The Quarterback

Conrad tiptoed down the hall of Oliver’s second floor, listening very closely to the commotion that was happening downstairs. From the sounds of it, Oliver’s parents had gotten home and in addition to unloading groceries, were starting dinner. It was too late for Conrad to go get the clothes he left by the couch without not being seen. He very regretfully shut his eyes, wishing he had picked them up when he and Oliver had gone upstairs in the first place. He half-crouched behind the corner to where the bottom of the stairs turned into the kitchen, but right in front of the living room. It was a matter of being sneaky— if he could make it to the couch and back unnoticed, he wouldn’t have to have an awkward encounter with his boyfriend’s parents.

After taking a deep breath he started forward, his ears sharp for any sound of recognition. In no time he was at the couch, where he took up his phone in his right hand and his shorts in his left. In a hurry, he lost grip of his clothes and dropped them, only realizing until half way tot he stairs he had done it. Very slyly, he turned his head to look into the kitchen. Oliver’s mother and father stood still, stopped in their preparations, and stared at Conrad. The young man froze up, then looked down at his body, which was bare naked. With her hand over her mouth, Oliver’s mother hurried into the next room. Conrad turned to start back up to Oliver’s room when—

“Stop right there, young man.”

Conrad stopped in his tracks, feeling the heat sweeping into his face. He looked at Oliver’s dad, who was waving his pointer finger towards him in a motion to come. Very cautiously, Conrad set his phone down, and walked forward, covering his junk with his hands. He stopped a few feet away from Oliver’s dad, who approached him.

“What’s your name, son?”

Conrad gulped, but chuckled a little bit, trying to recover his manners from his embracing situation. “Conrad, sir.”

“You’re the boy Ollie’s been,” he gave Conrad a slow one over, “seeing?”

Conrad nodded. “Yes sir,” he said.

Oliver’s dad reached out his hand, and raised his lifted his chin slightly, putting on an intimidating face. Conrad sighed heavily and pulled one of his hands away from his privates and took the older man’s hand, firmly shaking it. Afterwards, he returned his hand to covering himself. Conrad’s father stood still for a second, thinking of what to say next, until there was a small cough in the other room.

Oliver’s father sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Okay, front center, kiddo. I’m gonna need a word with you.”

At these words, Oliver’s mom walked through appeared through the living room and started up the stairs. Conrad shifted uncomfortably, but moved a few paces closer to his boyfriend’s dad.

“Obviously you and my boy are exploring yourselves. . . and each other, right now. I remember being your age and wanting to touch other boys too. . .” He cleared his throat. “I need to know what kind of person my son is having relations with. First thing I’m going to have you do is uncover yourself, Conrad.”

Quietly, Conrad removed his hands, making his private parts public parts.

“Give me a turn, son.”

Conrad shut his eyes tightly, and slowly turned for his audience.

“Okay now, I’m going to ask you a few questions.”

Conrad nodded.

“Boys your age are still discovering themselves. Are you just experimenting with my son, or are you two serious?”

“We’re serious about each other sir.”

This was humiliating for Conrad. He had only just come to terms for his sexuality and had just come out at school and was being interrogated by his boyfriend’s dad, completely naked. Every single bit of him wanted to cover himself up, but he couldn’t because of what he’d been ordered.

“What sort of things have you done together?”

“Sir?” Oliver’s dad nodded, which prompted Conrad to start in. “We’ve kissed each other, and that’s all.”

“Is that why you’re not wearing any clothes? I’d like the truth.”

Conrad sighed, and swallowed. “We’ve um, we’ve given each other hand jobs, and sucked each other off before, and sometimes we eat each other’s ass, and we’ve had sex.”

“Do you use protection?”

In his head, Conrad cursed. They weren’t the safest, but neither of them was too loose about their sexual history. There was the one time Conrad had sex with that man in the coffeeshop bathroom, but he’d been tested safe after that.

“Yes,” he lied.

“Have you slept with any other young men?”

“Not young, but there was this one man at a coffee house, and this other man, too—“

“Did you cheat on my son?”

“No, not technically, we were on a break.”

Oliver’s dad gruffly sighed. “In what amount of time were these two men?”

Conrad cleared his throat. “At the same time.”

Oliver’s father looked down at Conrad, obviously adjusting to this information. “How often?”

“Sir—“ Conrad started.

“Ned,” Oliver’s dad corrected.

“Ned,” the name rolled off of Conrad’s tongue uncomfortably. “Per week?”

Ned nodded. Conrad gulped and thought back on the past week, and the week before that. He tried to average out how many times they’d fucked, how many times Oliver had sucked him off. How many times they’d eaten each other’s ass or just plain old rubbed each other off. The images in his head were distracting to his counting, and slowly but surely the situation got more uncomfortable. Conrad’s member was inflating with a rather slow speed. He was about at half mast when Ned’s eyes shot a quick glance at Conrad’s dick.

“Y’know, we’re both guys. My wife won’t be down until I’ve finished talking with you. If you want to handle that,” he nodded down to Conrad’s crotch. “You can.”

Conrad pushed his weight to his other leg and stood uncomfortably. Blood was rushing to his face and his member, and he was feeling relatively faint. “Per week, probably three or four times.”

Ned reached down and started rubbing the front of his jeans. “Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal. I’m getting a bit turned on myself. This is interesting.”

Conrad took a cautious step back. “Sir—“

“Ned,” he repeated. He unzipped his jeans and puled them down a few inches. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

The quarterback almost fell over. “Ned, isn’t this kind of fucked up?”

Oliver’s dad pulled the skin of his cock back and forth, his eyes closed. “Describe what it’s like.”

“This is fucked, I have to go,” Conrad stammered. He turned around and started walking towards the stairs.

“Hold it right there, Conrad,” he demanded.

Conrad glanced at Ned, who had his jeans completely off now, and his flannel was open exposing a hairy chest. “It was nice to meet you,” he beamed, and started walking toward Conrad with his arms open.

Conrad stepped backwards slightly, before being encased in Oliver’s dad’s body. Everything became overwhelming for Conrad suddenly, and he became fully hard. Ned’s cock was aimed upward, being pressed between the two as they embraced. Conrad’s own prick angled slightly down, between Ned’s long legs. He could feel the side of the married man’s balls, and all of it was hot. Literally. The heat coming off Ned’s privates was extremely warm on Conrad’s skin. The side of Conrad’s face pressed against the man’s chest, gently tickling his jaw. Lastly, he could feel Ned’s nipple on his neck. It was so much warm man, and it was all so wrong. Conrad stood uncomfortably.

“ I think you’re a nice kid, and I think my son picked a good one,” he said, still holding Conrad.

“Thanks, Ned,” Conrad peeped.

“You’re a good kid,” Ned let out. He reached down and patted Conrad’s butt, then left his hand there. “And just so Oliver doesn’t have to hear about your. . . arousal,” he could feel a single pulse pump through Ned’s penis, “One more favor?”

Conrad’s skin turned cold with goose-bumps, and he gulped against his hugger’s chest. Was he being blackmailed? “Yes, sir?”

“Could you just stay down here until I work this guy off? I don’t want my wife asking any questions. Really, you could do yours too, feels like you need it, champ,” he chuckled, and he softly rubbed Conrad’s ass, making Conrad even harder than he already was.

“I’ll let you do your stuff, Ned, but I’m gonna save this guy for your kid.” Conrad tried his best to pull away without seeming obvious, but Ned kept him there.

“Sounds like a deal,” Ned said, rubbing Conrad’s butt some more.

Conrad waited patiently and uncomfortably, and when it seemed like Ned was getting too into it he breathed, “Do you want to sit down, or stand? Do you want me to sit next to you?”

“Right, let’s get started,” he announced rather loudly, and gave Conrad a hard slap on the ass. Conrad’s face winged in pain, but he bit his lip for a second to try to wear away the pleasure-pain of the action.

Ned quickly pulled away, standing a foot or so away from Conrad. A small strand of pre-cum connected between the bottom of Conrad’s stomach and the slit of Ned’s member. He looked around the room, and motioned for Conrad to sit on the floor in front of the couch. Conrad sat down, grabbing his shorts on the way, and began to slip them on.

“No, no. Leave those off.”

Conrad froze and retracted his shorts from his body. Ned took a seat on the couch, his massive meat stick, maybe ten inches in length, towering about his balls. His legs were spread, showing off his hairy thighs his asshole clear as crystal. He waved his hand upward, making the implication he wanted Conrad standing. And poor Conrad obeyed with manners too strong to rebel. He crossed his arms and looked down at Ned, who was looking up at the quarterback with glazed eyes. He bit his lower lip briefly, and then mouthed something. Conrad leaned down to maybe hear the muteness, and read carefully.

Show me your ass.

Conrad sighed, and turned around placing his hands on his butt. He stood quietly, his palms grazing the little bit of fur on his behind, and he gently spread apart his cheeks, showing his hole. Suddenly, there was a cold feeling right below his asshole. He almost jumped forward, but stopped himself. Instead he turned around and stared into Ned’s face. He was grinning, and then he whispered something that made Conrad turn red:

“Is that Ollie’s cum?”

Conrad nodded, biting his lip regretfully. Ned waved him forward and twirled his finger. The younger man had no choice but to comply, and spun so that his back was facing the older, taller man. Again, Ned’s placed his cold fingers on Conrad’s butt cheek, and he squeezed slightly. There was the sound of leather moving, and Conrad felt a warm kiss on his ass. He looked forward with a steely face. How was this happening? His eight-incher was throbbing at probably an enhanced eight and a half inches now, and he was aching to touch it.

Ned reached forward and pulled Conrad but he waist down onto his knee, so Conrad was almost straddling it. Conrad was glaring now, and his angry gaze was directly at Ned, who nodded down his body to the piece of meat that he was fondling. Conrad rolled his eyes and wrapped his fingers around the shaft of his boyfriend’s dad’s cock. Ned’s jaw dropped and his eyes rolled back into his head at Conrad’s touch, and he sighed deeply. His jaw closed to a bite over his lower lip and he looked directly into Conrad’s eyes. He nodded.

Go.

Conrad stroked as quickly as he could, determined to get it over with. He sat concentrated, pumping his hand up and down the meat-hose, and stayed in place until Ned reached his hand forward. Conrad stopped and scooted a small bit back, to no effect. The dad gripped Conrad’s man meat and started jerking it slowly. Conrad’s hand wasn’t pumping anymore, and he sat quietly, his eyes shut and lips pursed, as Oliver’s father stroked slower and slower. The slower he stroked, the closer Conrad got to cumming. It wasn’t until Ned started rubbing his hand up to Conrad’s nipple and down and around to his butt that Conrad exploded.

“Woah!” Ned exclaimed.

Conrad couldn’t stop like usual, and the sight of it tipped Ned over the edge as well. Strand after strand came out of the quarterback, until he was only dripping onto Ned’s hip. Ned had Conrad’s ejaculation all over his hand and his hairy abs. As a last ditch effort, Conrad pulled up his shorts into his mouth and silenced himself. Ned, bursting one rope after the other onto Conrad’s hand, grabbed Conrad’s underwear and did the same. Eventually Conrad collapsed onto Ned, dropping his shorts out of his mouth onto the flannel on ned’s shoulder. Ned did the same with his gag, and it slid down Conrad’s heaving back not the floor. In a fit of guilt and astonishment, Conrad swayed  back quickly and pushed off of Ned’s leg. Ned was still grinning, and he lifted his cum-covered hand to his mouth. Conrad watched in horror as he lapped every drop off his hand and into his mouth. Conrad looked at his own hand, similarly coated with semen.

“Do it,” Ned demanded, “Or I tell.”

Conrad was frozen, and under his eyes heated with emotion. What a nasty trick. He lifted his hand to his mouth, and pushed his fingers into his mouth. He ingested the salty liquid quickly, leaned forward and grabbed his shorts off ned’s shoulder. Misreading the situation, Ned put his hands on Conrad’s waist, and then frowned when Conrad immediately pulled away. Angry, he stood up and shook his head. Conrad scowled equally disappointedly, and leaned down to pick up his underwear. He felt Ned’s strong fingers on his butt, which moved in a circular motion, and then spanked him slightly. Conrad immediately stood up and began towards the stairs, grabbing his phone on the way.

When he got to the door to Oliver’s room he listened. It sounded like Oliver’s mom was in there with him. Quietly, Conrad pulled his underwear and shorts up his legs. Then he entered the room to a smiling mother and boyfriend. Conrad watched mama Ollie carefully. Had she known what papa Ollie had done? He returned the kindness with a half-hearted smile and picked a drop armhole tank top off the ground, slipping it on.

“We’re finished,” Conrad informed. He didn’t know what to say the finished? Talking? Getting each other off?

“Okay, then,” Oliver’s mom got up from the bed she was laying on with Oliver and left.

The two looked at each other in silence.

“Oliver, I just had to most awkward time with your dad. I want to tell you before he says something.”

“No, don’t even sweat it I just got the talk from my mom. Don’t worry she liked you I convinced her you were nice. She said she saw you naked though?”

“Yeah, about that—“ Conrad paused, unable to think of his next sentence. He wanted to throw up, and it must’ve been pretty evident.

“What?”

“Your dad. He and I just. . .” Conrad bit his lip and looked down at his feet.

Oliver froze up, “Just what? He didn’t threaten you, did he? He’s protective but he’s not ever violent. What did he say?”

“He blackmailed me. He made me answer these really personal questions about us and I got kind of hot thinking about it, and he said. . .” Conrad trailed off.

“Finish. What did he say?”

“He said if I wanted I could jerk myself off that it was okay.”

“Oh thank god, he didn’t threaten you violently?”

“No, but—“

Oliver sat quietly, and listened to what Conrad said next in shock and disbelief. Conrad left that afternoon with tears in his eyes. He and Oliver were no more.

(Come back soon for the next part?)