low and husky like it always got for him at times like these. I ran my hand over the firm, rounded muscle of his tail, the edge of my fingers slipping into his cleft, giving him a solid squeeze, making him moan and push back against my hand.

“Not here for cop games, Dad,” he moaned, looking over his shoulder at me. “Love that shit… but no… I just want you to…”

“You want me to take care of you right, huh son?” I said in his ear, as I pressed up tight against that spectacular ass of his, letting him feel the hard cop steel in my pants as it ground up against his crack. I bet those nylon shorts made him good and sweaty in there. I licked my lips at the prospect.

“Fuck yeah… like you always have, sir… Dad…” he grunted, grinding back against me.

I pushed back off him, grabbed hold of his shorts and the underwear beneath, whatever they were, and yanked them down, exposing that big, sexy ass of his to the warm afternoon air. He moaned at that, and again, deeper when I clapped my hands to the warm flesh of them. I loved the trace of jiggle to his butt, all that steely, natural muscle he'd always had, built up on the squat rack since early high school, now getting a nice little layer of perfect flesh over the top of it. The ass of a man, not the hard-carved piece of sculpture he’d had as a teenager. I’d loved that ass, but I loved this one even more.

“Anybody else fucking this stud ass, kid?” I growled, groping and squeezing it, feeling the faint traces of sweat on the skin, my mouth starting to water. “Your coach? Your teammates? Your frat bros?”

“No sir,” he practically panted. “Just you. Only ever you.”

“You know you can, son,” I said, leaning up along his broad back, my lips pressed to the side of his ear, loving how he shivered at the sensations, the depth of my voice burrowing into his head. “I don’t mind. So long as you tell me about it.”

“I would, sir… Dad… but I don’t need them. Not now. Just you. Now.”

“Anything for you, baby boy,” I half-whispered in his ear, and he quivered and moaned a little as I slid down, crouching down behind his upraised tail, laying my hands on it and leaning in to lick his big, muscly cheeks. Fuck yeah. Salty, tangy, that trace of midday musk about him. The taste of a healthy young man. It had always tweaked my cock, bigtime, even if I did love to bury my face in a woman’s cunt and lick her to orgasm, before letting her sweet, soft, wet insides encase my cock. Yeah… I loved it all. And right now, my boy was what I loved best, ripe and rich and ready for me, like he always had been.

I knew he’d showered this morning just before he came over, because I could smell his bodywash, mixing in with the richness of his musk, an intoxicating brew of masculine scents that had my mouth watering even more. I couldn’t hold back. Sure, I’d eaten handsomely at lunch just now, but I was hungry for something more. The other homemade meal my boy had brought me. So I pushed his thick, muscly cheeks apart and dove right in, licking, lapping, sucking on his crack, his inner cheeks, his taint, all of him. I left hickeys up the deep insides of his glutes, making him gasp, overlaying his sweat with my spit, then devouring all of it, as I worked down to his hole. Always so tight, like it was cherry, though we’d burned that bridge years ago, him and me. Smooth back then, but nicely dusted with traces of dark brown fur now, that fanned up the insides of his salty cleft to the small of his back. Real light now, but I knew he was gonna have a nice little welcome mat like I did back there.

His hole was so damn tight around my tongue, as I made the thick, wet muscle that lived inside my mouth into as hard a point as I could, licking him open, making him bloom for me, before pushing it up inside of him. Immediately I could taste coconut, which threw me for a minute, until I thought about that Trader Joe’s bag he’d brought to the station, which made me think of the jar of Trader Joe’s coconut oil Janey had brought home, which I’d held in my hand and frowned at, wondering what the fuck you used it for. And now I knew. Probably not one of the widely advertised uses, but damn, it sure was rich and slick up inside of Shawn. Tropical-tasting, in a way. I chuckled at the audacity of my boy, no doubt secreting the jar of oil to the bathroom or his bedroom, and sliding his gooped-up fingers inside of himself before he came over. Little stud fucker was prepared, and bold, and I loved him even harder for his ballsy, pervy audacity. It was the side of him he apparently only let me really see, and I felt a complex mix of pride, awe, lust and honor, as I feasted richly on his tight, coconut-slicked hole, spreading it all over my tongue and further around his insides, as my clean-shaven chin ground and worked against his sweaty, sparsely haired taint.

He moaned and bucked his ass back against my face, and when I reached up under the fork of his thighs to cup his big, smooth-shaven balls - kids these days… - I found the big, healthy throb of his cock, a beautiful piece of young man’s meat that was a virtual twin of mine. I wrapped my hand round it, feeling it throbbing and a little sticky, making him practically whimper as I gave it a slide with my hand, and tongued my way up inside his pucker.

“Don’t!” he yelped sharply, reaching down to grab hold of my wrist with a steely batter’s grip. “Not now… not yet… fuck it out of me, Dad… sir…”

Even deep in the fog of lust like I was, like getting physical with my boy always got me, I still had to remember that I was on duty, in uniform, and technically out in public. Even if there was literally nobody around to see us. I gave Shawn’s ass a solid smack that set off a hot little jiggle in the fine flesh of it, then look around in all directions. Still nobody but the squirrels, and they didn’t give a shit, one way or the other. They were just trying to get their nut, just like I was. I grinned, then turned back to Shawn’s rump, licking my way up his cleft, over the small of his back, tracing the sweat up the length of his spine, pushing his T-shirt up to the back of his neck as I went, as my hand fumbled with my pants.

“You wanna get fucked right out in the open by your own Dad, huh jock?” I murmured in his ear, as the weight of my belt pulled my pants to the ground, unveiling the huge, leaky bulge of my Dad cock in my briefs. I pressed it, all hot and fleshy and hard, up against my son’s deep crack, pulling another moan and a slow backwards grind out of him.

“Fuck yeah, sir,” he moaned. “Make me cum all over your cruiser, Dad. Mark it up with your son’s fuckin’ cum. Like we did the other one.”

I loved that he kissed his mother with that mouth, and even more that he kissed me with it. Definitely a different kind of kiss, to be sure. Janey liked to get frisky in bed, and liked to hear me growl out lusty, nasty things when she was really wound up - hell, she was even randier in middle age than she’d been in our early twenties - but nobody talked dirty back to me like Shawn did. Last time I’d been able to raunch out verbally so consistently was with my old fuckbud back at the Academy, and doing it with Shawn was ten times as hot, because after all, I was the one who’d taught him how to speak in the first place. His first word had been “Dada”, and I’d taught him how to use the word “Daddy” too.

I took hold of his strong ballplayer’s hand and brought it back to my crotch, where he took over, rubbing and squeezing it, feeling the cock that had made him, all big and wet and aching hard for him and his sweet, muscular young ass.

“Put that fucker in me, Dad,” he grunted over his shoulder at me, fishing around until he’d hauled it out. I pushed my briefs the rest of the way down to my knees, stroked a big pearl of precum out of the head, and rubbed the wet tip all over his spitsoaked hole.

“Like this, son?” I growled. “Toted your stud jock ass all the way over here, all lubed up, ready for Daddy to fuck you, huh baby boy?”

“Been thinking about it for days,” he moaned, his head hanging low, gripping the trunklid of the cruiser as he pushed his ass back to meet my cock. I slid my big hand up his spine, taking a firm hold of the back of his thick neck, keeping him in place as I nudged the blunt, drooling tip of my cock up more firmly against his hole. His beautiful muscles tensed all over, so I gave his big glute another smack to loosen him up, and then with a grunt and a push and a low, long moan from him, I was on my way up into him.

“Oh Jesus,” he moaned, bucking his big ass up and back on me as I sank into him, until my hips were cushioned by the thickness of that spectacular ballplayer’s ass of his. I slid my arms round him, running my hands up the big, powerful muscles of his torso, cupping his jock tits and palming his nips as my lips nuzzled that special spot just behind the edge of his jaw, below his ear, that drove him nuts. And then we got down to fucking.

The cruiser began to rock on its springs, groaning a little, the big sedan bouncing against the parking brake a little as I thrust up inside my boy. The sounds of my hips slapping against the flesh of my ass floated up in the quiet air, the rhythmic slap-slap-slap backtracked by his groans, my grunts, the stream of low, growling dirty talk between us, and then the hungry, wet smacking of our sloppy kisses. I took hold of his square jaw and turned his sweaty, adoring face back to me, admiring his handsomeness, the strong echoes of my own 20-year-old features in his as he panted, eyes locked on mine, foggy with his fatherlust. Slipped my thumb over his full lips, growling at the way he sucked on it like he had when he was a baby, before hooking his mouth open wide and spitting hard into it. He moaned at that, swallowing lustily, and when I slid my other hand down the flexing muscles of his stomach, through the growing sweaty tangle of his bush, and found the throbbing steel of his cock, he was flowing precum like a faucet, balls high and tight and big and full with his impending young load.

“You ready to cum, baby boy?” I growled hotly. “Show your Dad the cum you make for him?”

“Fuck yessssss,” he hissed. “Make me cum, Dad. Make your son shoot for you. Like you always have.”

I growled again, deeper, the animal in me clawing, biting, tearing his way out of me, as I locked my arm round his big torso, bit down his big hard shoulder through his T-shirt. Then, his cock spurting pre in my hand, I fucked my way home inside of him. Felt his big young dick throb, and clapped my other hand over his mouth as it opened wide to wail out his load, his lips pressed into the sweat of my palm as he shouted out his cum with a muffled cry. His hole clenched rhythmically around the thickness of my cock, and I heard the hard wet splats of his big young load painting the cruiser’s trunklid and bumper. I didn’t have to stroke it, just hold it, and he was jetting cum for me, his hole grasping around my dick, squeezing, milking the heavy fatherload out of my churning balls. I stifled my own moans against his shoulder, soaking the fabric of his shirt through with my spit there as I grunted and growled and came, shot after shot of the seed that had created him twenty-and-change years ago implanted inside his warm, clenching guts.

“Fuckin’ fuck!” he gasped as I held him through the postcum shivers. A little moment of tender connection, amid the sweaty, animal mating. He leaned back against me, and I peered down over his shoulder, both of us examining the thick pearly shots of jock cum dripping down the Crown Vic’s rear end. He let out the low, loping chuckle he always did in the afterglow, as I wrapped my arms around the sweaty muscles of his midsection, rubbing his thick-cut abs slowly, nuzzling the sweat on the side of his neck.

“Damn, that was some Christmas present,” he grinned, craning his head to the side to look at me. I smiled back, leaned in and pecked his lips, which turned into a slow, warm kiss. Not a long one though, because now in the afterglow, I was very aware that I was standing there with my trousers around my ankles, ass in the wind, pressed up inside of my own son in my station parking lot.

I slowly slid my softening cock from his hole, cum dripping onto the ground, and as I reached to tug my briefs up and tuck it in, his hand stopped my wrist. Looking me in the eye, he squatted down, an adoring look on his face as he opened his mouth wide and sucked me to the root, making me shiver and tingle all over as he cleaned every drop of my dadcum from my cock. I reached down and stroked my thumb down the side of his handsome young face, swiping up a slow-rolling bead of sweat, popping my thumb in my mouth to savor it as he moaned around my dick.

“You better quit it, or you’ll get me rolling again, kid,” I chuckled.

“And?” he grinned when he came up off my dick, licking his sexy lips.

“Fuck, you always were a hungry little sumbitch,” I laughed. “Maybe I should send Connors out here…”

I winked at him, not really serious, but the idea of my hunky young fellow officer tangling with my son sent a prickle through my balls.

“What if you did, Dad?” Shawn said, looking up at me with a bold confidence.

I hitched my pants up, tucked my sticky cock back inside my briefs, and squatted down to his level, taking his square jaw in my hand to look him deep in the eyes.

“Tonight, son, I’m gonna fuck you in your bed,” I said, deep and low and intent. “Like old times, yeah? Like when we started. And tomorrow, when the girls go to the sales, I’m going to fuck you in mine. Want to feel my load still in you when I do, yeah?

“Fuck yessss,” Shawn hissed, and we kissed again, hungry and hard, but quick.

He gave me a couple napkins from the Wrangler to mop the sweat from my forehead, then slung his sexy ass up in the driver’s seat and headed off, the picture of all-American jock perfection, with his Oakleys on and the roof of his Jeep down. Damn, I had to be about the luckiest man alive.

“Just in time, gotta hit the head,” Connors said in a rush, already heading down the hall to the restrooms as I came inside. I plunked my ass down in my chair, took a deep breath, and shook my head, smiling. Hard to believe how life panned out, sometimes. If I’d known when I was Shawn’s age that I’d be doing what I’d just done, well… I probably would have set to work on having a son sooner. Hell, maybe have gone for two boys, give him a brother to… Stop thinking like that, O’Brien, I warned myself, but smiled too.

I was doing some paperwork when Connors came back ten minutes later. He had a certain flush to his cheeks that I remembered well from raising a teenage boy. A little furtiveness to his eyes. The look of a healthy young dude who’d just stroked out a load. Jesus… I thought to myself, that prickle returning to my loins again as I tried not to stare too much at him.

“Sorry me and Shawn took so long, bud,” I said as he sat down at the desk next to me.

“No problem at all, sir,” Connors said, still not meeting my eyes. There was a long, fidgety pause from him. Like he wanted to say something, but was figuring out the words. I waited. I remembered that with Shawn too.

“It’s good to spend time with your son, especially now he’s older,” Connors eventually managed, blushing a little. “I wish I’d had that time with my Dad, before he passed.”

I looked over at him, remembering something he’d said about being raised by his mother, alone. Things clicking into place. Our easy bond, the reverent way he looked at me sometimes…

“Guess we might need to have the security cameras adjusted,” he said after a long, heavy pause, blushing still, looking at the overnight logs like they were the most interesting thing in the world. “All the one in the side lot shows is the hedge and the ends of the cruisers. Not a whole lot to see there. Generally.”

My stomach dropped a little, a prickle of embarrassment creeping up the back of my neck. But it was matched, then covered, with the growing heat and prickle in my loins.

He finally looked at me, the big good-looking young blond still blushing like a schoolboy, but his eyes meeting mine levelly. Not saying anything more, because nothing really needed to be said. I looked at him for a long moment, and swung around in my desk chair, facing him, my big thighs spread a little. Saw the flick of his eyes down to the fullness of my crotch.

“No good not to be with your family on Christmas, son,” I said, using that word for the first time with him, seeing the way his eyes widened ever so slightly as I did. “You really ought to come by when we get off-shift. And if you don’t have plans tomorrow…”

“I don’t, sir,” he said, smiling a little now, turning in his own chair to mirror me.

“Well, me and Shawn are going to have some guy time, kick back and relax while the girls go shopping the sales tomorrow,” I grinned. “Maybe have a few beers with us tonight, crash in the guest room… then hang with us guys tomorrow. How’s that sound… son?”

“I’d love to… sir,” he said, and I just knew that’s not the word he was looking for. But give him time. Yeah. Maybe I’d get to see that passing idea about my boy Shawn and Connors here come to life, after all. I knew my boy wouldn’t mind one bit. I knew I sure wouldn’t, and it looked like Connors was on board with it too. Seemed pulling Christmas duty had turned out to have all kinds of fringe benefits...

The End

(Copyright A4F Tales 2020)