Bill aka Storyguy

Discovering My Father's Secret

Chapter 1

Mom and Dad had gotten divorced three years earlier, although the reasons were never discussed with me. I was an only-child, so there were no siblings with whom I could wallow in self-pity and speculation about what broke them up. My parents gave every appearance of remaining friendly with each other, and I got to see Dad on occasional weekends and for a week each summer when he was on vacation from his job at a major bank. The only good part of the divorce was that Dad almost immediately was transferred (I'm pretty sure at his request) to be the manager of a branch-bank at Rehoboth Beach. It's one of the resort towns along the Atlantic Ocean where people from our area have vacationed for generations. It wasn't Ocean City, the bigger and more exciting beach town 25 miles [40 km] to the south, but it was still a great place for a kid my age to stay for a week. Dad lived in a small two-story cottage that was just a couple blocks from the wide sandy beach and the town's mile-long boardwalk.

Unlike my previous stays at his house, this time Dad would be at his job during the daytime. At age 14, I was deemed old enough to be on my own during the day. Both my parents made a point of warning me about 'strangers' who might be acting 'too friendly'. And I already knew that I wasn't allowed to go by myself into the concrete bunker of a building next to the boardwalk that contained toilets, showers, and a changing area. My parents didn't elaborate on the reasons for these cautions, but I was knowledgeable enough about sex to understand. In fact, a few months before, a man had offered me money ($20!) to go with him in his car so he could suck my cock. I reflexively turned him down, but for weeks afterward I filled my prolific masturbation sessions with thoughts of what it would have been like if I'd gone with him.

My sex education had been reasonably complete for a middle-class boy of that era. Even though I was rather shy with others my age and didn't have a best friend, I had been included in the pubescent sex-play of several neighborhood boys around my age. At 12, I was happily joining in their strip-poker games, the feel-up sessions of each others' developing boners, and (most excitingly) some brief and tentative cock-sucking, done on a dare or as the penalty for losing a bet or challenge. A few times we even took turns having our bare bottoms spanked while the others watched. I wasn't spanked at home, so this was as much of a new experience for me as the sex. By the time I was 13, the other guys were getting skittish about doing 'queer stuff', so the feel-ups and cock-sucking ended. But it didn't stop us from having group jack-off sessions with a stack of Playboy magazines that one of the guys had discovered stashed behind his father's work bench. Although I joined in with the group's endless speculation about what it would be like to fuck a pussy or get a blow-job from one of the voluptuous Playboy models, I found myself paying as much attention to my friends' cocks and stroking hands as I did to Miss October's breasts and airbrushed crotch. Alone in my own room, my solo-sex practices sometimes included thoughts of heterosexual sex, but mostly I fantasized about taboo gay-male sex. As I jacked my cock toward a glorious orgasm, amid fantasies of sex with a boy or man, I sometimes sucked on my finger or thumb pretending it was a cock, or slid a finger or two inside my asshole.

The first day on my own at Dad's house involved sleeping late, eating two bowls of sugar cereal, and spending a couple hours hanging out on the beach. I kept thinking I should make friends with some of the kids my age who were on the beach with their families, but it felt awkward to approach any of them. But that didn't keep me from ogling the parade of barely-clothed bodies of both sexes.

Around 1:00, with the sun beginning to my pale skin pink, I went back to the house and hopped right into the shower to rinse off the salt and sand. As usual, I stroked myself to a boner with my soapy hand. But before continuing on to a quick orgasm, the thought struck me that Dad might have some Playboys stashed away somewhere, which would make for a more leisurely and erotic masturbation session.

After drying off, I didn't even get dressed before setting out naked in search of the hoped-for secret porn stash. His bedroom turned up nothing, but the desk in his small downstairs study had a bottom drawer that was locked, just crying out for me to snoop further. The key was ridiculously easy to find in one of the other drawers. As I opened the mystery-drawer, I found no Playboys. Instead, there was something MUCH better – books. The thickest one was an anthology of erotica… pornography with artistic pretentions. Paging through it, I found short-stories and excerpts of books from a variety of eras – descriptions of wild torture-sex orgies from the deranged mind of the Marquis de Sade, the florid prose of Victorian porn-writers, the French BDSM classic Story of O, a dream-like account of drug addled Americans and Brits having sex with young Moroccan boys in 1950s Tangiers. Although most of the chapters featured heterosexual activity, a generous portion depicted activities of the gay-male persuasion.

Setting the anthology aside, I turned to the two much-thinner and definitely less-literary books that were pushed farther back in the drawer, and my eyes bulged at the scenes depicted on their covers. One of the pulp-porn novels was titled (as I recall) Biker Studs. The art-work on the cover showed two ultra-masculine men with the muscles of a Mr. Universe contestant, shirtless and wearing impossibly skin-tight leather jeans. One biker – older and hairier – had his zipper down, with the barely-contained bulge of a massive cock ready to spring out. The younger one, with a smooth torso of finely etched muscles, was on his knees with his mouth open hungrily, clearly ready to devour the other's monster erection.

The second slender porn-book was titled something like Boarding School Master, and the cover was even more startling. It showed a boy about my age bending over a teacher's desk, looking back over his shoulder with a distressed look on his face. His trousers and underpants were pulled down to his knees and his shirt was hiked up. Standing behind and to the side was a teacher in a British-style academic gown, holding a slender cane and preparing to bring it down on the schoolboy's shapely butt.

As I glanced quickly through the books, my penis was achingly stiff, begging to be stroked. My heart was racing, and my brain was struggling to process what my eyes were taking in. There was no doubt that I was totally excited about the prospect of masturbating to incredible descriptions of hot gay sex and discipline. But I was also thinking 'Holy shit! Does this mean that Dad jerks off to stories about guys having sex? And being spanked?'

Speculation about my father's sexual proclivities was temporarily banished as I took all three books up to my bedroom and began reading and stroking.

I started with the boarding school book, finding that it was composed almost entirely of 'good parts' – amazingly explicit descriptions of gay sex and sexualized spankings, joined together with a minimum of plot. I still half-remember the basic premise. The main character was a sensitive new teacher, a boy-lover whose romantic feelings for beautiful younger boys was manifested in tender kisses and loving mutual blow-jobs… but who also had a compulsion for being sexually submissive to rough-trade older students. An older teacher seemed to spend all his time caning and then sexually abusing every boy who came into his grasp. Students of all ages and proclivities – naïve beginners, aggressive tops, and slutty bottoms – were having nearly constant boy-on-boy sex in the dormitory.

I had been getting pretty good at prolonging my masturbation sessions in recent months, but I orgasmed twice while reading the book. And I couldn't help visualizing Dad masturbating while he read these same words, an image that excited me for some reason. Did he identify with the teachers or with the boys? Ever since the spanking play with my neighborhood friends a couple years before, I had fantasized about it frequently, and now found it incredibly erotic to imagine myself as one of the students in the book, being punished and then used sexually.

The book about the muscle-bound bikers was raw and gritty in its imagined depictions of sex in the 'leather men' gay subgroup. Enormous cocks were always pounding assholes and face-fucking deep throats, and the bikers seemed to spend far more time in steamy gay-sex orgies than riding their motorcycles. A young candidate for membership in the gang had to go through a lengthy sadomasochistic ritual for his initiation (in which I learned the meaning of the term 'golden shower'). And in another part of the story an evil rival gang captured one of the 'good' gang's members, securing him to elaborate bondage equipment, thrashing him with belts and whips and paddles, gang-raping his mouth and ass. It was a short book, with large type, but I was mentally and sexually exhausted by the time I finished.

I was just getting into a promising part of the 'literary' anthology – a short-story about a boy-brothel in Berlin during the 1920s – when I heard the front door open downstairs.

"Hey Bill!" my father called out. "Are you home?"

ACK! I stuffed the books under my mattress and grabbed my clothes. "I'm in my bedroom, but I'll be right down," I called out as I dressed.

As I hurried down to meet him, hoping my face didn't show the guilt and embarrassment I was feeling, Dad was in the kitchen fixing his after-work drink – a generous shot of bourbon on ice.

We engaged in some small-talk about how the day went. It was only 4:30, but Dad's bank branch kept 'banker's hours' (naturally) and was only a 3-minute drive back to the house.

"Some of the young gals at work were talking about a free rock and roll concert down in Ocean City tonight. Want to go?"

"Sure!" I said, quickly putting the books out of my thoughts.

"Let me change my clothes, and we can get down there early and grab some dinner before the concert."

In a few minutes, we were driving south on the Coast Highway. In 40 minutes we were seated in our favorite seafood restaurant in Ocean City. The concert on the beach featured a local cover- band playing British Invasion tunes, surf music, and American garage-rock. They were followed by another local band composed of black singers and white musicians covering Motown and Memphis soul music. Both bands were good and there were lots high school and college kids dancing in the sand. Even Dad, whose musical taste was pretty well confined to mellow lounge-jazz, enjoyed it. Maybe it was my imagination, but he seemed to be furtively ogling hot-looking teenage boys – the same ones who caught my eye.

Afterwards, Dad and I walked down to the amusement park at the end of the boardwalk, and he gave me money for every arcade game and thrill ride that drew my interest.

When we finally got back to Rehoboth it was after 11:00, and I had dozed off in the car. I went right to bed, not even remembering the books under my mattress. But it turned out they weren't forgotten by Dad.

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK

"Wah…?"

"Bill; you need to wake up."

"OK," I mumbled groggily, "but why…"

"Get dressed and meet me down in the study."

I instantly came wide awake. "Oh, shit! The books!"

I had been sleeping in my white briefs, and I quickly threw on a tee shirt and cut-off jeans. The whole time, I was muttering curses to myself about how stupid I had been for not putting the books back before Dad got home from work.

When I entered the small study, Dad was standing there waiting for me. On his desk were bottle of bourbon whiskey and a glass of ice from which he had already consumed a nightcap.

"You've been snooping in my personal things, haven't you?"

Dad wasn't loud or visibly angry; he didn't need to be. I could read the anger and disappointment beneath his calm exterior.

"Huh? I don't know what you…"

"Stop, Bill. Don't make this any worse by lying. You left the drawer unlocked and half-open, for gosh sakes."

My face was burning with shame, and I stared down at my feet.

"I think you'll need to go home in the morning, Bill."

I looked up at him with surprise. "No! Please! Let me stay! I'm really sorry I snooped, but I want to stay real bad. Isn't there any other way to punish me?" There were a few moments of silence, and then the words came out of my mouth, bypassing any conscious thought. "You could spank me."

My father looked at me for a moment and raised an eyebrow.

Then I added in a quiet voice, feeling my face flush even hotter, "with my underpants pulled down."

Now it was Dad's turn to be flustered. He turned his back and went over to his desk, pouring some more bourbon into his glass. The ice cubes rattled from his shaking hand as he took a gulp.

"Alright, Billy." I hadn't gone by 'Billy' for several years, and it made me feel like an 11-year-old again. "Perhaps a good spanking will be punishment enough." His voice was still calm, but the undercurrent of nervous excitement was evident in his body language. He polished off the whiskey in his glass, pulled the desk chair around to face the center of the room, and sat down.

"Stand here," he said, pointing to a spot on the floor beside his right knee.

"Undo your jeans and pull them down." His voice strained to sound normal. "Now pull your shirt up to your chest."

I stood before him with my cut-off jeans at my ankles and my lower torso exposed. I looked down at my underpants, at the bulge my dick made in the front. My brain bubbled with a combination of excitement and embarrassment as Dad reached out and hooked his fingers into the waistband of my briefs at both hips. He lowered them slowly, first exposing the sparse little collection of pubic hairs, then the base of my dick. A moment later, my youthful cock sprang free, already half-hard and in the process of pulsing the rest of the way toward erection.

I heard Dad's sharp intake of breath and saw the desire flashing in his eyes. It was totally obvious that he was aroused by the sight of my stiffening cock.

Time seemed to stop as both of us watched my penis arc upward to its maximum stiffness. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I knew instinctively that Dad's was too. My boner wasn't all that big – a slender 5 inches [12½ cm], circumcised, and nicely shaped.

I tried to remember the last time my father had seen me naked. And then it hit me… deeply-stored half-memories bursting into my consciousness… fuzzy recollections of Dad taking me to the bathroom and standing behind me as I peed into the toilet. I had been a bed-wetter until I was 11, and sometimes Dad got me up at night to pee. I was almost always half-asleep when it happened, but now I was remembering the feeling of Dad's hand on my penis as I stood at the toilet with my underpants pulled down to mid-thigh… and him fondling my bare butt and manipulating my boyish dick to stiffness for a brief time after the pee had stopped flowing.

After what seemed like minutes (but was probably less than 30 seconds) Dad guided me across his lap. My boner pressed into his right thigh as my butt stuck up, fully exposed. The spanking didn't start right away. Instead I could feel my father's right hand caressing my butt cheeks, and I heard him breathing deeply. Then, SLAP! The hand rose and came down sharply. But again it lingered to feel the smooth skin of my buttocks. Then, SLAP!… SLAP!… SLAP!… SLAP! A steady stream of hard spanks, spaced a few seconds apart. It didn't last very long; maybe 25 whacks in all. The blows stung, to be sure, but they weren't nearly as painful as I imagined they would be. In fact, their primary effect – like when my friends and I had done play-spanking – was to make my stiff penis throb even more intensely with arousal. I suspected Dad wasn't going at full-strength, but I didn't know for sure.

After the last spank, Dad's hand lingered once more, feeling my warm (and no-doubt reddened) butt cheeks. His fingertips slid along the valley separating the two sides and gently probed it, briefly massaging the tender flesh around my anus. But he quickly pulled his hand away as if his fingers had been burned, and he helped me to my feet. As I stood facing him, my first instinct was to cover my genitals and quickly get dressed, but I didn't. I reached back with both hands to rub my sore bottom and looked down at my totally stiff penis, watching as it tried to pulse even more erect. Then I glanced up at my father and saw how his eyes were glued to my cock. He was breathing raggedly as if out of breath, and his hand adjusted the obvious erection inside his Bermuda shorts.

For some reason, I wasn't at all surprised by what happened next. Dad reached out cautiously and wrapped his hand around my throbbing cock. The ecstatic look on his face, as he wordlessly began masturbating me, is burned permanently into my memory.

"Oh, Billy!" he said, almost in a whisper.

"It feels so good, Daddy, when you play with my penis." I hadn't meant to sound like I was 11 years old, using the word 'penis' instead of a slang term, and calling my father 'Daddy'… just as I had done three years ago, when he was still taking me to the bathroom late at night. But it came out that way, and served to elevate our mutual lust.

As he continued to gently masturbate me, he slid off the chair and onto his knees in front of me, his eyes fixed on the youthful erection, only inches from his face, as if he were hypnotized. His free hand slid inside his pants, groping his own cock.

"Suck me, Daddy. Suck my penis."

I can't believe I said that! It was totally out of character for me to be either bold or slutty. But it was equally out of character for my Dad, who had always seemed level-headed and proper, to be such a captive of incestuous homoerotic desire. It was obvious that he wanted to take my cock in his mouth, and I was just giving him permission.

"Oh, yes Billy… yes!"

See! I knew it! But what took me by surprise was that my father was such an incredibly talented cock-sucker. Compared to the amateurish oral play with my neighborhood buddies a year or so before, this was so much more intense that it might as well have gone by a different name.

He didn't waste time on preliminaries as he immediately took my cock-head in his mouth, slathering it with his tongue. His lips and tongue then slid smoothly down my boner, his cheeks suctioning to magnify the sensations. And when he pressed his lips all the way down into the scattered hairs at the base of my dick, he took my cock-head effortlessly into his throat. I couldn't help but groan out loud, and I wanted my father to keeping doing it again and again.

"You're making my penis feel so good, Daddy! Suck it! Suck my penis, Daddy! Suck it, Daddy!"

This time it was clear – to me at least – that I was intentionally role-playing, being a little boy again for him. I knew it was manipulative, but it just felt right. And I could tell that hearing it was ramping up Dad's lust to a fever pitch.

I looked down at his bobbing head, twisting from side to side as his mouth rode my boner. And then I looked farther down, seeing his hand stroking his cock, which he had freed from his shorts and underwear.

I knew I wasn't going to last long, considering the intensity with which Dad was sucking me. I had been totally primed even before Dad began sucking my cock. My hands went to Dad's balding head and my hips began thrusting. I was face-fucking my own father… and he loved it!

"I'm gonna squirt! Here it cums, Daddy!"

My orgasm crashed through my body with a force I had never before experienced. I steadied my hands on Dad's shoulders so my legs wouldn't collapse under me. But he kept sucking, slurping down even drop of my semen before finally releasing my cock and sitting back on his haunches.

He looked up at me with an expression that began as joyful, but then changed to anxious and guilty. Standing up, he began to tell me something. "Bill… we shouldn't have… it was my fault… we can't…"

But I wrapped my arms around him in a hug and said "It was wonderful, Dad. I wanted it too!" And then, for the first time in my life, I kissed him on the lips. He kissed me back, hard. I'd never french-kissed anyone before (though I certainly knew all about it), but when our lips crushed together, and his tongue merged with mine, it seemed totally natural. When the kiss broke, I pulled off my tee-shirt and was now completely naked. Dad had already stepped out of his shorts and underwear, and he followed my lead in stripping off his shirt.

Dad was a little less than average height – about the same as me at that time – and had a wiry slender build. He actually looked a bit scrawny, but he'd been in the Marines in World War 2, so I knew he was tough. Looking down at his stiff cock, it was clear that I had inherited my father's penis. He had more pubic hair (though it seemed to be trimmed short) and his balls dangled lower, but his erection was just like mine – 5 inches [12½ cm] of smooth and nicely shaped cut cock. My hand reached out, and I took hold of Dad's dick, excited to feel the power of its hot throbbing stiffness.

"You like that Daddy?" I asked seductively as I stroked his rigid boner. "Want to do some more stuff together?"

"Yes, Bill. I do," he murmured hesitantly. "But maybe we shouldn't."

"Want me to suck your cock?"

"Ohhhhhhh God! Yes!"

So much for Dad's brief attack of guilt and regret. It was now rather clear that my sensible, intelligent, conservative father was as much a slave to his sexual compulsions as I was. And, most interestingly, our sexual compulsions seemed to match perfectly. Was he susceptible to being seduced into any sexual activity I might propose? I certainly aimed to find out. Maybe we could even do some of the things I had learned about while reading Dad's porn books.

"Let's go upstairs and get on your bed," I said.

I was still holding his rigidly erect penis, and I used it like a leash to lead him to the staircase. He followed without resistance.

This was going to be good!

Chapter 2

We were quiet for a time, as I slowly pleasured him. I could only imagine the thoughts that were swirling through his mind. Was he embarrassed at the way his sexuality had been suddenly revealed to his only child? Perhaps he was also feeling relief that he'd finally shared his secret with me. He was certainly experiencing sexual arousal, as my hand slid smoothly along his stiff penis. And he had to be feeling an alcohol buzz from his rapid consumption of a couple glasses of bourbon.

"Dad?" I said at last as I lifted my head to look into his face. At the same moment, I stopped masturbating him.

"Yes, Bill?" His eyes met mine.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Dad didn't answer immediately. Then he said, "Bill; I guess I owe you the truth. I'll answer any question you have about my life. Considering what you've already learned, I might as well be honest with you about the whole story."

"I can ask ANY question?"

"Yes. But understand that this is just between the two of us. You can't tell anyone else."

"I know, Dad." Now it was my turn to pause, as I considered which should be the first among the many questions that coursed through my brain. "So Dad; are you a… a homo?"

"A homosexual?" he replied, correcting my terminology.

"Yeah. Homosexual."

"The honest answer is that I'm primarily homosexual. It isn't easy to fit people into all-or-nothing categories. I love your mother and I fathered you, so I am not completely homosexual. But I have known for quite a while that I couldn't go through my life denying my true sexual nature, which is a preference for having sex with men. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah; it definitely does," I replied. "In fact, I guess I feel the same way. I like girls ok, but when I think about sex it's usually about doing stuff with guys." Another question was on my lips immediately. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No, Bill. The culture we live in doesn't allow a businessman like me to be open about this. It would be far too risky to have a companion like that. But there's a surprising number of homosexuals living here in Rehoboth Beach… either year-round or vacationing here. I have some friends that I get together with occasionally, and other men that I just see once."

My mind immediately pictured lurid images involving my father having sex with other men. "You know those books of yours?"

"The ones you found by snooping in the locked drawer of my desk? You weren't supposed to see those."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I snooped. But I'm not sorry I read them. They were really amazing! So do you actually do sex stuff like the guys in the books were doing? Like in the book about the motorcycle gang?"

"Books like that exaggerate things a lot," he said. "But I…"

I waited for the next part. "Yeah?"

"I said I'd be honest in answering your questions, and I will be. But you can't share this with anyone else. Understand?"

"Yes, Dad. I'll always keep it secret."

"I've done some things – and still do them – that aren't all that different from some of the descriptions in that book. Things that are kind of embarrassing for me to admit out-loud. Are you sure you want me to go there? You might think I'm…"

"I think you're awesome Dad! Reading those books of yours, I discovered that the stuff in my head – my sex fantasies – are things that guys actually do. It really makes me feel good that you and me are so much alike!" I kissed him, and my hand returned to his still-erect penis, holding it but not stroking. Proceeding with my questions, I asked: "Do you do… you know, fucking?" I knew that he sucked cock, because he'd just finished sucking mine with remarkable skill only minutes before.

"Yes," he replied.

"Are you a top or a bottom?" I had learned all sorts of things about hard-core gay sexuality from reading his porn books. Dad's eyebrows rose up a bit, but he again answered me. I even detected a slight smile on his lips as he spoke.

"Sometimes top, but I prefer being a bottom."

I knew the next question would be a bombshell, but I couldn't resist. "Have you ever had a bunch of guys fuck you, one after the other? You know; a gang-bang, like in the book?"

He said nothing, but his face blushed, so I already had my answer. I eagerly asked the follow-up question.

"What's the most guys who ever fucked you in one session?" I began to masturbate him again, slowly and gently. A shiver ran through his body. "You can tell me!" I said in a soft but insistent voice, as my hand quickened its masturbating strokes.

Dad let out a sigh as his body writhed slightly with building sexual tension. "Billy, I know I said I'd answer your questions, but…"

I quickly repositioned myself so I was kneeling between Dad's spread-apart legs. One of my hands was masturbating his cock even more intensely while the other gently squeezed his balls. "Tell me about your wildest experience of getting fucked by a bunch of guys," I said boldly. "Describe it to me, Daddy, and I'll suck your cock."

I don't know what got into me, being so boldly manipulative, but it sure was exciting! And he was calling me 'Billy' again while I was calling him 'Daddy', just like in the role-playing we had been doing earlier. This was totally arousing for me, and I could tell that it was for him as well.

My face dipped down to his crotch, and I took the head of my father's cock into my mouth. My tongue explored the warm soft flesh, toying with the sensitive ridge of his glans, as my lips slid lower onto the shaft. It was the first time I'd had a cock in my mouth in over a year, since I was 13 and fooling around with friends in the neighborhood. Like I said before, Dad's cock was about the same size as mine was – 5 inches [12½ cm] and kind of slender – so it was similar to sucking off one of my friends. The sensations I'd fantasized about – the feel of a cock in my mouth; the taste; the scent – came rushing back as I worked my mouth on his rigid erection. I tried to remember everything Dad had done when he gave me such an incredible blow-job. But first I lifted my mouth off his cock and said again: "Come on, Daddy; tell me about your gang-bang!"

Dad started describing his first trip to a gay sex-club in New York City, two years previously. The story began slowly and cautiously, but soon the words began tumbling out in a breathless narrative as he described details that had probably played out in his thoughts during his masturbation sessions. The degree of salacious detail that he shared made it clear that he was now getting a sexual thrill from telling me. And it was certainly a turn-on for me too, as I listened eagerly while giving him oral pleasure.

He told me how had taken a late train up to Manhattan, traveling with one of his more-experienced Rehoboth friends, named Pete. They had gone directly to an anonymous-looking building on the West Side that housed an infamous bathhouse. After paying an admission fee at the door, and getting a towel and the key to a locker, my Dad stripped naked and stashed away his clothing. His friend also stripped, but put on a black jock-strap as a recognized badge of his dominant sexual nature. With towels around their waists, they made their way through a dimly-lit maze of hallways. They walked past cubicles, some with closed doors but others openly displaying the fucking and sucking going on inside. They continued past a steamy bathing pool, in which naked men lounged in pairs and trios, their bodies rubbing, hands fondling, and tongues kissing.

Finally they came to their destination – the club's 'dungeon'. Fully naked subs mingled with jockstrap-clad doms in a room that contained an assortment of BDSM fixtures and equipment. Dad and Pete removed their towels but didn't immediately join in the action. For a few minutes they joined the masturbating voyeurs in the shadows, observing the intense sexual activity being played out by the more adventurous men. One of the subs was on his knees, alternately sucking two doms who had pulled the pouches of their jockstraps aside to release their stiff cocks. Another naked sub, wearing an eye-covering leather hood with a breathing vent at his nose and a circular opening at his mouth, was strapped face-down to an X-shaped horizontal rack. He was getting whipped by hairy bear of a man while another fucked his cock into the sub's mouth through the hole in the leather mask, and several more stroked their cocks as they waited their turns to be sucked. A man lay on his back in an old-fashioned bathtub, and men relieved their bladders on his naked body and into his open mouth as he masturbated his piss-lubricated cock. A group of men crowded into a faux prison cell, one of them face-down on a narrow cot, his wrists and ankles strapped to its frame, taking a succession of cocks into his ass in a mock prison gang-rape.

The erotic environment was perfectly designed to set off my father's submissive sexual desires… as well as his friend Pete's dominant inclination. A sling that hung from the ceiling wasn't being used, so Pete invited my dad to use it. Dad positioned himself on the contraption, face-up and ready to be fucked. His whole body was supported, except for his head. He craned his neck up to watch as Pete pulled his jock half-way down his thighs, reached into a bucket of lube to slather onto his stiff cock, and positioned himself between Dad's wide-spread legs. Once his cock had penetrated Dad's asshole, Pete needed only to pull and push on the sturdy chains that held the sling, making Dad's body rock back and forth, impaled onto Pete's stiff boner. Dad had been fucked plenty of times before, but never in a sling.

Other men began gathering around the scene, some to watch as they masturbated themselves, some to stroke my father's stiff cock or pinch his nipples or open poppers beneath his nose, others waiting their turns to fuck Dad's ass. It wasn't long until one of the men positioned himself behind Dad's head as it lolled back, directing his cock into my father's open mouth. The-back-and-forth motion of the sling pushed the sizable cock into Dad's throat while another man's cock was sliding on the out-stroke in his rectum. The motion reversed, back and forth, over and over. As one man shot his load into my father's throat or ass – or pulled out before cumming in order to keep his arousal primed for multiple bathhouse encounters – another man came into position to take his place, and another, and another. So many that Dad lost count. But his intensely erotic story kept pouring out, stoking his lust and mine.

The longer I sucked his cock, the more his tale was punctuated by groans of rising pleasure. When I began squeezing his balls in my hand – first gently, then with increasing pressure – he stopped talking altogether, and I could tell he was about to go over the edge. I could have brought his cock to a crashing orgasm with 30 more seconds of stimulation, but another thought occurred to me. Instead of making him cum in my mouth, I stopped. Cold. Rising up to a kneeling position, I saw the needy sexual hunger in his expression. An intense orgasm had been in his grasp, but I had yanked it away at the last moment.

"How about if I fuck you," I said with a grin. "Just like in that bathhouse."

"Yes!" he said, in a pleading voice. "Fuck me, Billy!"

Reaching over to drawer of the bedside table, he got a tube of lubricant and handed it to me.

"Spread it on your cock, Billy. But first, would you…" He paused.

"What, Daddy?" I prompted after a few moments of silence.

It seemed like he struggled to speak his request, even though he had just regaled me with his pornographic account of being gang fucked at a sex club. "Would you spank me first? With a belt?"

I smiled down at him. "Sure!" He was totally opening up to me about his kinky desires. As a result, my sexual experience was expanding rapidly as we ticked off the perversions I had read about in Dad's stroke-books. The masturbation fantasies of a horny 14-year-old were becoming reality.

I went to Dad's closet to get the wide black-leather belt that he brought home from his World War II service in the Marines. When I turned back to the bed, my father was still on his back but had pulled back his legs to fully expose his buttocks and asshole. One hand cupped his balls to shield them, the other arm looped behind a knee to bring it almost to his shoulder. As I approached, I saw that his body was twitching slightly with anticipation, and he rocked back onto his shoulders to highlight my target even more prominently.

I gave him a look that conveyed the question: 'Are you sure that you really want this?'

He nodded his head slightly. The hungry look in his eyes made it abundantly clear that he wanted it!

I had read a full-blown description of a belt-whipping in the book about the biker gangs, so I just followed that script. Holding the belt's buckle, I wrapped the leather once around my hand. I brought my arm back and let the thick belt fly. It whooshed through the air but missed its mark, hitting the bed more than Dad's butt. But when I swung again it slapped solidly on his backside, landing with a loud SMACK. It hit with more force than I had intended, reddening the skin immediately. I paused before doing it again.

But Dad urged me ahead with one word – "Yes!" – barely murmured, but clearly conveying his desire.

I had his permission to spank him mercilessly, and the feeling was strangely exhilarating. The belt came down again – SMACK! And again – SMACK! And again and again. My aim improved to the point where I could place the end of the belt exactly where I wanted it. Dad groaned loudly every time the leather slapped his butt-cheek, his face registering pure ecstasy. And when I made the belt's tip strike at the tender flesh of his anal pucker a couple times, his body convulsed and his cries of pleasure-pain were loud enough that I wondered if the neighbors could hear. I was getting so much into the role-playing that my cock was totally erect again, without me even touching it.

When I finally stopped to catch my breath and wipe the sweat from my face – this was harder work than I thought! – Dad was ready for the next part.

"Fuck me, Billy! Fuck me good and hard!"

Dad's entire butt was an angry swath of red, and I'm sure it was painful for him. But I also knew exactly what he wanted me to do. I slathered lube on my stiff penis and knelt down on the bed in front of him. Dad was still holding his legs up to his chest and was now masturbating his cock. I had never fucked anyone before, nor been fucked, but the concept was clear enough. I eagerly jabbed my cock-head into my father's hole.

"Slowly at first," he cautioned.

I retrained my instinctive desire to drill into his ass, and instead eased in gradually. It didn't take long – maybe 30 seconds – before Dad was urging me to go a little faster. In 2 minutes he was begging for a hard, fast fuck. I let my instinct take over completely this time, thrusting my hips urgently against his hot red butt, pistoning my slippery adolescent cock in fast strokes that slammed rapidly into his ass again and again.

As I was urgently working toward an inevitable fast cum, Dad was briskly stroking his cock to reach the same goal. He got there first, but not by much. With an animalistic growl, he orgasmed powerfully, spewing several ropes of semen, the first reaching his chin, as splotches of cum decorated his chest and belly and ran down onto his jerking hand. As my father's anal muscle clenched down on my pounding cock, I shot my teenage cum inside him, gasping as my body experienced one of the most intense climaxes in my 2 years of sexual maturity.

I collapsed onto Dad's body and his legs wrapped around my hips. I licked the cum off his chin and we kissed, sliding our tongues together, as our chests and bellies smeared the rest of Dad's semen between us.

"That was so great!" Dad sighed at last.

"Yeah!" I murmured as I rolled off him.

We lay in exhausted silence for a while before I spoke again.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Bill?"

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Sure."

"Back when you still lived with Mom and me, like when I was 11 and still wetting my bed, do you remember getting me up at night to pee?"

"Yes; I remember."

"Do you remember feeling me up in a sexy way when you were doing that? You know, feeling my butt and giving me a boner after I finished peeing?"

Looking over at him, I could tell I'd asked another difficult question. He gently bit at his bottom lip as an answer was formulating in his brain.

"Yes. I'm ashamed to say that I did that… fondling you when I thought you were asleep. I'm truly sorry if it upset you."

"Oh; it didn't bother me at all, Dad! It felt really nice, and it was the first time I figured out that my dick could feel that good. I didn't actually learn about sex until I was 12 and playing around with my friends, but it felt so loving to have you stroking my dick and feeling my butt."

"When you were 11, and just beginning puberty, I found myself becoming sexually attracted to you," he said. "I knew it was wrong, but the temptation was so powerful."

"Did you ever think about sucking my dick?"

"Oh God, yes!" he said in a wistful voice. "It took all of my willpower to not take your sexy little erection in my mouth. That was one of the reasons I decided I had to leave you and your mother. It wasn't just that I was homosexual; it was the thought that I couldn't trust myself not to molest you." He paused, as a pained look of realization came over his face. "But here I am tonight, doing things that are completely inappropriate for a father to do to his son."

"Dad; you didn't molest me tonight. I've had sex before, and I wanted it tonight with you. A lot of what we did was my idea; remember?"

The anguish drained from my father's face, replaced by grateful relief. "I love you, Bill," he said, as he turned on his side and pulled me into his embrace.

"I love you too, Dad," I replied. Our tongues came together again; not with aggressive passion, but with gentle affection. Even so, my pubescent body responded to the sexual stimulus. Though I had already cum twice in the past hour – and several times earlier in the day – thoughts of lust began to overcome my post-orgasmic lethargy. I couldn't resist making another proposal.

"I really need to take a pee, Dad. Want to help out in the bathroom, like you did those times before?"

He looked startled at first, but then he grinned. "Alright!"

As we got off his bed, he went to his dresser and pulled out some white briefs – just like the kind I always wore. "Put them on, Billy. It'll be just like when you were young."

I slid on the underpants, and they fit me snugly. Dad was about the same size as me, so he must have worn them for their erotic associations, rather than for comfort. We walked together to the hall bathroom, and I stood in front of the toilet passively. He stood behind, his chest touching my back, his hands moving slowly over my chest and belly. Then his hands came down to the front of the underpants, feeling my penis through the soft cotton cloth.

I closed my eyes and was transport back three years into the past when I was a naïve 11-year-old, half-asleep, with my Daddy's strong warm body pressed close to my boyish frame. As his thumbs slid inside the waistband of the underpants, the thrill of remembrance swept over me. The briefs were pulled down to mid-thigh, and I trembled slightly. And when Dad's hand wrapped around my penis, I gasped a sharp intake of breath. Despite my sexual exhaustion, I felt my dick stiffening once more.

"Go pee for me, Billy," said Dad, whispering the familiar childhood words in my ear. As his right hand held my throbbing cock, his left hand was wandering over my butt.

"I can't, Daddy," I said in soft little-boy voice. "I've got a stiffie, and I'd make a mess." It was true. As hard as my cock was, it would never bend down enough to pee into the toilet. I thought a moment and said: "Maybe we could go in the shower and do it there."

We stood a few steps away from a walk-in shower that was large enough for both of us. But when we stepped in, Dad stood in front of me rather than behind. "Pee on me, Billy. Pee all over me."

"It's called 'water sports', right?" Yet another lesson from the porn books.

"That's right. Are you ok with this?"

"Sure!" I said. "And then you can do it to me!"

When the stream of urine began to flow, it landed first at the center of his chest at full force. Some of it even splashed back on me. At Dad's direction, I hosed it over as much of his body as I could reach – down to his penis and balls, up his belly, to his neck, splashing onto his face, and then right into his open mouth. To my surprise, Dad fell to his knees and took my spraying dick into his hand, holding it right at the entrance of his mouth… swallowing some of the pee while the rest flowed down his front. Damn!

When my bladder was empty, we switched places. I lay on the floor of the shower (copying a scene from the book), and he stood over me between my spread legs, holding his penis in preparation. The first of Dad's pee hit my thigh, and then he directed it onto my crotch, drilling onto my dick, then made zigzagging lines up my torso. He told me to close my eyes just before the spray reached my face and hair. I didn't have my mouth open at first, but then I opened it with impulsive curiosity. The complex taste of Dad's warm urine was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but my emotional reaction to drinking my father's pee was 100% erotic excitement – the same way I felt about tasting and swallowing cum.

I stood up, and Dad turned on the shower. We washed ourselves and each other, and were still caressing each other's bodies as the warm shower rinsed us clean. As we toweled dry, I had yet another question for Dad. "Do you think I could go with you up to New York sometime and go to that bathhouse?"

"Not a chance!" he replied in an instant. "You're way too young for that kind of thing."

"How about that guy Pete you were talking about. Do you still get together with him? Could you and me fool around with him sometime?"

Dad's answer didn't come so quickly this time. "Let me think about it," he said.

From the look in his eye, I knew this would be something I could talk him into, now that I knew how helpless he was to resist his deviant desires when he was horny.

I drifted to sleep that night, next to my father in his double bed, with my mind playing out scenarios of Dad and me having a 3-way with an uninhibited dominant gay man.

This was turning out so incredibly great!

Chapter 3

"Mmmm… that feels nice!" he murmured. Then he turned around to face me, taking me in his arms and looking into my eyes. "Are you sure you're alright with what we did last night? And what we're doing now? It seems so…"

"Dad; I'm 100% sure. We both want it, and we both get pleasure from it. And I'm sure I want to do it again." I adjusted my body so that our hard cocks were perfectly aligned and pressed together. "You do want it, don't you?"

"Oh, god; yes! I want it so intensely I don't trust myself to know where to stop." His face mirrored the mixture of love, lust, and anguish that I could hear in his voice.

"Then trust me; ok?" I gave him a kiss on the lips. "Ok, Dad?" I repeated insistently

"Ok, son." He kissed me back, and our tongues touched, playfully at first and then passionately.

I felt that I should take the lead, reassuring him that our feelings and desires were mutual. "Let's suck each other… you know, at the same time… ok, Dad?"

He nodded, smiled, kissed me again.

I shifted myself around to the 69 position, with both of us lying on our sides. Before I could take his penis in my mouth, I felt the warm wetness of his lips and tongue plunging down the shaft of my cock. I moaned out loud and then took his cock-head into my mouth. It was so great to have the two of us pleasuring each other like this. Dad was far better at cock-sucking than I was, of course, and I decided to imitate everything he was doing to me. When he orally pleasured my glans, probing the piss-slit and running his tongue around the exquisitely sensitive ridge, I did the same. When his lips plunged down to the base of my cock, I did it to him too… or at least tried to. And when he began fingering my anal pucker as he sucked my cock, I copied him exactly.

It didn't take too long before my 14-year-old body was overwhelmed by the intense stimulation of my anal flesh and the gentle penetration of his finger as my stiff dick was being pleasured. "That's making me so horny! Would you… fuck me?" It was so sexy just saying the words!

"Have you ever done it before?"

"No," I answered, honestly. "But I've thought about it a lot." And, of course, I had topped Dad the previous night.

"I'm glad I'll be your first," he said with conviction. I could tell already how psyched he was. "How do you want to be… on your back, face down, or some other position?"

"I'll do it just like we did last night."

As I lay on my back with my legs spread and pulled back, Dad put a pillow under my hips and reached for the tube of KY from the bedside table. Before he could smear a glob of lubricant around and into my asshole, I impulsively blurted out a request.

"Lick my bottom-hole first, Daddy," I said in an 11-year-old's innocent voice. The sexual acts I had learned from Dad's porn books had me eager to try everything out. I also knew that Dad wouldn't be able to resist the taboo thrill of me role-playing a pre-pubescent boy.

His face dipped down, and I almost jumped when his tongue first made contact with my asshole. He was soon lapping at my anal flesh with the eagerness of a puppy, and then his tongue began drilling into the clenched circle. Oh, yeah! This was every bit as awesome as the porn books had suggested. My hands drew my legs back even more to better expose my asshole to his probing. I craned my neck forward to watch my submissive father's total devotion to pleasuring my anus with his tongue. As he rimmed me, I stroked my rigid cock. It was all I could do to restrain myself from shooting cum all over my chest. But I wanted to make the feeling last forever, so I held back.

After a several minutes of intense anal ecstasy, Dad rose up, grinning at me, and said: "Is my little boy ready to make Daddy's penis feel good?"

"Yes, Daddy. You can put your hard penis in my bottom-hole now. I'll be your good little sex-boy." We were both getting really off on the role-play.

Dad lubed his cock up and spread the rest on my asshole, which was already slippery with his saliva. One finger probed into the hole, then two, as he described how to dilate my anal muscle. By the time he finished these preliminaries, I was totally ready for my virgin ass to be fucked.

As Dad positioned his cock-head and pushed it into me, I opened myself to him and took it without a whimper. With a rhythmic series of small nudges forward, his cock entered me completely. Since his boner was smaller and more slender than average, it was perfect for me. The feeling at first was an ambiguous mix of unfamiliar fullness (though not pain) and a new kind of sexual stimulation. As he began to slowly fuck his cock back and forth inside me, the balance tilted increasingly to pure pleasure, and I began masturbating my own super-hard penis again.

"Yes, Daddy! Ah, yes! Yes," I moaned in my little-boy voice. "Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck my bottom-hole! Your penis feels so good inside me!"

And it did feel good. Amazingly good! Right from the start.

Dad loved it too. I looked up into his face, beaming with ecstatic sexual arousal as his hips churned in fuck-strokes.

"Oh, Billy… it's so good! Fucking my sexy little boy… I've dreamed of doing this for so long!" He leaned into me, his arms pushing against my pulled-back legs, and our mouths met in an instantly-intense kiss. At the same moment, his fuck-thrusts came faster and harder.

Oh, God! I wanted it to last forever – the intense pleasure of my hyper-stimulated anal nerves, the totally new sensation of my prostate being rubbed by a stiff cock, combined with the self-induced euphoria of my masturbation strokes. With every hard thrust of Dad's cock and every pleasure-moan from my mouth, I became ever more convinced that I was destined to be a bottom slut, craving the next delicious butt-fuck.

The bedroom echoed with the sounds of intense sexuality as both of us neared our climaxes. Dad was first, groaning with lust as his adolescent-size cock spewed cum into my bowels. But instead of resting, he immediately pulled out of me and slid down my body so that he could finish me with his mouth.

In a moment his lips and tongue were sliding rapidly up and down the full length of my stiff penis. I knew I couldn't last long, and I didn't. In less than a minute I was spurting boy-cum into my father's mouth, and he was taking in every drop. His lips slid off of my spent penis, and he moved up into my embrace as we lay side by side. When our tongues met I tasted my own semen as I kissed him fiercely.

We had to end our lovemaking there, unfortunately, because Dad needed to get ready for work. We showered together, sensuously soaping each other's body, and then I watched as he got dressed. I remained naked, lying back on his bed and trying to look sexy. He kept looking at my body and smiling, so I guess I succeeded.

"You're so goddamned hot, Billy!" he said as he put on his suit coat and leaned down to fondle my penis one last time.

"You are too, Daddy," I said, as my own hand groped his crotch.

I could see on his face that he was tempted to linger and have sex with me again, but his sense of duty prevailed. He leaned down and kissed me and then was gone.

I ate some breakfast and sat in bed with Dad's porn books, reading the parts I'd skipped the previous day and re-reading passages that I remembered as being particularly hot. The entire time, I remained naked. I knew that nobody would come by the cottage, and it made it easier to fondle my cock, which kept rising up to a boner at the slightest provocation. When I finally decided to go to the beach, I went to Dad's dresser and got the skimpy red speedo bathing suit that I'd noticed the day before, when I was searching for his porn collection. It fit me perfectly, and I looked at myself approvingly in the full-length mirror, adjusting my penis to show it off best.

I walked the two blocks to the beach, wearing only the speedo and flip-flops, wondering whether I would get any lustful glances. After my encounters with Dad, I was feeling uncharacteristically bold in flaunting my pubescent sexuality. When I reached the boardwalk, I looked down to the left at the cinderblock building that contained the public toilets, showers, and changing room… the place my parents had warned me not to enter by myself. All of a sudden it took on a magnetic attraction for me. I wasn't sure what I was looking for exactly, or what I'd find, but I had to check it out.

As I approached the door, there was a guy who looked around college-age just outside. He was smoking a cigarette (this was the 1960s, remember) and wore khaki shorts and a polo shirt with a logo – the waiter's uniform of a popular nearby restaurant. He looked at me and smiled, his eyes quickly scanning down my body, and his hand casually brushed against his crotch. He had an appealing demeanor and a very nice body – medium-height, slender, with broad shoulders – and I felt an immediate attraction to him. I don't know if the word "gaydar" had yet been invented, but he surely possessed it, and I was feeling it for the first time.

"Hi," he said. Just reading that word doesn't give any hint of the seductive inflection of his voice that combined with the knowing look on his face to make me blush and stammer before I could say "Hi" in return. Instead of going inside, I just stood there making goo-goo eyes at this self-confident 20-year-old.

"If you want to get an eye-full," he said in a sly voice; "go in quickly and go around the barrier on your left. There's two of the regulars in there and nobody else, and I bet you anything that one of them is on his knees with a cock in his mouth."

Now I was blushing even more, and my penis was beginning to stir beneath the snug material of the speedo. I tried to cover my crotch with my hand, which just made my arousal more obvious.

"If you like, we can go in together and have some fun." He crushed out his cigarette, but kept his intense eye contact the whole time. "You know what I talking about right?"

"I think so," I said, managing to get the words out as I impulsively squeezed my stiffening cock. "Yeah; I'd like to have some fun." I pulled my hand away to show him the boner pushing out a vertical ridge along the crotch of the speedo. He smiled and nodded approvingly.

"My name's Dave," he said, extending his hand.

I shook it. "I'm Billy."

He held onto my hand for longer than the usual handshake, and I imagined I could feel erotic electricity flowing between us.

"I have to be at work at the restaurant in 20 minutes, but that's plenty of time."

I nodded, not knowing precisely what I was getting into.

"Follow me; move quickly," he said.

He barged through the door of the building with me at his heels. Zipping around a barrier wall to the changing area, we were just in time to see two men in the process of disengaging from their blow-job, just as Dave had predicted. One was turning away and pretending he was getting dressed. He was a burly guy of perhaps 35 or 40, Italian-looking and hairy. The other, who was rising up from his previous kneeling position, was older – maybe 50 or even 60. He was franticly trying to fasten his Bermuda shorts over his erection, having probably been masturbating while he sucked the other guy. Seeing Dave, who was now laughing at his prank, the two men immediately relaxed. And when they saw me, their eyes widened with renewed lust.

"Jesus, Dave! You scared the shit out of me," said the older man, but his friendly grin suggested that he got off on the danger of being caught. "But I sure like what you brought along." His eyes were devouring my body, focusing primarily on my crotch.

"Who's your young friend?" asked the other one. He let his pants come open again, showing his cock and stroking it back to full erection. Man! It was huge! Easily 9 inches [23 cm], and thick. He was blatantly showing it off, and I couldn't help but stare. "Want to suck it, boy?" he asked me, giving the monster a wiggle with his fingers. "Or maybe you'd like to get a good fuck?"

As a matter of fact, I was already fantasizing both options. But Dave had other plans. "Billy and I are going back to a stall for a little privacy. He's not an exhibitionist like you two faggots. But how about you give us a show to get us in the mood before we go back there."

"Sure!" said the man with his cock out. "Get on your knees again, Ronald, and show the boy how it's done." He turned 90 degrees so that I would be watching in profile.

The older man, who struck me as soft and effeminate – the very opposite of his macho partner – slipped down into position and enveloped the large cock in his mouth, quickly taking the whole thing into his throat. Jeez! How did he do that?

As I stood watching the pornographic scene, Dave came around behind me and spooned my back. His hands first rested my bare shoulders, then stroked down my arms, then across to my chest. He seemed to have a magic touch, and the caresses of his talented hands sent shivers through my body. As he toyed with my tiny stiff nipples, his face nuzzled my hair, and then he brought his mouth close to my ear.

"You ever sucked a man's cock before?" he said softly. At the same moment, his right hand slid down along my belly and came to rest on the bulge in the front of my speedo.

"Yeah," I replied. "A couple times."

"Cool!" he said, as his fingertips poked inside the front of my bathing suit and touched the head of my straining boner. "Done it with your friends too, I bet."

"Yeah," I answered, breathlessly.

"Ever been fucked by a man?"

"Once." A sexual chill ran through my body.

"Alright! You're a pretty awesome dude, Billy." Both of his hands slid beneath the waistband at the sides of my hips and pushed my speedo down a few inches, so my cock was fully exposed. He began masturbating my stiff penis with a soft but totally erotic touch, as his other hand fondled my balls. "You're really handsome and sexy too!" he whispered, with his mouth so close that I could feel his hot breath inside my ear.

The flood of erotic stimuli stoked my lust to a level I'd never imagined before – watching the incredible blow-job that was being performed there in the public changing room; being expertly masturbated by a handsome gay twink; and hearing him praise me like that. I was floating on a cloud of pure ecstatic sexual arousal.

I continued to concentrate on the two older men going at it a few paces away. The younger one was gripping the older guy's head and thrusting his cock in an aggressive face-fuck, and the older man was deep-throating it all with apparent ease as he stroked his own erection.

Just then I heard voices approaching and the door creaked open. Ack! My brain went into panic mode as I pulled up my speedo.

"Quick! Go to the sink and wash your hands," whispered Dave. "Don't look around at the people who come in." And then he moved quickly to a bench in the changing room, faced away from the door, and pretended to be tying his tennis shoes. By the time the people entering were in a place where they could see anything, there was no obvious sign of what had been going on only seconds before. In the mirror above the sink, I saw a young boy – perhaps 8 years old – and his father, moving toward the toilets. The boy glanced in my direction (he was a cutie!), but the father nudged him along (perhaps suspecting what had been going on). In another minute or so, they were through with their business, not bothering to wash their hands, and were out the door.

I smiled at Dave as my adrenalin rush completed its change-over from panic mode to sexual exhilaration. My boner was as stiff as ever, and I squeezed it eagerly.

"So what do you think of men's-room sex?" asked Dave as we came together and his hand replaced mine. "Pretty exciting, huh?"

"Yeah!" I exclaimed as I looked over to see the two men get back into position to resume their blow-job.

Dave glanced at his watch. "Let's go to a toilet stall and have some fun."

As he led me farther back in the building, I looked back over my shoulder, and the burley guy getting sucked gave me a sly wink.

When we got to the toilet area, Dave chose the stall that was farthest in back, in a corner, and latched the door behind us.

"Take off you swim suit, Billy."

As I did as he instructed, Dave was stripping off his khakis and shirt, hanging them on the hook on the back of the door. He pushed his boxer shorts half-way down his thighs. As I had anticipated, he had a great-looking body – tight abs, a smooth well-defined chest… and a fully erect cock. His was only the second adult hard-on I'd ever seen at that point, but I knew instinctively that it was beautiful. Of all the cocks I've seen in the years since (literally thousands on the Internet), Dave's stands out in my memory as a classically perfect twink boner. It was more than 6 inches [15 cm] long, smooth, curving slightly toward his belly, and elegantly proportioned from the glans all the way down his trimmed pubic hair. He gave me a hug, and his hands slid down my back to my butt, pulling me close and pressing our cocks together.

"Have I mentioned yet that you're really sexy," he murmured, just before kissing me and slipping his tongue into my mouth.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned the kiss as our bodies did a slow erotic grind against each other. My boyish boner pressed into his adult-size rod, as my mind swam with arousal and the excitement of sexual discovery.

"Sit down on the toilet seat and suck me," he said, his hands already pressing on my shoulders.

My mouth was almost perfectly aligned with his cock-head as I leaned forward with my elbows resting on my knees. I slowly slid my lips around the beautifully-shaped glans. Back then, most American guys were circumcised, and Dave was no exception. My tongue slithered all around his cock-head, exploring the piss-slit and stimulating the ridge. Dave murmured words of praise, and his hands softly caressed my hair. My mouth began to slide rhythmically up and down, taking in a little more of the shaft with each down-stroke, determined to go all the way down on Dave's cock. When I kept gagging each time before I'd taken in much more than half of its length, Dave pulled his slippery boner out of my mouth.

"You don't need to learn that right now," he said gently. "I'd get off really good if you use your hand to help out." He showed me how to wrap my hand around the base of his cock, bringing my mouth down to touch my thumb and forefinger, and then moving them up and down together on his cock. "Kind of like jacking me off and sucking me at the same time," he said.

Doing as he instructed, I was soon working his spit-slick erection in rhythmic strokes of my hand and mouth. When my hand was all the way down at the base, there was just enough cock above it to fill my hungry slobbering mouth without engaging my gag reflex.

"Yeah, dude," he moaned. "That feels totally awesome! Keep going hard and fast, just like that. Damn, that's so good!"

I was giving it my all, trying to use some of the oral techniques that Dad had used on me, and I felt confident that Dave was being truthful with his praise. And the proof came faster than I expected.

"I'm getting really close! Let me take over!" He pulled his cock out of my mouth and replaced my hand with his own. "Open your mouth and wait for it," he ordered.

Dave masturbated his beautiful boner right in front of my face, and in less than a minute a rope of semen spurted out onto me, spraying my face from chin to forehead, including into my open mouth. More spurts followed, to the accompaniment of Dave's pleasure-grunts and sighs. Then he stuck his cock back in my mouth. "Suck it some more, but really soft and slow… Yeah; that's it. Oh, yeah; that feels so good!"

Finally, Dave was sated, and he pulled his softening cock from my mouth. He swiped at the cum on my face with his fingers, and then fed my mouth. I licked and sucked his fingers, eating his cum and loving the intense eroticism of the act. I was proud of myself for giving him pleasure, but was still really horny too. My own cock had remained stiff, and I reached down to stroke it.

"Stand up, Billy, and trade places with me. I want you to beat off for me," Dave instructed. "I love watching handsome young guys jack their cocks."

With Dave now sitting on the toilet and me standing right in front of him, I began to stroke my penis, putting on a sexy masturbation show for his enjoyment. As I jacked my rigid cock, Dave reached around me with his left hand and caressed by butt cheek. His right hand went to his mouth, collecting saliva on his fingertips, and reached between my legs and up to my ass-hole. I continued to masturbate as his fingers slid all around the anal flesh and then probed into the pucker. I began to jack off faster, whaling away on my boner as his index finger gradually penetrated in a twisting motion.

"Getting close?" he asked after a couple minutes.

"Yeah!" I gasped.

"I'll finish you off," Dave said, removing my hand from my dick and replacing it with his mouth. Right from the start he was aggressively sliding his lips and tongue up and down the entire length of my cock-shaft, and the sensations were incredible! My knees felt so weak that I needed to rest my hands on his shoulders for support. And the whole time, he continued to finger-fuck my asshole. As I felt my orgasm rising up, Dave's finger started massaging my prostate. AAAAHHH! It was almost too intense as a massive burst of cum shot out of my cock and into his mouth. He quickly replaced his lips with his hand and milked several more long spurts of semen onto his face. Then he returned my cock to his mouth and gently nursed even more cum onto his tongue as my body convulsed with pleasure spasms.

As he withdrew his finger from my ass and let my cock slip from his mouth, he guided me onto his lap, sitting sideways with my legs dangling to the side.

"Lick your cum off my face," he said with a smile. I happily complied, getting every glob of semen. Then he returned the favor, licking every remaining splotch from when he's shot his load onto my face. We kissed briefly and then quickly dressed.

"Walk with me to the restaurant, OK?"

"Sure," I replied. It was like he was my boyfriend, walking me home from school.

As we passed the two men in the changing room, they were engaged in a standing fuck. The older one was bent over a bit, with his hands resting on the wall and his ass sticking out. His pants and underwear were around his knees, ready to be pulled up quickly if someone came in the door. The burly younger man was plowing his long thick cock into the other guy's asshole in rhythmic thrusts, and the older man was loving it.

"Stick around, sweetie, and I'll fuck you next," grunted the 40-year-old bear as we walked past.

"Uh, maybe some other time," I replied. Would I be able to take a cock that seemed twice as big as Dad's? The guy reminded me so much of the characters in the porn book about big-cocked bikers. I knew the visual memory would feed my masturbation fantasies for a long time to come.

"So are you down here for the week?" asked Dave as we exited the building and strolled along the boardwalk.

"Yeah; 'til Sunday." It was then only Monday.

"Any chance of meeting me earlier in the day sometime, so we can take our time?"

"Sure!" I said, feeling a surge of excitement. "In fact, I'm staying with my Dad in a cottage on New Castle Street. He lives down here all year, and I have the house to myself during the week from 8 o'clock on when he leaves for work."

"Awesome!" Dave said, and he slung his arm around my shoulder as we walked. "Tell ya what. Meet me at that bench over there at 8:30 tomorrow morning if you're still psyched, and we'll walk back to your place. If you don't show by 8:45, I'll know you changed your mind, but I won't hold it against you. Deal?"

"Deal!" I said. "And I promise I'll be there."

We were just coming up to the restaurant, and Dave walked me around to the back entrance. When we were out of view of people on the street, he took me in his arms and gave me a really sexy kiss, holding me tight.

"We'll have some awesome fun tomorrow," he said. See ya."

I walked back to the cottage in a daze… like walking on a cloud. This week was beginning to seem like a wonderland of sexual discovery. Dad would be home in 5 hours, probably feeling horny for some more role-play sex with his little boy. And he said that he might get in touch with his BDSM buddy Pete for a 3-way.

Hey! What if we had a 4-way with Dave and Pete? I definitely had to tell Dad all about my adventures today.