Written with Corporal Cody
Baltimore, December 2007
Sometimes change is good, I thought, as I leaned back against the wall of a sports bar that was starting to fill in. I was standing with a bunch of senior Navy officers, a few new and a few familiar as they chatted amongst themselves, their voices matching the growing noise in the bar. Dad appeared from the forming crowd with two fresh beer bottles in hand. His normally stoic demeanor was more happy and buzzed as he smirked at me, avoiding the bodies as he was forced to shimmy past them. He was dressed in a plaid button-down under a quarter-zip sweater that made his naturally bulky body look a little slimmer. I took the offered beer.
"We can go after this round, Slugger," Dad said in his baritone voice, leaning close to my ear as he briefly put his thick arm around my shoulder with the hand that wasn't holding his own beer bottle. His tone was apologetic, and I knew he worried I'd be bored just hanging out with a bunch of Navy officers.
It was the weekend of the Army-Navy game, only it was in Baltimore that year. Over the night so far, I had gathered from Dad that he and his buddies were missing their favorite haunts this year, but Dad was familiar enough with the city from attending all those Orioles games over the years.
In fact, he and I had just been up in Baltimore in late September to catch a game. But now there was definitely a different energy... There were noticeably more military men milling about everywhere along with the cold dark of winter that I associate with Army-Navy weekend.
In fact, Army-Navy weekend felt like an unofficial anniversary of me and Sean, and I'd even saved the Army-Navy weekend days off on my work calendar. Given the length of Sean's deployment this time, he expected some R&R time and expected either early December or early January as likely times.
Only since early November, I'd heard nothing from him. We'd been in regular communication over the Fall - emails, some video chats, and a phone call. I knew there would be times he'd not be in touch, so I tried not to let it get to me. Dad had reminded me that there was nothing I could do. Sean would reach out when he could. I continued to email short updates on what was going on with me, even if my news was boring or minor. But after a couple of weeks, I cut back, feeling it was overkill.
So I was glad when Dad invited me along to this year's game. Now that I was here, I was grateful not to be spending the weekend in Norfolk alone. I'd initially assumed Dad's spare ticket was for Jack, but I realized he was hoping my brother Matt would be able to come. Matt had been back in the States, back from his own deployment and stationed down in Jacksonville, but he got word of his second deployment in late October and was gearing up for it now.
Matt would be better at the Navy talk, I thought, as I stood on the edge of about a half dozen high-ranking Naval officers. But I didn't mind tagging along, really, but I was clearly the odd man out, younger by about 30 years and in more casual attire than the clean-cut, buttoned-down look Dad's Navy buddies sported. A couple had some Navy logo attire on, but for most the only marker was the Annapolis ring they had on, the gold class ring matching the one Dad had. I hadn't made the connection before then, but other than Jack Grant and Captain Morrison, a family friend I'd known since I was little, all the other officers in Dad's close group had been at the Naval Academy rather than going the ROTC or OTS route.
I knew a couple of the men from previous years, and I'd actually forgotten a couple. Mostly I just listened as I stood next to Dad as he talked shop, and I chatted some with Captain Morrison. Mostly I found myself in a long conversation with another Captain, now retired, whose son had played baseball in high school and who seemed interested in my minor league experiences so far, while I asked him about his retirement life in return.
But as I listened to the retired officer talk, I also took the opportunity to admire the man's older, more masculine features. He was not as handsome as Dad, but had a laid-back masculinity and a Florida tan that brought out his military-styled graying hair and green eyes. Equally low-key, I was checking out most of the men around me, too. Something about this weekend brought together a collection of incredibly attractive military men, and I told myself I could enjoy some surreptitious looking.
Maybe that's why I offered to get Dad another round, along with another beer for the retired officer I was talking to. Dad shot me a quick "are you sure?" look, but I nodded. We probably wouldn't be making a long night of it, but I was having a good time. If we went to another bar, we'd just be dealing with the same crowds there.
It took a while for the bartender to bring the drinks, and as I waited and looked around, I realized there was a fuck ton of hot, off-duty, military men around me, their fresh high fades making them look even more attractive to me. Some in their 20s and 30s were starting to file in, but the majority in this bar at least were middle-aged. Most of them were just my type.
I did miss Sean Carter, who was god knows where, facing god knows what. But my libido was distracting me for sure.
There was even one man in the bar who reminded me of Sean. Tall, built like an ex-football player, with brown hair in a tight buzzcut, he was almost a dead ringer from the back. It made my heart skip a beat, even, until the man turned and I could see the resemblance stop. Given the number of military men around that weekend, I'd probably have that reaction more than once, I figured.
With another round of drinks in hand, I slowly made my way back to our spot in the back of the bar. It was always cool to see Dad in his element. He could be more reserved than outgoing, sometimes, but he was talkative now and in a joking mood, laughing at one of his buddy's stories. Half of these men he'd known since his Academy days.
I watched Dad engrossed in conversation and wondered if any of these guys knew about Dad and Jack. Probably not, though Dad was the sort of man who'd confide in someone he was close to. I'd thought a lot of what my brother Matt had talked to me about on our trip to Savannah, about his worry that dating Jack would interfere with Dad's career. It was weird how Dad's life path had converged in some way with mine. I suspected the end of Dad's career was coming up, while mine was just beginning.
It had been a long day - I'd worked in the morning and there was the drive up, and dinner, and now a few drinks. But I was starting to get a second wind when Dad and I finally left the bar and walked back to our hotel. Dad was in a good mood, and I was glad. Jack was deployed on an assignment overseas, and over the past month Dad had been quieter and more work focused than normal, even lately. I guess like me, he was also dealing with separation, so it was great to see him smile and just be relaxed.
"You OK with calling it a night, Slugger?" he asked. "I'm sure we'll be partying it up tomorrow."
"Yeah," I said, shrugging with my hands in my pockets. "It's been a long day."
As we walked, I did find myself letting my attraction to my father come to the surface, or nearly to the surface. The alcohol and the atmosphere of the Fells Point crowd was bringing down my inner defenses. Besides, Dad looked doubly handsome bundled in his sweater and winter coat. I remembered that fateful night when he came to see me on Thanksgiving my freshman year in college, when we first kissed. Dad was five years older now, and the years had made him look both more mature and even more fit. Maybe dating Jack had him going to the base gym more often, I wondered. At 52, my father was in his prime, the slight wrinkles on his face and silver temples setting off his clean-cut handsome features.
I was realizing that Army-Navy weekend had an effect on me. Maybe it wasn't an accident that I met Sean Carter after one year's game. Or that Sean and I had enjoyed our first threesome after another.
It was just idle thinking, I thought, but as Dad and I got back to our hotel room, there was definitely something more going on as we stood in front of the two full-sized beds. I could sense Dad's gray eyes on me, slightly lingering as I took off my well-worn Virginia ball cap and ran my fingers through my hair in an almost automatic habit. My ears and cheeks were still warming up in the hot, dry air of the hotel room. Dad's features were blushed pink from the cold, too, as he removed his heavy coat and draped it over a chair. Even as we shed our winter outerwear, our gazes kept clicking back to one other.
My father seemed to be appraising my looks and letting his thoughts get carried away, too. I remember way back to my first experience with an older man, a hotel hookup while I was still in high school. The guy told me about the "look" men had when they wanted to find out if another man was interested sexually. It was a look I'd given and received many times. But with the incest, that eye contact played out differently, it was necessarily more guarded, more cautious.
But that night, in the seclusion of our hotel room, as we made small talk and took off the layers of winter clothing, I matched Dad's cautious look with one of my own. Until our eyes fully locked as we stood in front of one another. Dad was probably tipsier than I realized, and I was feeling a good buzz myself.
"You having a good time, Slugger?" he asked, his voice low and relaxed. He dared to meet my gaze as he undid his plaid button down shirt. I hoped that he wasn't wearing a T-shirt beneath, since I was eager to see his bare chest beneath. Indeed, the hairy swell of his pectorals came into view as Dad's fingers worked the lower buttons until his shirt was finally open.
Dad could see my eyes watch him, and his normally serious expression broke into a horny smile. This was like the moment of sexual tension from a couple months earlier, coming back with a vengeance. He'd caught me with a boner and I'd let him see me that way. Now it felt like Dad was letting me see his magnificent body as he opened up the shirt flaps and pulled them from his jeans, before undoing his cuff buttons and pulling it all off his shoulders.
In the low light, I took in all of Dad's naked upper body. He was definitely hitting the gym harder this past year, and his burly muscle looked toned, still with the right amount of bulk - wide, rounded shoulders, thick arms, his stomach not ripped, but hard if a little round. And his chest, packed pectoral muscles that swelled out, bigger in proportion to the rest of him. All of it, blanketed in downy dark brown fur that I could see was also beginning to gray at his sternum.
I looked back at his face. "Yeah," I answered with a catch in my throat. I almost stopped my own action of stripping down for bed, but I realized that would be weird in itself. I crossed my arms at my waist, gripped the bottom of my hoodie and T-shirt and peeled them off and over my head in one go, letting Dad see my athletic, bare torso. The soft blond fur on my chest was starting to really grow in lately, even if it didn't match the thickness of Dad's own body hair.
His eyes now widened as he took in my body now on display. I felt proud, and excited, and nervous all at the same time. Dad's buzzed smile was giving way to lust, and some concern.
"You can say 'no', Slugger," he hissed when he looked back up at me. It was a tone I was so familiar with growing up, Dad's Naval Officer mode of being authoritative even while leaving things up to me. He was slowly undoing his belt, in a way that could be just an undressing before bed, or suggestive of something more.
In the back of my mind, maybe, I wondered if this was the right thing to do. I should have been concerned for Dad's relationship with Jack. And even if Sean and I had an open arrangement, maybe I should have had more willpower then.
But I wasn't thinking, not really. I was going with what my body wanted. My throat clenched and my own dick hardened fully in my jeans. I stepped into his space, reached forward, my fingertips touching his hairy forearm before running my hand up along his bare upper arm, feeling up that bulky muscle. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dad's nostrils flare at my touch. When he dropped his belt, I could hear the soft thud on the carpeted floor.
"Would you be mad if I said 'yes', Dad?" I asked, my voice trembling some. My blue eyes met his gray ones.
I kept waiting for a rebuke. Or for Dad to put the breaks on this. For him to be the responsible one. Instead, he shook his head no and leaned in.
I could feel Dad's breath on my face just a second before our lips connected, slow and tentative, before our mouths opened. I snaked my tongue forward to enter between his lips, while my hand slid from his arm to touch his warm, solid flank. I was already hard, but now I felt an almost painful horniness in my crotch.
Dad's own hands clutched at the smooth muscle just above my waist, sliding around my lower back. I felt the shadow of his clean-shaven beard while our tongues slid against the other between our parted mouths. His fingers traced along my lats as he pulled me deeper into our kiss.
Dad's quick withdrawal was sudden as our kiss broke.
"Oh, shit..." he hissed, his face still close and his Roman nose brushing mine. His face looked like he was trying to compose himself. "Sorry, Slugger, I know that goes against your rules," he muttered, voice bedroom-deep.
I could still feel his fingers on my back muscle while our bodies almost involuntarily nudged against one another, our hard crotches now pressing against one another. As tall as Dad was, I was still an inch taller. Dad held my gaze, and our bare chests grazed one another, then pressed more firmly together.
"It's OK," I grunted, doing the work to re-close the distance between our mouths. In my head, I knew this was wrong, but I couldn't stop myself.
The resulting kiss was needy and electric. Our lips mashed together, and Dad even growled softly into my mouth as we opened our mouths in tandem. Deep in the back of my head, I remembered my no-kissing rule with Dad, and why I wanted it in the first place, but that was out the window now. Without reservation, I pushed my tongue in between our parted lips to meet his. That very act broke the dam of restraint. Dad and I pawed at each other like sex-starved men. Maybe we were in a way.
Our hands gripping every part of bare skin, and we actually humped our bodies together, grinding our trapped hardons against one another. I wondered if Dad could tell how much muscle I'd put on since our last time. For my part, the intervening time gave me a new appreciation for how solid Dad felt - a different kind of solid than Sean's, though.
Dad's tongue was now flitting in my mouth, against my tongue and teasing me to a fevered pitch. Without breaking the kiss, his hands moved around my waist, wedging between our tightly pressed bodies to fumble with the front of my jeans. I scooted back just a little to give him access, and I held on to his meaty body as Dad undid my jeans, unzipping them, and reaching in to grip my hardon. I hadn't experienced sex with Dad like this in so long - impetuous, out of control - and his manhandling touch of my prick, even through my underwear, just about had me cumming.
As he began to slip one hand beneath the elastic band of my boxer briefs, I quickly gripped his wrist to stop his forward motion.
He broke our kiss and pulled back as if chastised. "Sorry, Jim," he hissed.
I shook my head, biting my lip. "I about came, Dad." I muttered, reaching up with one hand to brush Dad's lightly stubble cheek. As much as the kiss, that felt intimate and affectionate.
That made him smile with a bit of lust. "God, I want you so badly," he grunted, then returned my gesture by brushing my cheek with his thumb.
I was almost hyperventilating, chest rising and falling rapidly. I felt afraid to speak.
Dad pulled his hands back, stepping away just a few inches and started to finish undoing his jeans. But I got an impish look on my face and reached forward to brush his hands aside, Dad let me take over, standing still and expectantly, and as I pulled at his jeans, his eyes were on me, challenging, desiring. I undid his fly and pushed the jeans down in a hard yanking motion.
When his jeans passed his knees, I finally got a clear view of his heavy crotch. That massive paternal cock looked trapped in his briefs, painfully so as it lay against his hip and stretched the fabric with its sheer size. My father's endowment was unreal, and yet each time I saw it I had a visual and physical reminder that Dad's prick was, in fact, real. I was made by an oversized cock. I reached out to run my fingers down its obscene length, occasionally looking back up to catch Dad's sexual stare.
"Touch your dad's cock, Slugger," he sighed in a heavy breath, his hands still hanging at his sides. I knew the taboo was a turn on for Dad, too, and his words urged me on.
I latched my fingers in and around the elastic of his briefs and pulled them down over his hardon and down mid-thigh.
There was my dad's uncut cock. I'd held this image in my memory, but it was a powerful experience to see it in the flesh again, all ten fucking inches sticking out of a thick bush of wiry dark pubes. Dad's dick was hard, but its length sometimes meant it lacked the steeliness that less-hung men often had. Indeed, my father's cock fell out into the space between us, heavy and bobbing perpendicular to the floor. I had a front row seat to see it up close, the raised dorsal vein winding down the top of the length, melding into the stretched foreskin as it wrapped around the plump head, just above the flare of the corona. He was leaking, and sap collected in his tightening skin.
I touched it, the skin hot and soft to the touch as it clung to Dad's firm shaft, and I saw the whole length jerk in response before I cradled the heft in my hand.
"Let me see yours," Dad urged, stepping back from my grip to remove his clothing completely. He tugged his jeans down his calves and stepped out of them, finally leaving him naked.
I was rock hard, and I felt my eight, fatter inches stand up more firmly as I removed my jeans and boxer briefs. My own cut cock stood up firmer, pointed right at Dad, while I kicked off my jeans and quickly yanked off my socks.
With an intense look on his face, he took his cock in hand and gave it a smooth stroke, peeling the hood back over the flared purple head only to roll his foreskin back over. I was mesmerized by his foreskin, and Dad seemed to enjoy showing it off to me silently, in a way that made me wonder if Jack Grant was just as into Dad's extra skin as I was, if not more.
Particularly when Dad's stern sexual look got an impish smile. He gave himself a few more slow pulls, coaxing out the pooled precum, some of which dripped onto the floor, the rest sliding down his prick in clear drops.
"Again... you can say no," Dad said with a horny urgency as he kept slowly stroking his cock.
"I'm not saying no, Dad," I answered, shaking my head as I stepped closer and stood in front of him, completely naked and turned on. I felt both vulnerable and completely natural with him like this.
Dad slowly stepped up, and I looked down to watch his dick firm up more in his fist. It was like a beast with a life of its own, I thought as it jerked and rose.
We embraced again, face-to-face, our mouths connecting more softly this time. Dad's touch on my bare body felt even more urgent than mine as I felt up his meaty chest. The kiss was becoming more needy as our lips mashed together. It was starting to sink in that Dad was cheating on Jack now. In my own way, too, I was betraying Sean. This wasn't some random hookup at a bar in Savannah, or some traveling married business man in his hotel. This was my father, and the sexual connection I had with him was deeper.
I winced inside, but in a weird way that just fed my sense of the forbidden. Maybe Dad's, too. We felt each other up, my hands running over Dad's chest and shoulders, Dad's gripping my flank and back. We made out more passionately to make up for the slower kiss. Gradually, Dad walked us back to the edge of the closer of the two beds, holding our kiss while running his wide hands down my lats and over the arch in my lower back until he finally slid his wide hands over the curve of my round, muscled globes.
"You OK, Jim?" he asked, pulling his mouth back. His eyes were searching mine for any sign that said otherwise.
"Yeah, very," I answered, trying to give him a reassuring smile. I palmed his swelled chest, matching the grip he had on my ass. I wished he didn't have to check in on me like this, but I understood why he did.
Just then, I felt his thick fingers slide towards my crack, one hand pulling at my cheek while the other dug into my cleft. It was a soft, simple gesture, and naughty as hell. I could feel his hard paternal cock press against my furry, defined belly, next to my own hard prick.
His gaze fixed on me, reading me and challenging me. I'm not even sure what I was communicating back to him with my eyes, but Dad went further, finding my hole before he began rubbing and gently pressing his thick fingertip against it.
"Fuck," I gasped and gripped Dad's body tighter. I leaned into his warm, strong body a little more, so my ass was more fully in his hands. Dad cooly grinned at me and my reaction while his index finger massaged my dry pucker.
I thought of Sean and how the Soldier craved a dry fuck. There's no way I could do that with Dad, not given his size, but I got a thrill at the fantastical idea.
Dad seemed lost in his own sexual thoughts. But his main focus was clear. "I want to fuck you, Slugger," he said with a grumble while his finger dug a little deeper, soon joined by a second to pull at my tight entrance. His voice edged into that Naval Captain tone, familiar from other contexts. "I'll go slow, but I want inside you."
I actually got goosebumps. "G- ...Yeah," I replied. The verbal confidence I had with Sean was gone out the window, and I was reduced to my most inarticulate self.
Dad grinned, looking pleased. I thought of him as the opposite of Sean, sexually, but in some ways they were similar in their dominant nature, and I was just now seeing that. The man stood with an upright posture that angled his hand out of my cleft and higher up on my ass, where Dad's fingers kneaded my muscle, as if to assess the size and strength of my gluteal muscle.
He seemed to enjoy the sexual tension hanging heavy. "I want you to tell me, Jim," he said in a deep soft voice. "If you want it."
Here we were, father and son, in a Baltimore hotel room, having a private ritual no one else could understand. I looked at Dad with as much confidence as I could muster. "I want you to fuck me, Dad."
Dad gave my butt cheek a soft pat and removed his hands, stepping back. That big dong of his swung like a hard baseball bat. I was insane to be taking it on again, but I'd done it before and loved it. And I trusted Dad.
With a sense of mission he walked into the bathroom, and I heard him rifle through his toiletries bag. He walked out with just a small travel-size tub of Vaseline, which maybe was his normal JO lube, I didn't know.
I was already easing back onto the bed, excited by the idea of what we were about to do, again, after so long. There was a little nervousness, but one that made my skin tingle some and my prick bounce off my belly some. I was even leaking heavily, which I didn't always do.
Dad grinned as he took in the sight of me. He flipped the lid off and set the Vaseline on the nightstand.
Dad's body had definitely toned up since the last time I'd seen him naked, looking fitter despite being older. His arms seemed thicker, and his stomach firmer beneath the soft padding. My father just looked incredible at 52, and the sight of him crawling onto the bed over me, had me grinning in return. I fell fully back into the mattress as Dad's hand ran along my abs. That touch communicated his desire and made me feel proud of the body I'd developed over the last few years. Especially as Dad's eyes seemed to take in my bare flesh, following his hand up as he caressed my chest.
I touched his own meaty pecs, and Dad responded by easing his body on top of mine until he hovered over me. I could feel his long cock graze the soft furs on my inner thigh as our legs mingled. The half-hooded head dragging his sap across my skin. Dad was leaking heavily, too.
"I've been thinking about this for a while, Jimbo," he admitted, looking down at me.
I wrapped one arm around his back and the other I slid up his chest and around his neck. I leaned up to kiss him. Dad met me halfway. This was forbidden fruit, in a big way. Especially when I pressed my tongue back between Dad's lips and had him gently suck it into his mouth before pushing back with his own. While we kissed, he climbed and settled fully onto my athletic body, pressing me down into the mattress with his body weight. I wrapped my legs around his solid waist and could feel the length of his prick settle in the spot beneath my balls.
That position and the body contact with Dad made me want to get fucked. The last time we'd done this I'd worked myself up to take it from him roughly, and the experience was intense, but purely sexual. This was more impetuous, and more intimate at the same time.
We kissed and humped each other. My hands had a better chance to explore his body, especially his strong back. Dad wasn't sculpted like Sean Carter, and he didn't have the same rock hard muscle. But his build was still fit and amazing to feel up. And as Dad thrust his longer cock between my spread legs and kissed me harder, his hands moved to feel up my hard chest.
"You're so fucking hot, Dad," I hissed when we finally broke the kiss. I'd gotten used to more verbal sex with Sean, even playful. Dad and I didn't have that dynamic, but just speaking out loud, just calling him Dad in this context turned us both on.
"You're not so bad yourself either, Son," Dad winked then leaned down to kiss my chest muscle. I knew I was more built than the last time we'd had sex - bigger and more defined. I had maybe ten pounds more muscle on me. I had no idea if Dad preferred that, but Jack had a strong, compactly muscular build himself, and at that moment, Dad definitely was into my body, licking and then kissing my pecs more, even wetting the softer blond hairs to my skin before going lower, giving my abs the same treatment.
I looked down and enjoyed the view of his built, well-proportioned shoulders. I touched the side of his head in gentle encouragement before my fingers ran through his thick neat hair, seeing the stray grays in his officer hair cut.
"Oh fuck!" I gasped when Dad got to my cock. I felt the rough skin of his cheek brush my shaft before I felt his breath, and then his lips. I gasped again when Dad then licked down my length, running his tongue along the ridged underside until he reached the tip. I half expected him to take me in his mouth, but instead he licked back down my shaft. My prick jerked as that realization sunk in again that my own father had his mouth and tongue on my dick. I don't know that I'd ever get over the thrill and the mindfuck of it all.
Up and down, Dad licked my bone then moved down to tongue my balls a little. For some reason, I'd never had a guy lave my nuts like that and my body was responding with a ticklish reaction that fed my sexual heat.
I had to wonder if Dad's recent time with Jack had given him more sexual experience with men, or at least put him in a different frame of mind with it. Or maybe we'd been so guarded with each other lately that this felt new.
Dad pulled off. As his face came back into view, I took in the handsome features that I was primally attracted to - his thick brow, deep set eyes, Roman nose, strong chin and square jaw. His normally neat hair was mussed and there was a definite cold sexual luster to his eyes. His hands roughly gripped underneath my thighs, and hoisted them up.
My knees came to just under my chest, my feet now in the air. Dad moved back between my now spread legs, his slight stubble now brushing my inner thigh as he kissed down my taint, until all I could see was just the top of his head. I immediately felt Dad's prickly stubble in the cleft of my ass, mere seconds before I felt the smooth wetness of his lapping tongue. I reached up and gripped the bedding just above my head as I moaned, Dad hands still on my thighs, pushing and holding my legs in place.
I'd been 20 when Dad and I had our whirlwind sex week in Mexico. I was 24 now, and the four years had given me more sexual experience. I fed Dad my hole as much as his mouth claimed it, moving my hips back and forth slightly to ride his tongue. Other men, Sean especially, had taught me how much I loved getting eaten out. And now Dad was responding to my newfound eagerness. Pulling his head back, Dad looked up at me, spit on his chin and a surprised smile on his face.
"Guess we're both enjoying this even more than last time," he said, a light-hearted connection seeping in alongside Dad's sexual intensity.
It took me a second, but I realized that Dad had clearly explored rimming more with Jack as well. For some reason that realization made my dick rock hard against my crunched abs. "Yes, Sir," I said, with an embarrassed chuckle.
The Sir word seemed to flick some switch in Dad. His nostrils flared and his gray eyes got that steeliness again as he leaned back into my spread crack again.
I took over the grip on my legs to hold them back for my father now. Dad in turn slid his hands down the back of my thighs, until his fingers pried my ass cheeks further apart. Within seconds, I felt Dad's lips on my hole once more, kissing it just before his tongue speared inside.
My hole fluttered open around Dad's now prodding tongue. He deeply grunted into my hole, sending vibrations into my body. My tunnel clenched as his stubble scraped the now overly sensitive skin between my buns. Then I relaxed again at the soft, wet flutter against my pucker.
It was probably only a minute more of rimjob, but I was getting out of control horny. "God, Dad!" I pleaded, lifting my head to look at him. He looked back at me, his tongue still drilling in and out of me. Needy, I pulled my legs back further and wider to let Dad get in there. He groaned against my hole, and his tongue pressed a bit deeper.
Turns out that Dad was worked-up pretty bad himself. He pulled back just an inch or two, letting my hole seal back up around his withdrawing tongue before he spit softly on my now relaxed ring, reaching forward to spread the saliva around my pucker with his finger. "Been a while since you've been fucked, Slugger?" he asked. His tone was a crazy mix of paternal concern and lewd sex talk.
"Yah," I hissed in reply. God I wanted him to breach me with that finger of his so bad. "Seven, eight months," I confessed, unable to do the math in my head since Sean's last time fucking me. Dad looked up at me, the gleam in his steely eyes suggesting that he knew my boyfriend was that last one in me - the time coinciding with Sean leaving on deployment.
Dad nodded and reached over to the Vaseline on the nightstand with this other hand. I watched, heart pounding, while he dug into the viscous gel, smearing a big daub between his thumb and index fingers.
I tightened my grip around my legs and held my thighs back into my chest. Now fully splayed for him, I could see his masculine, middle-aged body more fully. Dad's eyes widened as he turned his attention back to the view. His eyes swept up to meet mine as he scooted up some and placed his lubed finger between my spread buns. I felt the tacky sensation of the jelly against my hole, and as Dad smeared it around, it smoothly liquified. Methodically, he pulled out a bigger gob, pressing his fingertip inside and working the jelly into my hole.
I tensed then let out a soft hiss of air once his finger breached my ring. It felt good, better than good. And I enjoyed seeing Dad's serious lust-driven expression break into a quick smile at my reaction. Then he got that determined look as a second finger breached me.
Our communication was nonverbal as Dad fingered me smoothly, coating my shallow inner walls with thick lube and stretching my ring a little more. No doubt he was methodical in prepping me for his thick, long cock, and it didn't take me too long to relax for him. It was like my body was craving him more than I realized. I'd bought a regular sized dildo and had played with it some over the last few months, and besides, the muscle memory of bottoming was still there. I was overdue for a fuck, and the fact that it was Dad who was going to do the honors had my ring unclenching and my insides welcoming the deeper probing of his digits. Two, and now three, twisting around and punching deeper.
I wasn't even nervous as Dad reached over to the nightstand one more time and took a thicker gob of Vaseline. I took stock again of his handsome, muscular body covered in soft brown fur, with his broad shoulders and full, hard pecs. My Dad was about to fuck me again, I realized, and goosebumps broke out on my bare skin.
My father's eyes were on me again, holding my stare as he took his long cock in hand, smearing the petroleum jelly down over his uncut length. I watched Dad stroke himself, catching the gold glint of his Naval Academy ring on his right ring finger and enjoying the sight of his meaty foreskin rolling back and forth over the flared head of that long prick.
"You ready, Jim?" he asked, his cock now shining with a dull gleam in his fist. His bedroom voice not going away, but the father in him giving me an out if I wanted.
"More than ready, Dad," I hissed, lying further back into the bed. I'd relaxed my legs some but now pulled them straight back to my chest once more. I sensed Dad craved my active assent, so I added, "I want you to fuck me. So bad."
If that came across needy, Dad didn't seem to think so. His nostrils flared and his greased cock twitched as he scooted forward onto the bed. I felt the slick tip of cock tap my inner thigh as he reached out, gripping my knotted calves and placing my ankles on his built shoulders. He looked down, taking his cock back into his grip, watching his hand as he lined the hooded head of his cock against my entrance. He gave his cock a slow stroke, letting me feel his foreskin bunch at the tip and kiss my pucker, leaving an extra coat of his natural sap to add to the tacky-slick jelly.
I took a hold of my own cock, not stroking, just choking it as it pulsed in my grip. Dad's eyes stayed locked on our connection as I felt him begin to press into me while rotating his cock head in tight little circles. He got a toe hold just inside my ring, which made us both let out a soft grunt of excitement. He watched me carefully, but I gave him only a look of eager excitement. Dad pressed a bit more, the rotation of his dick against my hole working just a little more of that paternal prick inside.
I knew to push out with my insides, and combined with Dad's inward pressure, that did the trick. I held my breath while my ring finally relaxed, taking in Dad's cock head in one smooth swallow. Dad looked pleased, feeling and watching my hole accept his mammoth meat. Excited by my own body's ability to accept him, I pushed out more, matching the steady pressure from his hips. Dad took a hold of my left calf just above my ankle, leveraging my leg while he pushed another inch into me.
Somehow, he knew not to give me too much time to second guess myself. Before I could clench up, he bored a solid four inches of dad cock into my guts. It caught me by surprise, especially now that the flared head of Dad's cock nudged and then pressed into the tight knot developing a few inches deep. My own dick was still hard on my stomach, but I was nervous the hardon would flag from the penetration of my father's bigger cock.
Dad stopped and held still, though, watching my face force a relaxed expression and my breath get back to normal after being held for a spell. He held still, letting his cock flex inside me, his hand caressing my calf muscle while my chute adjusted to his presence.
"My own son," he hissed. We'd done this before, but it was hard not to get over the outrageousness of the incest each time.
"Your own son, Dad," I grunted back. Voicing that out loud made my dick grow fully rigid again and my insides clench around him.
I watched the more cold sexual look roll over Dad's face, his lips hardening into a quiet sneer as he leaned down over me, my ankles pressing back to his shoulders as his hands planted themselves just under my arms. I watched the thick round muscle in his shoulder and arms flex, holding his chest well over mine. The angle of my half folded body had my ass at the perfect level for Dad to flex his hips. More cock pressed in.
Dad was a man of his word and he was taking it slow in a way. But it was intense, particularly when his prick slowly slid in deeper. Still, the surprise resumption of our sexual connection now had me in the headspace to take my father's dong. My insides were tight, but my body was cooperating with my head at that moment.
I let out a moan, and Dad matched with his own low grunt. "Slugger..." he hissed as he rode a wave of my rectum's spasms. His eyes read my face to see if he needed to stop. He didn't.
Dad leaned in and I craned my head up to connect with him for another kiss. The sensation of his tongue pushing between my parted lips made his dick feel even more amazing inside me. Dad was sliding deeper and deeper inside me, going for full penetration. Finally, his pubes mashed against my cheeks.
My whole body felt alive. My ring was now relaxed into a pleasant stretch, and my insides felt a buzz of sexual pleasure. My skin was flushed and warm and my muscles tense with excitement. I'd taken every inch of my father's cock.
Dad moaned into my mouth, then I felt him pull back, that slick cock sliding back out a few inches before his hips snapped. He trusted back into me with a slow but powerful thrust, deep but just shy of his full 10-inches. Then again. I was getting fucked by Dad, for real. The sensation and realization had me moaning back into his mouth. I slipped one hand around his neck while the other gripped his furry chest.
I was opening up fully for him now. Dad for his part eased back from the kiss, and I realized it was so he could get a better position to thrust into me. His soulful eyes looked down on me, excited to see my naked body and my younger face. My left hand slipped off his neck and I clenched his bicep to hold on and to touch him.
I was feeding off the act and his gaze, and my eye contact back was welcoming, needy even. "Fuck me." It was almost like a command, but maybe also begging some.
Dad leveraged his body up and was now thrusting excitedly into me. Sweat broke across his temple, dampening the silvery short hairs there. His whole upper body seemed to contract in a wave-like motion as he got a good rhythm in and out of me. I watched his normally neat hair fall over his forehead as his whole body thrusted into me. The man looked so beautiful having sex.
I'd gone from accommodating him and his huge size to feeling total pleasure. I could feel his veined shaft rolling over my swollen prostate, over... and over. Each motion made my untouched cock jerk and drool onto my crunched abs. With steady fuck thrusts, Dad's monster was pressing my butt nut and tapping that second spot deep inside me. That intensity triggered the familiar sensation of my chute trying to clench around Dad's sawing shaft, only to feel his uncut cock move within itself as it bored in and out of me. My fingers dug tighter into Dad's muscular arms. My nuts cinched up, and I wasn't sure how long it would be before I came.
Dad was thinking something similar. "You know I never can hold off with you, Slugger," he growled through gritted teeth.
"You don't have to, Dad," I said. I wanted him to cum badly. My calves tensed next to his neck, my feet just behind his ears. I was being taken fully. This was the sex of my JO fantasies, and as much as I wanted it to go on, I was way too keyed up. "I could probably cum any second."
I was holding off stroking for that reason. Dad paused mid-thrust, breathing heavy as he leaned over and reached for more Vaseline. We were probably going to deplete that travel-sized tub with just this fuck.
Dad used his fingers to smear it into his palm and reached down between us and took my red-hot cock in his right hand grip. The stuff felt thick and sticky against my boner. I'd never used it as lube, and it had an unfamiliar viscosity. But once Dad wrapped his fist around my fat cock and started stroking, it all felt incredible.
"Oh FUCK!" I gasped.
Dad seemed mission focused now. He leaned back over me, my ankles back squarely on his shoulders. Keeping my ass elevated, the man slowly began thrusting deeper. My toes curled as I let out a soft grunt. Dad was deep-dicking me now, and I felt his pubes press into my taint, the furthest reaches of my chute now being spread open. The feeling of Dad's hand while his dick was buried full up inside me was a mindfuck in the best way.
He gave me a few seconds to get used to that maximum penetration then his strong middle-aged body thrust into me again. And again.
I held on to Dad's arms while he fucked faster. I heard the rhythmic slapping sound of sweaty flesh as Dad hips pounded my ass cheeks. I felt more power in each shove, and those ten inches were now bottoming out with each go. At another time, that sensation would be too much, but now the intensity was pushing me into a hard orgasm. Faster, his hand worked me, in time with his fuck.
The fact that it was his hand on my dick rather than mine meant the cum played out differently, almost more in slow motion. I felt my balls pull up, almost painfully against the base of my cock. Dad must have felt my shaft swell in his grip. My vision grew light right before I clenched my eyes shut and I felt a stabbing pleasure rip down my cock as cum flew out. The orgasm was crazy intense, and I suddenly felt every nerve in my chute ignite around Dad's cock as my rectal muscles snapped around it.
Some of my sperm spilled over Dad's still pumping fist, but most sprayed all over my chest as some even doused my neck in heavy pearly white ropes.
Dad kept thrusting, riding his cock more shallowly as my hole now spasmed tightly. His foreskin allowed his prick to still glide in and out of my tunnel despite my tensing orgasm.
Those extra small thrusts were enough to get Dad to his own cum, too, just seconds behind me. Dad let go my cock, leaving it plump and dribbling against my abs. His cummy hand now gripped my shoulder, pulling me back onto his still pumping prick, my hole still clenching with my fading orgasm. I watched his O face contort above me, then Dad ground his hips against my ass and held steady. It wasn't a simultaneous orgasm, but it was close. Dad's breathing grew ragged and his eyes rolled back just a little before they widened and met mine. It was a sexual connection, but also something personal and intimate.
Now that I'd cum, the fog of climax was lifting and Dad's size was starting to get uncomfortable in me. Thankfully Dad caught his breath, regained his normal consciousness, and slowly pulled back. I grunted as I felt my hole still trying to grip at Dad's quickly softening cock, the length still surprising me until the slick head started to slip from now tingling pucker. For a split second, I felt my closing ring grip at the nozzle of Dad's foreskin, pulling at the bunched tip before his dong fully fell from my hole. I felt empty now, but thoroughly fucked. I almost expected his cum to drip out as his dick cleared the breach, but he'd shot way up deep inside me.
Maybe he was watching for the same thing as his eyes fixed on my now empty hole. Or maybe he was just getting one last look. For my part, I was enjoying the sight of his greasy dong, the Vaseline now a liquid sheen over the long, softening shaft.
Dad scooted back and gently set down my legs. "Come on, Jim," he said as he patted my thigh and scooted off the bed. "Let's get you showered off."
I was still feeling a little of the endorphin high from the sex, doubled with the fatigue from the alcohol, and my head felt temporarily woozy. But Dad offered his hand to help me up and I took it.
"You're a big boy these days," he joked at my bigger build and weight now, in addition to my slightly taller height.
I gave a little laugh, enjoying the way the tension was broken a little. In the bathroom, Dad started the shower, the hot water beginning to steam behind the glass while he checked the temperature and let me in first. The water felt great as I quickly wet my hair, letting the spray wash over my face before slicking my hair back. Already, I could feel the soft sting of my hole as it made contact with the hot water, and, deeper, there was the duller ache that reminded me of the size of dick I'd just taken.
Dad joined me, stepping up behind me and taking some shower gel in his hand and sudsing it over my back and shoulders with his strong, gently massaging hands. It was a pleasant, intimate sensation, and I leaned back into him, feeling his mounded chest against my shoulder blades.
Still, now that I'd gotten my rocks off, reality was sinking in. "Dad..." I asked nervously as I gently turned my head. "Did we fuck up?"
Dad's hands stopped temporarily. "Maybe. Yeah." Then his hands moved around my front, fingers running up my abs to my chest as I felt his softened dick gently move between my round globes. I felt my own relaxed dick twitch some. Dad's forehead rested against the back of my neck. "I didn't want to mess anything up between you and Sean," he said. "I know you think I don't approve of him, but I mean it, Jimbo."
"Dad," I sighed, then turned around in his arms until I was facing toward him. God, he looked so vulnerable and guilty looking. I don't think I'd seen him like that, ever. Not in Mexico, even. "I'll figure things out with Sean," I assured him. "It's Jack I was referring to."
"I'll tell him I fucked someone else," Dad said softly, his hands slipping down to my waist. Our soft dicks were now touching. "Won't say who of course."
That surprised me - how nonchalant he was about that.
"He won't mind?" I asked.
"Maybe he will, maybe not," Dad said. "He gave me a hall pass with women, and I gave him one for other men." Dad saw the surprised reaction in my face. "He's afraid I'll feel trapped in a gay relationship."
I had a lot of questions, but Dad cut them off at the pass. "You know... ever since you told me you and Sean had an open arrangement, I kept thinking of us together. And you seemed to want it too, Jim," he said. Dad's hands moved back over my chest and resumed washing my body.
"I didn't mean to," I said, my head shaking ever so slightly. My eyes swept up and down his nakedness, taking in the bulk of his body one more time. "But it's impossible for me not to want it, you know?"
Dad nodded in a way that said he did, a small smile curling at one corner of his lips. "Like I say, Jimbo, we have this thing between us. I don't know if it ever goes away. Not fully."
Dad pushed along my side and under the shower spray, our muscular bodies brushing up against one another as we swapped positions in the shower. I took the occasion to feel up his body, loving how the water matted down his thicker pelt. I helped him soap up before he rinsed off.
We finally turned off the water and dried ourselves off silently in the plush hotel towels. When we stepped back into the room, Dad retrieved his underwear from the floor and put it back on. I took his cue and found mine, too.
He seemed thoughtful as he took the other of the two double beds, sitting down on it. "I was going to offer to get another room, but there's no way at this point," he said matter-of-factly.
"You mad at me, Dad?" I asked as I took a seat on the opposite bed. The guilt was coming fast and furious now.
He shook his head. "Mad at myself."
I didn't know what to say to that.
Dad gave me a forced smile. "Time for bed?" he asked. "You don't have to come, but I told Cal I'd meet him for breakfast." Cal was Capt. Morrison.
"Yeah," I said.
I got under the covers, which were slightly damp from the fuck we'd just had. I even saw the open tub of Vaseline on the nightstand next to it as I reached to turn off the light.
It took me forever to get to sleep, and I could tell Dad wasn't sleeping either. But we both lay in silence, in separate beds.
*****
I stirred the next morning in the hotel bed. I heard Dad in the adjacent bathroom, running water in the sink. I was still learning how to be an early riser, and Sean Carter's ways had been rubbing off on me some. But I was sleepy that morning and drifted off to sleep again.
It was about two hours later when I finally got out of bed. The sun was coming in between the closed curtains when I opened my eyes. Dad had plans for an early breakfast with his Naval Academy buddy, Capt. Morrison, and I noticed his bed was neatly made, like he somehow forgot about the maid service. But then I remembered Sean was the same way.
I slipped out from the warm covers and took a quick rinse in the shower. I could feel the soft sting in my hole still, a reminder of the challenge of taking a 10-inch cock after not bottoming for months. In a way, I got some satisfaction from the soreness, like a trophy from the accomplishment. And the memory of Dad fucking me made my prick plump into a raging hardon under the shower. It still gave me a thrill that I had the chance for these incestuous experiences with my father, and I knew that I'd relish them, even when we stopped.
I mostly dressed, tying my shoes, when I heard the door click open, announcing Dad's return. He was dressed similarly to yesterday, only with a Navy logoed fleece this time beneath his winter coat. Dad was not normally a hat guy - only in uniform. His dark hair was back to being styled to regulation, if a little wind-swept, but his stoically handsome face looked flushed and red from the cold.
As he took off his heavy coat, he had a cautious look on his face, the deep lines creasing around his eyes, but he quickly responded to my more chipper mood now that I'd had a night to sleep on things.
"You better bundle up, Jimbo," he said, placing his coat over the heavy-backed chair as he watched me finish lacing up my sneakers. "It's pretty windy today."
"You ever get sick of this weather?" I asked, looking up at him as I finally stood up, fully dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. I don't know why I asked, but my conversation with the former Naval Officer about his Florida retirement had me wondering if Dad would ever move somewhere warmer.
"Sometimes," he said, watching me walk over to my duffle bag. "I'd miss it if I ever left it, though." He seemed amused by the question, though. "Why do you ask? Hoping to make your home in Houston, Slugger?"
Dad never put pressure on me for my baseball career, but I did dream about the majors and what that would be like.
"Already shopping for a house, Dad," I joked, looking up at him as I rummaged through my bag. For a while I was in this mode where I worried I was going to jinx my chances at the majors, but lately I realized I should lighten up. Some things were in my control, and other things out of it.
Dad laughed, the smile lines forming on face made him even more handsome. "Just remember us when you're famous, OK?" he winked at me.
"Deal," I said as I finally pulled out the olive green Army hoodie Sean had given me.
I could see Dad give me a side eye as I slipped it over my head, but he didn't say anything. He'd seen me wear it before, at last year's Army/Navy in Philly, and once again I had "United States ARMY" printed across my chest. And I picked up a black fitted ballcap, with its ARMY logo on the front. This year, I didn't have divided loyalties. I was going to root for Army whole-heartedly. If Sean wasn't going to be there, I had to cheer in his place.
We made our way outside and Dad wasn't exaggerating: the weather was cold and blustery, with low clouds hanging over the city. The streets were bustling, though, with the usual groups of younger and older military men walking in our same direction. Dad and I made a stop at a small but crowded coffee shop so I could get a breakfast sandwich and some coffee, then we made our way over to M&T Stadium.
Sex with Dad weighed on me all throughout that morning, of course as we walked, and made small talk. The lingering guilt but also the thrill. It had been really, incredibly hot between us, even after so long. But as we entered the stadium gates, along with the thickening crowd of military folks and other fans, I thought more of Sean. I wished there was a way to check my email that day, even if that was probably a compulsive urge more than something that would help. I'd hear from Sean when I heard from him. But it had been almost a month now, and it was getting harder not to think the worst.
As we settled into the stadium seats, fresh beers in hand, Dad kept looking over at me, silently checking in on me. I knew he was worried about the lines we'd crossed, but somehow I was now feeling Sean's absence more than anything. I didn't let on too much, and just decided to channel that energy into cheering for Army.
As the band played and the teams ran onto the field, I took in the roaring bleacher sections filled with a sea of young Navy midshipman, and another large swath filled with raucous West Point cadets, all of them in their uniforms. I thought back to my and Sean's last Army/Navy, and while the three-way sex had been fun, I missed everything else Sean and I did that weekend.
As Dad and I watched the game, we gave each other some ribbing back and forth. Navy scored in the first quarter, then Army started the second with a field goal. I got more and more engrossed in the game, standing up a couple times and yelling with the other Army fans.
But then something happened that changed my weekend.
Navy got touchdown after touchdown. And then another... and another. It wasn't just any win, but a 38-3 blow out.
Navy's victory wasn't a surprise, after the previous five years. But damn, I'd been rooting for Army to pull through this time. Maybe it wasn't rational, but it was like I was using them to root for Sean to pull through. To come home safe.
At the restaurant where Dad had made reservations, I could tell Dad was pleased with the Navy win, but his attention through dinner seemed to be on me, like he was trying to assess my emotions.
We ended up at a crowded nearby pub and ordered one pint. The crowd was back, and the feel of mostly military men had shifted from the anticipation of the game to the beating Army got handed to them. Dad and I were lucky enough to snag a small table near the window, again keeping the conversation light. There was a sudden burst of yelling half-drink midshipmen. But as I offered to buy the next round Dad stopped me just before I stood up. "You know, what do you think of heading back to the room early?"
It was like Dad had rescued me from going through the motions of having a fun evening and probably drinking too much to drown my emotions. "Yeah," I agreed. "Sounds good."
The room felt warm and quiet - the opposite of the pub we'd just left. I peeled off my heavy coat and Army hoodie, leaving me in just my t-shirt and jeans, though I wasn't ready to lose the Army cap Sean had given me. I laughed to myself thinking about how Sean used to tease me about always taking my cap off indoors.
I took off my sneakers and socks and sat on one of the beds. It was too early to go to sleep maybe, but I wasn't in the mood to do much else either. Dad sat across from me on the other bed, similarly dressed. "You're missing him today, aren't you, Slugger?" he asked.
I couldn't manage to fully look at him from under the brim of my cap, but I nodded affirmatively, unable to speak. Then the tears just came out. I'd lost it before with Dad, but this felt even rawer emotionally. As I bawled, Dad crossed over and put his arm around my shoulder.
"There, son," he said. "Let it out."
I cradled my face in his neck and wrapped my arms around him and cried while he held me. I felt embarrassed for breaking down like this in front of him, but I also knew this was one man in the world who wouldn't judge me or think me weak for it.
After several minutes, I calmed down a bit - my sobs turning to light sniffles as I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. My head was on his shoulder, his chin pressed against my ballcap as Dad spoke plainly, "He's going to be OK, Slugger, I know it. And... you know I'm here for you. We're all here for you."
His words were perfect and I clung to his body. As my breathing slowly returned to normal, I muttered an apology. "Sorry, Dad."
"Nothing to be sorry for," he reassured me, his cheek pressing against my head.
We weren't in a rush to let go, and the contact was doing more than comforting me as we sat in silence. It reminded me of the sexual contact of the night before. The mind works in weird ways, and I craved some kind of physical contact as a way to deal with my emotions right then. My father's body felt warm and firm, and really good in my arms. No doubt about it: holding him was making me horny.
He didn't seem eager to release his hold, and I decided to take a chance.
"Dad," I asked softly. "Can we have sex tonight?"
I felt his hand pat my shoulder and his voice got a little lower and a little softer. "Don't think that's a good idea, Jim. You're feeling pretty vulnerable right now." He pulled me tighter to his body though. "How's this? If you still want to when your head is clearer, we'll have some fun tomorrow. Or whenever. OK?"
I nodded. I felt embarrassed for having asked, but I think Dad knew why I did.
He let me go and scooted away before getting up on the bed, resting his upper body against the pillows and the headboard and patting his thigh.
"Come on, Slugger," he said, gently. "Lie back against me for a bit."
It was the perfect invitation. Dad knew anything else had the danger of escalating into something more sexual. But he was offering me what I needed then. I crawled up onto the mattress and took a seat between his legs and reclined back into his warm embrace. My head resting between his mounded pecs, my cap still on. I could smell his cologne now.
Dad's arms lay over my shoulder and rested on my chest. Our breaths quickly synched and I felt his strong chest rise and fall against the back of my head. It reminded me of the time early on in our affair, when we'd had sex in my college dorm room. Just me and Dad resting on the bed like this.
I got hard. Rock hard. Dad knew, but he didn't care. His hands alternated between softly caressing my chest and resting still as we talked.
"I'm happy to be here for you, Jim," he said softly after a while. "But I hope you can find a friend to talk to."
"Yeah," I said, taking in Dad's comments. "I keep stuff bottled in... it's not good."
He patted my chest, "I guess we have our secret," he said thoughtfully, in a tone that was empathetic. Dad bottled stuff in, too, I realized. "But for the other things... maybe your buddy Charlie?" Dad knew Charlie Holt was also gay, and really my only gay friend.
I thought for a second. "Charlie's great, but not so good at the emotional stuff, you know?" It's not that my friend wasn't supportive, but he definitely was uncomfortable once conversation strayed too far from having a good time.
"Sometimes people rise to the occasion if you give 'em a chance," Dad said.
It was another Dad lecture, and I had to laugh a little.
"I know why you're laughing, young man," Dad said with a deadpan humor.
"You're probably right," I replied, feeling the mood shift. "That's what's so fucking annoying."
I could sense the smile on his face even if I couldn't see it. I felt him give my torso a final pat before he removed his hands. "Do you feel like maybe going down to the hotel bar? We can get one last drink before bed."
I knew what Dad was thinking. It was too early for bed, and if we lay like this something was probably going to happen.
"Yeah," I said, regathering my normal composure and sliding out from my resting place against him in the bed.
I was erect but maybe not too evident in my jeans. I had a feeling Dad knew and didn't mind.
He got out of the bed and went to piss in the restroom while I slipped my olive green Army hoodie back on and put my shoes on once more. I'd willed myself down enough to take my turn.
"Ready?" he asked as I stepped out. He gave me a look that conveyed he knew what a mind fuck the day and the whole weekend had been for me, and I could see he was dealing with his own powerful emotions.
"Yessir," I said.
*****
I didn't take Dad up on his offer for sex the next morning, nor did he remind me.
The sound of the shower woke me. The room was dark, but Dad had left the bathroom door slightly open as the light flooded into the small entryway. Rousing up, I looked over at the other double bed, empty now and neatly made.
In just my boxer briefs, my morning wood was there under the covers, but I tried to will it down. My body may have had a mind of its own, but my head was still thinking about Sean. Halfway around the world and in harm's way. That worry I had was coming back like a hangover from the day before. If I was back home I'd be checking my email first thing.
I rolled over and pulled off the covers. I checked my watch that was on the nightstand. Around 6:00 a.m. It was early, but we'd gone to bed early. After our drinks at the downstairs hotel bar I'd actually fallen asleep right away, having not slept well the night before.
"Hey," Dad said as he stepped out of the steamy bathroom, just out of the shower. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to sleep in." He had on just his underwear, white briefs and just a towel wrapped around his neck as dried off his now messy dark hair. He looked incredible - all muscled bulk and covered in damp body hair that clung to his skin. I knew I'd never be able to fully compartmentalize my lust for the man, but I was glad he also acted normal around me, confident enough to share the hotel room like this.
"I'm good," I said, half-sitting up, my morning voice catching in my throat. Back home, I'd have to get back into my early morning conditioning routine, as well as back into the gym.
I now slipped out of bed, half naked, and asked if the shower was mine.
"Have at it, Jimbo," Dad said. "Maybe we can grab breakfast and hit the road early."
"Yeah, sounds good," I said before I entered the bathroom.
I took a quick shower and decided to hold off shaving until later. When I stepped back into the room, I noticed that Dad had already gone on down. His overnight bag was neatly packed and waiting on the bed, and a text from him was on my phone.
"Come on down when you're ready. I got you a coffee."
I got dressed and ventured down to meet him. I was surprisingly hungry so we decided to eat in the adjacent restaurant. There was a big crowd from the visitors in town for the game, but I drank from the coffee Dad had bought me as we waited and people watched.
Over breakfast, Dad and I made some small talk. We'd had such an emotionally charged weekend, and yet there was a comfort I had hanging out with my father. There was something that reminded me of Mexico and that first realization Dad could be Dad, and something more at the same time. I was seeing him as a true man, flawed even, but someone maybe not too different from me.
The drive home was certainly quicker than the one from Philly, and traffic was light on Sunday morning. Dad and I talked about next year's game, which was planned for Philadelphia again.
"You think you'll be home for it?" I asked.
"We'll see," Dad said. "But it looks likely." His voice was even now, the way it gets when he's in a contemplative mood. "Listen, Slugger..." he started, his eyes on the road. "You know I'm going to support you with your minor league career, but next year, I think it's a good idea if you don't live at home."
I hadn't thought of that, but the minute Dad said it, I realized he was right. We could keep boundaries and compartmentalize only so much. Maybe sex between us was bound to happen this weekend after us spending so much time alone together.
"Yeah, I get it, Dad," I said. "You're right."
He looked over at me quickly before turning back to the road. "I don't mean to be harsh, son. It just needs to happen."
"I know," I said, a little annoyance coming out in my voice that Dad didn't believe me. "I know I need to grow up more. Become more independent."
Dad shrugged. "Jimbo, you're an incredibly brave young man. You're dealing with so much, and I'm proud of how you're handling it."
My eyes misted some, but the words meant so much. Even after this weekend, of me potentially fucking up Dad's relationship with Jack, after ruining his weekend with my own emotional issues, the man was cheering me up.
"Thanks, Dad," I said.
We drove the next hour in silence, other than the radio. There wasn't really much else to say.
*****
It was a couple of days later when I got an email from Sean Carter's familiar military email address.
"Dear Jim,
I'm finally back online. I still haven't read all of your emails, but I look forward to each one. I have some lousy, turpentine coffee to drink for my morning reading ahead. Just wanted you to know I'm well. Thinking about you.
Sean"
