This is my first story ever published in here. Be kind to the newbie. Also, my native language is not the English. So, if you find any grammar errors, please help me to correct them.
The sun was shining bright on the sky when Peter’s train arrived at the station. The young man exited the carriage in a rushed. His ice blue eyes narrowed in the bright light. The broad figure from the 19 year old football player stood out in the crowd. With 1,97, broad arms and legs, it was hard to miss him. A perfect mixture of masculinity and something else. Something tender, sweet. Looking at him was like looking to the greek god Adonis.
A sigh of relief was audible as he run his hands through his blond hair. He straighten his clothes, trying to seem presentable after the long train ride. It has been a while since he visited his father. The anticipation was palpable.
“A all year... I miss him so much.” He thought, with a sense of nostalgia, as he begun to walk to the taxis waiting outside the train station. Several people were passing, coming and going from and to trains, making him zigzagging to avoid bumps against other persons .
“This I didn’t missed” he thought with a smile as he made his way to the exit.
He signal a taxi nearby. The driver, a middle age man with a ti combed hair and friendly features, helped him to carry his bags to the vehicle.
“To Arbour Lane 37, please” he said politely. He knew the address by heart. It was his home since his parents divorce. His mother died giving birth to Peter, so he was raised with his father Paul. They were inseparable. The pure bond between father and son was beautiful. Peter was earth and heaven to Paul. His world pivoted around his son. Most people talked about the way Paul acted on Peter. Always a touch, a kiss. Fingers lingering on the neck or the on the boy sides. Paul couldn’t care less.
For Peter that was natural. The most perfect way to show love and care. He liked to be with that man. His scent, his arms, his body. It felt like protected by an armour that shielded him from the world.
Until just before college Peter used to crawl into his father bed and cuddle all night long. It was as natural as breathing. His strong arms embracing him all night long. His body pressed against his father’s body.
Leaving his house to study in other city was hard on both. The constant phone calls, video chats and messages minimized the absence they felt for each other.
Paul was a man that always impose respect and force wherever he enterer. With 1,98 meters, broad chest and arms that were due to his disciplined workout routine, the lawyer was a stud. If you look at him too long it was possible to see him as a Greek statue. He had de same blue eyes and blonde hair than his son. Is demeanour was always stern. And his calm easily lost. Paul had a short fuse and could go from calm to rage in no time.
Despite that, there was only one person that was able to soften his temper. His son Peter. The man would bend over backwards to see a smile on his son’s face.
Everyone said Peter was a copy of his father. Except the temper. Paul was rough, raw almost cruel in the way he talked and interacted with people. Peter, in the other hand, was kind, soft and a source of comfort and joy to all around him. His sincere smile brighten a room each time he came inside.
The trip to the building was short. There was not much traffic to keep the taxi from advancing at a steady pace. Peter begun to feel anxious for the meeting. A long time for a much desired reunion between the two of them.
He planned to surprise his father. He kept secret about his return. Even in the train he managed to muffled the sounds from the journey when his father called him to check on him.
“This is going to be great.” He said in a whisper with the biggest smile on his face. Inside his hearth was thumping fast. Excitement, longing, urge... But there was more. Something Peter couldn’t put his finger on. Something deeper. He needed his father touch. He always did.
The taxi stopped near the huge building. A 50 floors building with the penthouse he called home. The anticipation was building up. A crescendo of emotions tighten the young man heart.
He paid the driver and rushed to elevator that would take him to his home. In the digital panel he pressed the code to access the penthouse. The soft humming and music in the elevator box did nothing to his nerves as the moment of the long wanted reunion come close.
As Peter entered the penthouse he remain silent, heading to the broad living room, knowing that, at this time of day, his father would most likely be there, relaxing from another day of work.
But, instead of sounds of TV or music, Peter’s ears captured something different. Something out of place.
From the semi-open door sounds of flesh against flesh is heard. Whining and panting came from inside. The distinct rough voice of his father is heard in harsh breaths.
“Yes... Take it bitch” the voice said
“Shut the fuck up! Fuck... That is tight” growled again
Peter approached slowly opening frightfully the wooden door into the living room.
From inside a clear and distinctive mix of smells assaulted his nostrils. Sweat, cum and ass. All mix in a heavy and moist cloud that caused him to flinch.
As he sneaked inside the room his heart skipped a beat.
Inside a young twink, 18 years old, was on his knees on the coffee table in the centre of the room. His face was red, tears rolling down his face and mouth open wide as a weak moan escaped from it. One of Paul's feet kept the boy head pinned to the table making him impossible to escaped the grip. Powerful thrusts made the boy rock back and forth as he was held in place by two powerful hands by the hips.
Behind him... Paul, assaulting the twink body with a vicious force. His face transfigured in a demon of lust and desire. Sweat pouring from his face and body dripped over the small figure in front of him, mixing with the boy’s own sweat. Face red and mouth in a cruel grin. His naked muscular body covered in sweat, making his body hair stick to his skin.
The assault was brutal, primal. No kindness, no pity.
“Please... Please... Stop...I need to rest” the twink plead through sharp moans. Tears kept rolling down the boy face has the tried, desperately, to grab the edge of the table with both hands and escape the brutal attack.
Paul was deaf to the supplication of the young man. The words were nothing more than fuel for his lust, burying in each thrust his massive dick of 9 inches into that small body. In each motion, the massive tool was removed and fed to the boys ass in one go. Cum and anal fluids were oozing from the boy open ass hole and dripping between his legs, as Paul’s balls keep bouncing at the rhythm of each thrust. The slurping sounds of the suction make by the massive cock pumping the twink hole were mixed with the slaps his pelvis did on the boys ass cheeks.
Peter froze in place. The smell, the sound and the sight glued his feet to the ground. His eyes wide open and his mouth gapped in a silent word that was caught in his throat.
Paul howls has he deposits another load inside the boys ass. “FUUUUUCKK”
The twink widen his eyes as Paul’s cock go all the way into that frail body.
Paul was panting hard has he let go of the boy that falls to the table as a rag dolls.
“Dad? DAD!!!” finally Peter manage to scream, in a expression mixed of horror, disbelief and fear as his throat finally allows the air to exit.
Paul looks at his son. His face transfigures in panic. Eyes widen as he realises that his son saw this all scene. “P-P-Peter... What are you doing... How... Fuck”. Desperation took his voice away. His son saw that.
Finally Peter moves going to the boy and helping him to stand. His eyes never leave his father. In Peter’s face a expression of disbelieve and hurt.
“Are you ok? Can you walk?” Peter ask the young one that grabbed Peters arms like it was grabbing a life boat.
“Y-y-yes... I think so” the boy said trembling.
“Here. I will help you. You need a shower. Let me take you to the bathroom” Peter said as he help the frail figure walk to the bathroom near his bedroom. After leaving the young boy inside he returns to his father.
When he returns Paul had his pants on. His face was buried in his hands trying to escape the gaze of his son.
In the floor of the living room there are some clothes. Peter’s eyes open wide as he realizes. It were his clothes, soiled with sweat and cum.
Nothing was said as he sits across the older man. His eyes fixed on Paul. The silence was thick, deep, like all sounds were drained from the house. Peter could hear the thumping of his heart echoing in his ears.
Paul can see the disappointment in Peters eyes and that was killing him. His stomach turning as his son’s gaze scout him with disdain.
As the young guy finish his shower, he returns to the living room. A weak voice is heard behind Peter.
“I am going now...” said the boy looking at Peter. He nodded and, with his eyes, followed the boy as he grabs some money in a counter and leaves the penthouse.
When his gaze meets his father tears are forming in his eyes. All the admiration, trust, dedication to that man, broken.
“What was that, dad? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, DAD?” He screamed as tears roll down his face.
Peter heart tightens in physical pain and sadness. But there is more. A more insidious feeling is crawling its way out. Something Peter never thought he would feel for his father. Deep down he feels betrayal. Paul was his.
Paul has his eyes still on the floor next to him. “Son... Please... I am sorry...” he says, his voice trembling while he struggle to prevent his tears from falling.
“Who is he... Why is he here and why are pieces of my clothes scattered on the ground?” asked Peter with is voice clouded with sadness.
Paul looks to the clothes in a pile and to Peter’s eyes... “Sorry... oh God... Sorry”. Those are the only words that comes out of Paul lips.
Peter stands and start to walk, trying to leave to his room. Paul covers the short distance from where he is, in a jump, grabbing Peter wrist tightly, forcing the boy to look at him.
As Peter turns, he stays face to face with his father... The man he always adored, the man he always trusted. Their faces so close they can feel each other breaths. Peter can smell the lingering scent of sweat and sex present in Paul naked torso. For some reason his body reacts to that smell, that touch. His cock becoming stiff, pushing the fabric of his pants. His 8 inches manhood becomes painfully present, revealing for all to see that there was more than just a sons love in there.
The older hung looked at Peter with pleading eyes.
“Please son... Forgive me... Please. You don’t know how much you mean to me. You are everything. I can’t afford to lose you. Not like this... Not because of this” Paul said as he lean to rest his forehead on Peter shoulder.
Peter stood there dumbfounded by the whole situation. His body reacting in a strange way. Different from all of the times it did around his father.
“Dad... Why? And why my clothes?” Peter asked, knowing upfront the answer to the question that left his mouth.
Paul raised his head from Peter’s shoulder and lock his eyes on his son’s eyes.
“I can’t take you of my mind. I can’t stop thinking of you. Every second of every day you are always inside my mind. Your face, your body, your smell, the way you talk, even the dimples you make in your cheeks when you smile. I tried to fight it for so long. I can’t fight it anymore”
Paul voice was lower, almost like a whisper. He spoke to Peter the same way that lovers speak between them. His eyes filled with love and regret. Love for the boy he raised. The boy Peter was. The man Peter become. Regret for wanting him so badly to the point of renting boys and dressed them as his son does.
The conflicting mind of Peter was a turmoil of emotions. Love for the man in front of him, desire for a body that, in his mind, was forbidden to him, hurt for what he just witnessed as he returned home and betrayal because he couldn’t believe his father was fucking another boy. Then from inside, like crawling form a dark cave inside his chest, an even darker emotion emerged. Jealousy. The green monster was present and was clinging to Peter heart like a leech.
That is when, without even thinking on how or why, in a moment of complete mental haze Peters lips are pressing his father’s lips. He brakes all boundaries broken, all lines crossed. The kiss is hard, hurtful, filled with desire and passion.
In that kiss Peter puts all his wanting. All the longing and wait for this moment. His tongue entering his father mouth, craving every corner of that man, tasting every bit of him. His hands grabbing his sweaty back digging his nails into his father skin. Paul hiss in lust and pain.
“Fuck me... Fuck me now.” Peter demanded in a muffled voice into his father mouth. His longing could be heard in the plead.
“Son... I... That may hurt you... I don’t want... I could never...” Paul answers as his arms embrace his son tightly. His hands sliding into the boy’s pants grabbing his perfectly round ass cheeks.
Peter’s hands unbuttoning his father pants, grabbing the huge piece of meat still coated with his cum and the other boys ass juices.
“Oh...baby! Fuck” muttered Paul as Peter stroke the full length of his meat, using the cum as lube to rub the helmet head of his dad shaft.
“Dad, don’t talk... Fuck me!”. The demanding tone of Peter broke the resistance of Paul. The hung grabbed the boy, lifting him by his armpits, as Peter envelops his father waist with his legs.
Paul carries the jock to the sofa, depositing him on his back as he continue to kiss his mouth passionately. In a swift movement he dispose of the boy lower garment exposing the hard cock and beautiful pick hole between the hard mounts of flesh.
That was more than enough for Paul grab Peter’s legs and turned then making the young man’s ass stick up in the air. With his hands he expose the pink smooth pucker.
“So beautiful.” Paul growls as he kisses around the entrance of his son. His tongue licking and darting the smooth entrance causing shivers in the boy.
“FUUUCKKK”. Peter scream in a pillow trying to muffle the sounds his mouth is producing while his dad keeps slurping and sucking his most sensitive area. He continues licking getting the all area covered in spit and well moist for what was about to come.
Paul puts a finger on Peter’s mouth as the boy suck it and cover it with saliva.
“Baby... Take a deep breath... Ok?” Paul asks as he massage the young man pucker. Slowly he pushes his index finger him, causing the boy to flinch and contract de still virgin hole.
“Relax... Breath... In and out... Come on baby... Let daddy in” says Paul as he push the fingers slowly while with his free hand he rubs Peter lower back, reassuring him.
“AAAAHHHH... Fuck dad... Damm” Peter roar to the pillow feeling the intrusion of his father digit as he tries to lose the boy up.
“Relax baby... Come on... Let me in...” Paul insisted... Slowly without forcing his way in. His voice calmed, filled with love and tender.
And there he was. The same voice Peter always heard in his live. The voice that carried him to bed and to sleep. The voice he loved and always gave him shivers. E cave to that voice... And surrenders to the touch.
Paul, patiently, works his finger him, turning and moving it in and out, searching for that sweet spot that , he knows, Peter will succumb. As soon he founds Peters body react immediately letting out a loud gasp.
“That’s it baby boy... Open up for dad...” Paul taunted his son making him squirm in pleasure and pain.
Paul joins two fingers now... Taking his time making sure Peter is well open and relaxed.
The young men writhes and twitches under his father expert touch, until Paul hits his prostate causing his head to shoot back in a gasp of pleasure.
Paul takes off his pants and position himself behind the boy. The cock head rubs Peter’s entrance using the pre-cum as lubricant to prepare for penetration.
“Baby boy, you need to breath. This may hurt a bit. Just relax.” Paul says as he rubs his sons back trying to smooth the upcoming event.
He grabs hold of Peter hip with one hand while he holds his cock with another. He push the head in slowly, with care and love allowing the boy to adjust to his girth.
“AAAAAHHHHH... FFUUUUUCCKKKK DAD. SLOW... PLEASE” the young one plead panting hard as his virgin hole is pierced for the very first time, clenching his sphincter muscles involuntarily.
“Yes baby... Just breath... Come on... Let me him..” Paul says keeping his grip tight on the young one hip. In a rapid movement he slaps the left ass cheek of Peter. The shock and sharp pain distracts the boy allowing the father to enter 4 inches at once.
“FUUCCKKK BABY. Your tight...” Paul says in a hissed voice.
Peter tries his best to take the monster that is entering his virgin ass. His hands are clenching to the couch as he bites the pillow letting a soft moan of pleasure and pain.
Paul stays still... Enjoying the warmth that the meat sheath offers to him. His dick stretching he virgin hole to its new limit. As soon as Peter relaxes he begins to move in a slow, languid pace, savouring every bit of his son ass.
“Oh... Fuck... You are tight baby boy... I... I don’t know if I can... Fuck baby” Paul growls to the young stud that squirms under his expert moves. Every motion is precise, slow, deliberate causing Peter to relax and gasp in short breaths.
To Peter the world ceased to exist. The only thing he can feel is his father massive tool making way inside him, loosening him beyond what he thought was possible.
His father was touching a spot inside, causing a huge amount of pre-cum to leak from his cock like a faucet.
“FUCK... DAD... MY FUCKING CHRIST” screamed Peter as Paul continue massaging his prostate with his cock.
Paul becomes more eager hearing the boy screams.
“Yes baby boy... Yes... That’s it...open for daddy. Daddy is here baby boy.” Says Paul as he continue to feed inch by inch his manhood inside his son warm hole...
Peter is lost in his own world. A world full of lust, love, passion and wanting. His breaths come in sharp gasps to the rhythm of Paul pace. The pleasure is overwhelming.
“Dad... I can’t... hold on... Much more.... Fuck” Peter says sensing his impending orgasm building inside.
His head shoots back as his cock shoots rope after rope of thick cum on the couch beneath him. He cum without even once touching his cock. His sphincter muscles contract to the pace of the shooting
In a last push, Paul feeds the rest of his dick inside the young man shooting his seed deep in Peters ass, coating his insides with thick and warm jizz.
He collapses on top of his son, fighting to catch his breath, burying his face on his son hair.
They stay like this what it seems to be hours, lingering in the afterglow of their orgasm.
More than father and son. More than lovers. In that embrace that was taking them from the highs of their orgasm a new reality was revealing to them.
They were always in love with each other. Each in his own way
And that was THE HARD TRUE
