I looked out the back window, as I was helping Bob wash the dishes, and only saw Wade and Rick by the pool.

Where is Reece?

I knew something was up.

I know Reed likes cock, like me, like all the men here today, except maybe for Dave, but that may change.

I was not sure, when he would tell his father. I figured the time would come when he was ready; I hope it is soon.

I excused myself, told Bob I had to take a piss; I then went looking to see where Reece was.

I had sent Paul and Reed out to our work truck; it was obvious to me that Reed was hungering for Paul's man-meat.

He whispered to Paul he wanted him but Reece and I both heard him.

I started walking around the house to see if maybe Reece was "playing" in the house after Bob strictly forbade anyone to do anything since Reed had expressed to him that it made him uncomfortable to see man-to-man sex.

Which is not true, it is far from the truth.

It was not discomfort on Reed's part but an intense every present desire and longing for male flesh that he was barely able to control, if he was sexually attracted to a man.

He wanted that man and his cock, right then and there.

I know this without speculating, because I had fucked Reed, quite a few times, and his attraction to me has been long-standing since his youth, he told me so.

Was Reece jacking off in some back room of the house?

I looked out the front window and saw Paul pounding Reed's ass into a fury. The kid had some power in those muscular thighs, when we double fucked Russ; I had to match him with intensity. He knows how to use his cock, which is why I guess Reed wanted it so bad today.

Why were they on this side of the truck and not the other, in the shadows?

Did they want to be caught by Bob?

Why were they not in the shadows, hiding from view as they fucked?

It was during this time that Bob walked up and stood by me.

"I was wondering where you took off to," Bob said.

He then looks out the window and sees what I am have been staring at and what has me so enthralled.

First, he is silent but finally speaks.

He is amazingly calm.

"What is that?" Bob says, his mouth eschewed, somewhat shocked.

He continues observing and then looks to me.

"Did you know about this?" he says to me, "My son is a fucking bottom."

"Yes, I knew, have known," I answer.

"You have?" he says.

"Yes, Reed came to me when he was eighteen and told me he liked cock," I say, matter-a-factly, I do not want to sound like I was happy he chose me.

"He came to you?" he says.

"Yes," I say," I do not know why he chose me and not you. (I do though.) You would have to ask him. Are you okay with it?"

"I am fine with it," he says, "I guess like most guys he did not want to talk to his father about fucking, sex or whatever."

If this is what he wants to believe, I will let him believe it but it was much more than just to talk.

"I guess not," I say, I do not tell him I fucked him that first time too, "I feel bad watching them, you think we ought to let them have this moment."

"Your right," he says, "you see Reece watching them next to my truck."

I look out the window and sees Reece in the shadows, hiding, being voyeuristic.

There he is, and not where I expected him to be either.

"Well, they are three young bucks with hormones and testosterone in overdrive and when you have a cock that gets hard when the wind blows, it has to be satisfied" I say, "let them three have this moment."

I pull the curtains close.

Did Reed see us watching?

"We best get back outside, we do not want them to know what we have seen, "I say.

We walk through the house and hear a loud splash in the pool.

It is Reece, I assume.

He is the one that was unaccounted for earlier until Bob caught being a peeping Tom at Paul and Reed.

Has Reed and Paul finished, too?

Why else would he leave?

We cross the threshold of the sliding doors onto the patio.

Walk onto the soft grass of the backyard, we act as if we know nothing.

Reece is in the pool swimming, it was he.

"Laugh, Bob," I say, softly.

We both laugh.

"Okay," he agrees, "Why did we do laugh?"

"To keep up appearances," I say.

We both walk in a jovial mood, a fake jovial mood.

Bob has to respect his son's privacy.

Reed will tell him when he is ready and that he is a devourer of cock like his old man.

He just has to be patient.

Paul comes running out from the shrubs and dives into the pool.

"You see Paul?" Bob tells me, in a quiet voice.

"Yep," I say," just act casual."

Paul runs and jumps into the pool and surfaces near Reece.

Does Paul know that Reece was watching as he fucked Reed?

I doubt it as Paul and Reed were into some intense fucking and centered on each other.

Reed had his arms wrapped around Paul's head, pulling him back, as he pounded his ass. Reed's head was thrown back, his body arched in such way, welcoming the massive cock of Paul's, my co-worker; they were caught up in the passion of their sex. It was a beautiful sight, Reed experiencing the thrills of being a man and the joys of man-to-man sex. I did not watch for long, as Bob showed and I was not invited to this private intimate session, this was a moment between them two of them, which Reece involved himself as a voyeur.

Bob and I walk to the pools edge and jump in; we take a more subtle approach to our entrance.

I know Reed will emerge from somewhere and claim to have been elsewhere.

However, the when and how soon is not known but he has to appear though and not too late either.

I know Bob will abide by his son's wishes and play along, as will I, and everyone else.

I just hope Wade and Dave play along with this unfolding scenario.

Reed does appear with a story of being his room; he enters back into the group with a 'cannonball' into the pool.

A dramatic entrance because he knows all eyes is upon him.

The kid is quite handsome and blessed in his manhood.

I know Bob takes pride in his son because he has raised him to be a responsible man and to be proud for being a man.

It shows.

We all swim for a while, horseplay, no sex, although many are sporting a hard-on, which is natural whether from the rigorous activity or from the sexual attraction that is obvious between many here.

"Dad, I have to be going," Reed says.

"Are you sure?" Bob says, "You could stay the night."

"Naw, I prefer to sleep in my own bed," Reed says, "I may go out later with friends once I get back into town, I am not sure yet."

"Oh okay, but you know you can stay," Bob says.

"Yeah, I know but you already have a full house," Reed says.

"Well, you could sleep with me," I say," I can make room."

"Funny, Nate," Reed says," but no thanks."

I get a leering stare from Reed.

Bob looks over at me, as if to say with his eyes, why did you say that.

Reed swims to the shallow end of the pool, walks up the steps, and stands on the cement surrounding the pool.

It is dark now and the pool and security lights illuminate the area.

All eyes are upon Reed.

His muscled back, his muscled thighs, his well-defined muscular bubble-butt. The man is muscular and blessed. He went from a skinny kid to the man standing before us now, he grabs people attention because he is so alluring and captivating, he could have been a model.

The water dances and sparkles off his fine blonde hair, in the soft light, that covers his body. His back is still toward us as we are all in the pool. He bends over, slowly; his ass naturally spreads from this movement.

As he does, his balls drop and are visible from the crack of his ass. They are full orbs of man-juice, hairy, like the rest of him; he does not shave them. He chooses to remain a natural unspoiled unshaven man.

His fur-covered ass spreads further as he bends, even more; this is where Paul had his cock less than an hour ago.

"Damn," I shout out.

I could not contain myself.

His ass is beautiful.

I say what I know the others are thinking, I know this, I am certain.

Bob does not reprimand me.

It would spoil the fun that Reed is having; teasing, tempting us like his father also does, so I am sure he understands.

Reed is enjoying the game he is playing with us because he knows that they will not sample his wares tonight.

Reed straightens up, turns, he is sporting an almost erect cock, this is a planned maneuver by him. He runs his hand through the hair on his chest, tweaks his nipples which grow harder from his touch in the Florida night air, his runs his hands down his torso, across his rippled abs, through his thick hairy happy trail that leads to his cock and pubes.

He fondles his cock, gently, untangling it from the wet hairs where it is nesting.

This is why he waited to turn, he wanted his cock to be hardening, showing his strength.

He cock begins to swell; it has been provoked by his hand and is responding accordingly to the stimulation.

"I am gonna take a shower, dad," Reed says.

"Okay, there should be soap and shampoo over there," Bob says.

Does Bob know what his son is doing?

Reed walks to the outdoor shower by 'the shed.'

"I'll get you towel," Bob says.

Bob does not acknowledge what he has just witnessed by his son. He knows when a man is playing the seduction game, he has done similar himself in the past.

"Okay, thanks, dad," Reed says.

Reed turns to all of us in the pool, smiles, and bounds off to the shower, which is in full view of pool.

The guy's mouths are all agape, all of them, even the straight man, Dave.

Reed has accomplished his goal. He wants us to swoon over him, lust after him.

I believe he has accomplished that perfectly with that little display.

Bob brings Reed the towel and puts it on one of the lounge chairs, which circle the pool.

"I'll be back in a bit," Bob says.

"Oh okay, "I say.

Bob heads back into the house for whatever reason. I figure he knows it is best that he not witness the continuing 'show' by his son.

My gaze never leaves Reed's ass as he tramples across the grass to the outdoor shower.

Reed turns on the hot and cold water, adjusting the temperature and steps under the steady streaming water. He soaks himself with the lukewarm running water, washing off the chlorine and chemicals from the pool.

We all continue to gaze at him, our focus solely on him.

He opens the shampoo, pours some into his right hand, and applies it upon his head. He lathers it, massaging his scalp with the bubbles it creates, refreshing himself.

He applies more shampoo to his chest, lathering it into a bubbled soapy mass. He lets the soap from the shampoo travel down his body, down the happy trail to his pubes.

His body, covered in shampoo, from the hair on his head to the furry patch of pubes, he begins to stroke his cock in the nest of fur there.

His cock is hardening more.

He slowly lets his hand travel up and down the length of his nine-inch cock.

Stroking it.

He stops, suddenly, under the streaming water and rinses all the shampoo away.

His massive cock shines out from the wet pubes as the lather disappears.

He stands for a moment, making sure we see his maleness in all its glory.

His cock, swelled to it maximum and pointing upward from his thighs in full spectacular arousal.

He turns away from us, his back, again, to us.

He grabs the soap from the basin that also is home to the shampoo.

With his back to us, he works the soap into lather, as he did the shampoo.

He bends at his waist.

The hair that covers his ass is exposed as he spreads his ass cheeks, with his hands, showing us his hair lined puckered hole. He takes his hands away and his ass cheeks, they close, hiding his hole. He brings the bar of lathered soap to his ass and runs it across his puckered hole. He lingers in his ass crack, running his fingers up and down, back and forth, through it.

He knows we can see this and he continues his tempting.

He inserts a finger.

Then another.

Then another, there are three fingers in his ass, he moves them in and out.

Moans escape his lips.

"Oh, oh," he says softly.

We are all gathered in the shallow end of the pool, watching, observing, slobbering in lust.

Paul. Reece. Wade. Dave and myself.

Bob is in the house, not a party to this tantalizing tease-fest from his son.

A father should not see their offspring, as an object of unbridled lust by a group of men.

Lust initiated by offspring for their own gratification.

Reed continues to finger fuck his hole with his lathered hand.

He removes his fingers and turns around.

His cock is still protruding obscenely from his furred pubes in all its full hardness.

His mushroom cut head, swelled by the blood being pumped into it, glistens from the stretched skin covering his member.

He does not touch his cock; although it bounces as moves, the muscles pulling it upward, as he wiggles and gyrates, removing the soap from his thickly furred ass.

He smiles at us, his audience of five, his captivated group of men.

Entrapped by the attributes of this twenty-something year old man as he showers, a spectacle for his admirers.

Our cocks are as steely hard as his but we dare not touch them, as they would surely explode.

I move toward the steps, in the shallow end, I want to help Reed relieve his self-induced sexual frenzy.

He sees me walking up the steps, with his right hand, he waves a finger, gesturing a 'no-no' to me.

I am to stay away.

I am stopped, halted in my pursuit for this man's tender flesh tunnel.

I fall back into the water, dazed, hard and longing for Reed's ass to be wrapped around my engorged cock.

I glance at Paul, he is being held in attention.

The evidence is visible.

His cock is massive and hard, from his lover's teases, as are the rest of us.

Damned be to Paul, as he has had Reed's sweet ass today while I am to be denied it sweet tight confines to savor and taste and fill with my seed.

Reed, once again, grabs the soap from the basin, turns it around and around in his hands, creating a bubbly lather.

This lather, he applies to his monsterly swelled sexual appendage and begins to stroke himself into fervor.

His cock-head, peaks out from the white soapy bubbles, purplish in hue, from the blood pooling in it.

He stokes ever slowly, traveling from the top to the pubes, up and down, up and down.

He moans.

He moans more.

His body begins to shake.

To quiver.

He releases his seed.

The cum shoots from his cock in an arch reaching several feet in front of him, first one spurt, then another, the muscle propelled cum touching the grass and soaking in.

As his essence empties from his nut-sacks, he continues to quake and shiver where he stands.

His cum sprays the soft luscious green grass in front of him.

Doing that which some preach is wrong.

The white man-batter offering of his masculinity is received back from which it originated.

Dust to dust, cum to the green, his seed another fertilizer to join in to the mix.

Giving back to the earth, that which was given to him the day he was born, masculinity.

His moaning ceases, his body, he regains control.

He washes the soap from his body and all signs of the show, vanishes, as if it never happened.

He turns the water off and faces us, as we stand in the pool.


We do not say anything.

He steps from the concrete foundation that supports the shed and walks to the table, on which the towel lays upon, that his father brought for him, and begins to dry himself off.

He smiles.

He smirks.

We, as a group, say nothing, still, we just stare in amazement, as we were just teased and subdued and manipulated by a master.

Reed knows it.

He knows it.

Reed calls out for his father.

"Hey dad," Reed says, "I am heading out."

His words shock us bake to reality.

We start swimming again.

Reed has had his fun with us.

Bob walks from the house carrying something.

"Son, I got you some fresh shorts, a tee and your Greek sandals from the room," Bob says.

"Thanks dad," Reed says, and then he hugs his dad.

Both naked, not ashamed of their embrace as men of equal standing and as father and son, which they should not be as men in the world.

"What was that for, son," Bob says.

"For having such great friends," Reed says.

Reed smiles at us like a devilish child.

"Oh," Bob says.

Reed turns.

Waves at us.

"Thanks guys, "Reed says, "The shower was so invigorating and stimulating."

He pulls up his shorts, pulls the tee over his head and steps into his sandals.

He disappears into the house, with no glances back at the stirring he has caused by his performance.



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