This is the fourth and final chapter of a multipart story featuring middle aged dads and college age sons, set in a time before DVD’s, DVR’s and the internet. All depicted characters are adult men, 18 years old or older.
Dog days of summer
The dog days of August were hitting hard. Lots of families were out of town, trying to cram in that last hurrah of beach time before school started again. There wasn’t much to do here in Hardwood Acres, other than watch TV, turn all the fans up to high and, uh, beat off all day.
I wasn’t getting as many hours, and there was a week or so where I basically hung out around the house in shorts all day, cranking one out every few hours.
The whole summer seemed like I was living in bizarro world, where up was down, left was right and straight was gay.
I’d kept my interest in guys hidden, but damn if just about every dad in the neighborhood wasn’t getting cornholed. Murph, Alfie and Eric all had girlfriends and yet they were boning neighborhood dads like it was nothing. I’d even jerked off with my old man. I mean, was there something in the water?
Being gay was supposedly something that only happened in big cities. The kind of places guys in Hardwood Acres stayed away from, so they could be protected from the scary sickness, the one with all the letters.
But there was a lot happening right in our own backyards all summer. I was jacking off so much not only out of boredom, but because I kept remembering.
Remembering the taste of my dad’s load.
Remembering hot Mr. Jensen and his load. The way Mr. J looked in his suit.
Remembering the night in the FO, the scent of men fucking men and so much cum.
After I shot my load, I’d get a little frustrated and pissed.
This was a game to some of these guys, a way to get off when women weren’t around. I didn’t know what to call it, but I wanted to be with another guy like that all the time.
And I really wanted to find that first friend to take my cherry. I wanted to feel a guy’s dick inside me. I knew I had a nice beefy butt, and any time my fingers got near my butthole when I was jerking off, I’d leak so hard.
But I knew most of the guys I’d seen that summer couldn’t help me. Murph, Alfie and Eric were interested in older guys. Eric bragged about nailing bored housewives, too.
Skeet always confused me - my dick thought his furry, beefy body was hot as hell, but something about the way he acted just gave me the ick.
I realized there was one dad who hadn’t been part of any of the festivities I saw. Maybe the hottest dad of all, in my eyes.
I was going to try to seduce him. But I needed some help.
HELPING HAND
I walked to the Jensen house late one afternoon, and rang the doorbell. Mr. J answered.
“Brian Andrews. Haven’t seen you in a while. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I hesitated.
“I was hoping for your advice, Mr. J, if you have a few minutes.”
Mr. J told me to come in and follow up. We went up to his room, the same one he’d found me in when I was checking out all his suits.
“I had a lot of fun when you were here, Brian.”
“I did too, sir. I’d like to do that again sometimes…..especially if you have a whole suit and those fancy leather shoes on. But right now I really need some advice. Because….I think I am…..like you said, like you.”
“Like me,” he repeated.
“You know. The catcher.”
“Oh, right. Yeah.”
“And…” I was really shy and nervous to ask. “I’m hoping to find a guy soon who will take my cherry. But…I want to be sure I’m prepared, and I look okay. And you always look amazing.”
Mr. J smiled big time. He soaked in the compliment.
“So I, uh….went to Phar-Mor and got, you know, the cleaning stuff…..for my butt….”
“You bought an enema, Brian?”
“Yeah, that thing. And I used it.”
“Okay then. What advice do you need?”
“Well, I’m not a well dressed guy. How should I look if I go on a date? I don’t even know what to do with cologne.”
Mr. J surprised me by tenderly stroking my cheek and gently kissing me there.
“Brian. You’re a big, strapping, ridiculously handsome young man. Don’t try to change yourself or be anything other than yourself for anyone else. Just take a shower before your date and you’ll be set.”
He walked to a drawer in his closet and reached inside, handing me two little containers smaller than my pinky.
“These are cologne samples. Don’t go overboard with them, Brian, too many young guys do. Your date wants to breathe in your scent, not a cloud of cologne. Just put a little bit on the tip of your finger and dab on your neck.”
I hugged Mr. J, and my nose mashed into his neck, picking up the heady mix of Mr. J’s own sweat and cologne.
“I hope you’re successful with your goal, Brian,” he called as I walked down the steps. “Daniel Murphy would be a very lucky man to be with a young buck like you.”
I stopped and looked back at Mr. J, who had a big grin on his face. Of course, he was one step ahead of me, as always.
JUST YOU AND ME, COACH
I made my way to the Murphy house on a Friday night, as spiffy as I could be. It was still humid, so by the time I made it to the front door, sweat was trickling down every curve and gully on my body.
Mr. Murphy - Daniel Murphy, also known as Coach - answered the door.
Fuck, he was ridiculously handsome. He coached softball and I almost never got to see him without his uniform - those polyester shorts holding his bulge, his cap, that whistle dangling around his neck.
Here at home, it was just Coach Murphy, in a thin white t-shirt and some gym shorts. And, apprently, no underwear.
“C’mon in, Brian. Have a seat. You just missed the boys.”
“I didn’t come here to see them, Mr. M.”
He looked down at me with a smile on his face. I tried not to look directly at him, but I did anyway, and got lost in his deep blue eyes.
Any chance of hiding my bone flew out the window, because I was rock hard now.
“So, Elliot Jensen and I had a really interesting conversation the other day, Brian.”
“About what, sir?”
Coach sat down next to me on the couch.
“He has some insane idea that you’re into an old man like me. I told him he must be crazy.”
I leaned forward and cupped Coach’s face in my hands, planting a kiss on him.
“Not so crazy, Coach, not at all. You’re fucking gorgeous, man. Do you have any idea?”
Coach’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask first, but I want to kiss you again, sir.” I was almost begging at this point. “And I’d really like to touch you.”
“We can do that, Brian, but you gotta call me something other than Mr. Murphy or Coach. Dan works just fine.”
“Okay, Dan.” That sounded weird to me, he was still Coach in my head.
I leaned forward again as Coach put his hands on my face and kissed me. Really deep. I wasn’t used to how he was doing it, but just followed his lead. His tongue was in my mouth and then swirling around my tongue and man, I thought I might bust just from that alone.
He smelled and tasted so, so good.
I reached for Coach’s t-shirt and started to peel it off. Coach seemed a little self conscious about being shirtless.
“You know how many times I fantasized about doing this?”
Coach sighed. “Brian, I’m so out of shape.”
“No, Coach….er, Dan…..you’re hot as fuck. All this beef on top of muscle….and fuck, you’re so hairy everywhere.
I slid off the couch, kneeling on the floor below Coach, rubbing my face all over his hairy chest and belly. Damn, he was so fucking hot. He tasted like sweat in the best way.
I kissed my way up to Coach’s barrel chest and spent a long time working my tongue over his nipples.
I had no idea what I was doing at ALL. I just kinda went on instinct. I kept kissing my way up to Coach’s neck and was back on the couch.
Coach grabbed my hand and put it on his bulge. Damn, he was thick.
“You wanna make me happy, Brian? Time to get back down there. Pull down these shorts.”
I grabbed those small gym shorts. As soon as I pulled them down, his fat dick bobbed up. He was commando, alright. I looked up at Coach.
“Blow me, buddy. Get a taste.”
I’d only done it a few times before, including Mr. J, but Coach had a good inch more in both length and thickness compared to Mr. J.
I could feel Coach’s hands resting on my head as I took most of Coach’s meat in my mouth. Fuck, it was so hot seeing him swollen and veiny, precum leaking out of his knob. I tongued his piss slit, which made him moan real loud.
I kept sucking and licking Coach, coming up for air every once in a while, diving down into his insanely hairy bush to lap on his big nuts.
After a few rounds of that, Coach pulled my mouth from his dick and leaned forward to kiss me.
“Tell me what you want, Brian. Tell me what you told Elliot Jensen.”
I was shaking, a little scared, but I wasn’t about to let a few jitters distract me.
“Dan….please, you’re so hot. I want you to fuck me. I NEED you to fuck me.”
Coach reached down to me, and I took his hand, as he walked us down the hall to his bedroom. A man, a hot man, taking me to his bedroom. Fuck, that was the sexiest thing I’d ever thought about - and it HAPPENED.
Coach kissed me as he pulled down my shorts and briefs. My leaking dick sprung up. Coach wrapped his hand around it, his own shank up against my thigh.
“Damn, Brian, your dick’s just like you. Nice and solid and thick.”
Coach told me to get on the bed, and I did, scooting up to put my head on the pillows. Coach crawled on and kissed me some more. I just wanted to run my hands through Coach’s hair and kiss him all afternoon.
I was surprised when Coach started kissing down over my chest and belly, his hands running over me.
“So meaty, Brian. Such a big, beefy boy.”
I saw a smile on Coach’s face right before his mouth opened wide, taking my cock inside.
FUCK! Please don’t let me nut yet. So fucking hot.
Coach was taking me like a champ, his head bobbing up and down like a pro.
Nothing surprises me in Hardwood Acres, I thought briefly, before focusing on Coach.
I could feel his hands spread my legs open a little wider, and then it happened - Coach’s tongue went a little lower.
Coach was tasting my ass.
“Holy fuck, Dan! So good!”
Coach’s tongue felt like it was in me for hours, I heard the squirt of a lotion bottle, and felt Coach’s finger pushing inside me.
“Oh….OH!”
“You okay, son?”
My dick jumped, hard, hearing Coach say ‘son’ and he noticed.
“Yeah, just….feel a little pressure?”
Coach started to ease in a second finger and I though I’d go crazy. It was such a weird sensation, but exciting and amazing too.
After working his fingers inside me, he gently pulled them out.
“Brian, can you get on all fours for me? It might be easier for you if you do that.”
I shook my head no.
“Can I….I really want to be looking at you when it happens. Please?”
He leaned over to kiss me.
“Whatever you want, son.”
My dick twitched again.
Coach had me scoot down to the edge of the bed. I spread my legs as far as they would go and Coach grabbed me under my knees as his dick started pushing inside of me.
“Fuck, son.”
“Fuck me, dad.”
Oh, shit. I meant to say Dan. But Coach didn’t mind. Not at all.
“Say it again, son.”
“I need it, dad. Fuck me, dad. Fuck me with your big dad dick. Please, dad.”
Fuck, this hot, hairy dad, the guy I’d lusted after for so long, was inside me.
Coach was trying to be gentle since it was my first time.
“You can go faster, dad.”
“Yeah?”
“Harder, dad. Fuck me.”
“Yeah? You like this fat dad dick in your cunt, son?”
I started fucking myself on Coach’s dick, working my hole on him. He moaned and kept a steady pace.
“Yeah, dad. Fuck my cunt. I love how you feel inside of me. Need it, dad.”
Coach’s eyes were twinkling, but the look on his face was sheer feral lust. He was slamming inside of me now, and I moaned with every thrust of his bone inside me.
I could feel Coach’s dick twitch, and knew he was getting closer and closer.
“Gonna cum inside you Brian. Gonna flood that cunt.”
“Do it, Dad. Cum inside me. I need it, Dad. Need you to flood me.”
Coach roared as his load fired inside me, too many spurts for me to count. He kept rocking back and forth, though.
“Touch yourself for me, son,” he demanded. “Touch your dick.”
I stroked myself. My dick swelled up and got really leaky. Coach was still hard inside me, and kept thrusting in my flooded hole.
“You gonna cum for dad? With a cunt full of my cum?”
I fucking lost it, shooting into the air, cum splashing back down hard on my own face, all over Coach’s bedsheets.
Coach gently pulled out and crawled onto the bed beside me, cuddling me close.
“Was it what you’d thought it might be, son?”
“Even better…..dad.”
“You need a second dad, Brian?”
“I’d really like one, sir.”
Coach held me tight, and we fell asleep like that.
A NEW SEASON
A few weeks later, Dad - my first and original one - dropped me off at Maple Tree University. I was officially a college man. It was a decent state school, and since Dad did some work for them over the years, they gave him a break on my tuition.
Dad and I still hadn’t talked much about the day I walked in on him - the day I blew him - and it didn’t seem likely he would any time soon.
After we’d moved everything in, Dad did give me a hug before taking off. And slipped me a twenty, too.
“Call if you need anything, Brian. But try not to need anything for a while, okay?”
Dad waved from his truck as he drove away.
I was putting my room together, hoping my roommate didn’t care which side of the room I picked, when I heard a knock on the door.
It was Coach Murphy. He had on a tight polo shirt, and his hot, tight coach shorts had a visible bulge.
“You gonna let me come in, son?”
I closed the door behind him and Coach kissed me, deep as always.
“Any homework yet, Brian?”
“I’m sure I’ll have to write an essay about my summer. But I don’t know if I can write one with all the details!”
Coach pulled me closer.
“I’m glad you’re not far away, Brian. I might have to come visit you on Parent’s Day…and Homecoming, and…..”
I leaned forward to kiss him, and taste his swirling tongue again.
“Wanna test out your bedsprings, son?” Coach whispered in my ear. “Dad wants inside that beefy ass again.”
“Fuck yeah, dad.”
It might have been a weird summer, but it was going to be a GREAT fucking fall.
