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Subject: Naval Tradition Revised 11 Naval Tradition REVISED EDITION Bill Drake (ail) with Corporal Cody NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction explicitly depicting sexual acts between men, including male relatives. If that offends or disturbs you, read no further. Thanks to all the great work that the Nifty Archive does and the writers it publishes. Please consider supporting them with a donation. This is the revised and retconned version of Naval Tradition, told in chronological order. While the overall story is the same, there is lot of new content here (and some of the old parts didn’t make the cut in this version). This revision has been a collaboration with fellow writer Corporal Cody. My thanks to him for his considerable contributions to and inspiration for this version. Feel free to drop a line if you enjoy it: ail. I hope to have an ebook version at the end of this, so you can let me know if you want to be on the mailing list for that. NAVAL TRADITION Bill Drake, with Corporal Cody PART TWO: COLLEGE YEARS Chapter Eleven Charlottesville, Spring 2003 I was on a high after this overnight stay with Dad, and lord knows I pumped out a lot of loads thinking about doing more than just sucking him in his uniform. But I also felt proud of myself for managing both sex with my father and a regular dad-son relationship. I called him on Sunday after my workout, still feeling the high from a good pump even after my shower. My hair was still damp and curling into my face as I sat at my dorm room desk, smiling with my phone to my ear in only my cut-off sweats before starting my reading assignments. We chatted about school and baseball season starting up in a week. We talked like nothing had happened at first. I hoped I didn’t have too much urgency in my voice when I said I might come home the following weekend. “It would be great to see you, Slugger,” he said. “But you gotta focus on school. Particularly now that baseball season is starting up.” His response threw me for a loop as I sat back in my chair. “Oh.” The disappointment was palpable in my voice. “Look Jim, I get it,” he explained. “You’re horny, and we had a great time together. You want more, don’t you?” “Yessir,” I admitted meekly. “I do.” I knew we were doing this on a time-by-time basis, but at that point I felt like I had the right to admit that I wanted another time with him. “Slugger, believe me when I say I enjoyed the hell out of what we did. But I don’t want you to focus on me for sex. You’re young and in college, and I know it can be hard for a gay guy, but still….” “I get it, Dad. You want me to date someone my age.” “…or play the field. If we’re gonna do this Jim, it’s gotta be a side thing, just for the thrill of it.” “Are you saying ‘no’ to us?” I was nervous to hear his answer but prepared to follow his wishes. He paused. I listened to him sigh. “I’m saying `no’ to you coming home this weekend. I’ll be up this spring, a lot. I want to see my baseball star play,” he said jovially. As disappointed as I was that he was putting some distance between us sexually, I was almost as excited to have Dad come to my games. It meant a lot to me, it always had in high school, and I wondered if he’d be able to see me play now that I was away at college. The idea cheered me up, bringing a smile back to my face. “That’d be awesome, Dad.” The conversation was just another stumbling block as Dad and I figured out exactly what we were doing. ***** Baseball season began a week after that, and I found my life consumed by the schedule. Games, practices, and workouts, and scrambling to do my schoolwork and make-up tests. College was harder than high school on every level. This was my first real test balancing athletics, school and life. In this instance though, my social life was put on hold. I got to know the guys on the team real well, but that was about it. I barely even saw Holt for a few weeks’ stretch, and I saw Tim mostly because he was my roommate. I had a breakout baseball season that spring. I think even the coaches were surprised at how well I was playing. I hadn’t initially earned a spot in the rotation as a freshman, but something clicked at batting practice in mid-February, and the coaches noticed. Once one of the outfielders got injured, I got a shot to fill in for him. They moved me around in the line up until I earned the nickname of the “Cleanup Kid.” I had more RBIs that spring than UVA had seen from a freshman in a few years. It was a freshman fluke, but I’d take it. Better yet, my defense game was getting better and I hoped to earn a spot at second base, my old high school position. But for now, I was learning the outfield the best I could. One of the things that was great but also frustrating about dorm life was having a roommate. Tim and I were two guys who wouldn’t have ended up as friends otherwise, but we got along great. I think he got a kick out of having the jock roommate, since his friends were generally art majors and fit the part. I credit him with giving me a model for balancing college fun with seriousness. Tim wouldn’t hesitate to stay in on a weekend night if he had a paper to write. But we also both enjoyed weed and would occasionally share a joint at night if nothing else was going on. I probably was taking chances smoking given the NCAA drug policy, but I did enjoy a toke as a treat. The one thing that sucked was the lack of privacy. I had a pretty keyed up sex drive and it seemed to be getting more intense throughout my freshman year. I jerked off. A lot. At least as much as I could get away with. Sometimes it was just a quick tug in the shower. Or a longer stroke when Tim was at class. I thought my sex drive had been heated during high school, but I felt it nonstop now. Holt and I had to be careful when and where we met up for sex. For now, I was walking around campus in a frequent state of sexual frustration. Come the beginning of March, I finally had another chance for one of Bulldozer’s blowjobs. Long overdue. Charlie and I saw each other regularly, but my game schedule and our roommates’ presence didn’t allow for much more. Our hiatus was for the best, since it helped me and Holt bond as friends, without the sex. I was actually thinking we’d outgrown that phase of our friendship when we were hanging out that first Friday of Spring Break. Holt was flying out to join his football buddies in Florida the next day, but he called to see if I wanted to hang out that night. After I wrapped up my afternoon game, I met him out for some pizza. “Whaddya say we get a six pack and go over to yours, McGrath?” he asked as I sipped an iced tea between bites of pizza. Holt was a year ahead of me but was 19 as well, his birthday coming later in March. But he had a fake ID and had found a store that would sell to him without hassle. “Sounds perfect,” I said. I drove him over to his chosen convenience store and waited in my car until he came out with a brown bag and a big grin. He slid back into the passenger seat with his haul. “I even got the good stuff for you, McGrath.” Charlie liked to tease me for being “rich” as he called it. I was pretty fortunate: I had my car, and Dad not only paid my partial tuition but took care of my car insurance and gave me plenty of spending money. My dad was a Navy captain and not some business tycoon, but Holt had a more humble working-class upbringing. And, well, he just liked teasing me. When we got back to campus, Holt stuffed the six pack in my backpack to keep the RAs at the front desk from noticing. My friend was in a really good mood as we hung out in my dorm room, Holt sitting on my bed, me in my desk chair. He was already in vacation mode and a part of me was jealous. Spring is prime baseball season, and our schedule went right through Spring Break. But that was just one of those things. Baseball came first and I’m not sure I would have fit in with Holt’s teammates anyway if I followed him to Florida. “What are your plans next year, McGrath?” Holt asked as he pulled down a sizable sip of beer. “I hadn’t really planned,” I said. “Just been trying to get through this year.” Charlie smiled. “Whaddya say to getting a place off-campus? The two of us?” “Yeah?” I liked that idea a lot. He nodded. “The way I see it, you’ll be the responsible one, and I’ll know where the parties are,” he laughed. “And, well, it’d be really cool having a roommate who didn’t care who I brought home.” “That would be awesome,” I said, nodding with approval. I liked Tim a lot, but I acted the straight guy around him. Charlie gave me a pause and looked at me eye to eye. “Just to be clear, McGrath, I’m talking as roommates, nothing more.” I chuckled. “Believe me, I love you as a friend and a brother, but nothing more.” That made him smile. “Cool. Just had to make sure. You seem real eager for me to suck you sometimes.” I blushed. “You’re really fucking good at it, Holt.” “All of us need a talent,” he joked. Then he looked down at my crotch, my legs spread in my shorts as I reclined in my chair. “You’re boning up aren’t you, McGrath?” I nodded. “Um, yeah.” I took a sip of beer. I wasn’t sure if our bro-time in on a Friday night was going to lead to sex. The idea it might, though, was turning me on. Holt set down his beer bottle on the floor and patted his legs. “Stand up, buddy, come over here and let me take care of ya.” I set down my beer on my desk and, with a big smile on my face, stood up. I unzipped and fished out my erection. It was just what I needed. I love getting serviced. For the sex, but also for the admiration of other guys. It’s a real nice ego boost having Holt going down on me. I pushed down my shorts and briefs, working them around my sneakers before I kicked them off. I was still in my team hoodie but otherwise stood naked from the waist down in front of my friend – erect and horny. As I stepped up and saw my buddy sitting on the edge of my bed, ready to give me one of his Bulldozer Specials, his shorts unzipped and his hardon in his hand, an idea occurred to me. “Is it cool if I suck you this time, Holt?” I asked as I steadily stroked my cock, the goal of getting better for Dad in the back of my mind. Holt leaned forward to give my dick heavy swipes with his tongue. “You don’t gotta, McGrath. I love sucking you.” In all my life I don’t think I’ve ever met such a committed oral bottom as Charlie Holt. “I love you sucking me, too. But I want your fucking dick, Holt,” I growled, running my hand over his short bristled hair. He laughed and reclined his body back, his heather gray T-shirt stretched over his beef. His cock stood up, erect and craving attention. “All right, have at it, buddy.” I smiled, kneeling and crawling into a cocksucking position between Holt’s spread legs as he sat back on my bed, arms behind him. Holt wasn’t near Dad’s size, but I knew that a shorter cock allowed me to take it any way I wanted. Holt’s sweet, cut dick was smooth, the soft skin feeling silky against my tongue as I licked under the flared corona, loving the look on his face şişli travesti as he watched me service his five-and-a-halfer. He moaned as I took him in, maybe a little surprised I was this good at it. Not Bulldozer good, but I’d gotten better from my times with Dad. Holt let me work him over, groaning softly as I worked to take him deep with steady strokes. Holt’s 5-and-a-half spike let me take advantage of his more manageable size to work on my fellatio ability, his length just the right size to tap my gag reflex, allowing me to wrestle it down with comfortable ease. The room was filled with loud slurping noises as I sucked wildly and worked his erection, my hands now running under his grey T-shirt, feeling his solid football muscles tense with pleasure. Holt was now fully reclined back on his outstretched arms, his head falling back as well as he softly groaned with delight. The spit dribbled on my chin and onto Holt’s balls, which mashed into me with each downward bob. But I kept at it. Slowly the linebacker’s body became more tense with sexual pleasure. When he completely fell back, I felt his hands grip my knotted shoulders, a nice turnaround from our usual position. “Oh, Jim, you’re gonna… oh… Oh fuck!” he cried as his dick exploded in my mouth, sending a rush of sweet sperm into my craw. I don’t know what supplements Holt’s strength coach had him on, but his cum tasted like sweet cream. “Damn, McGrath, that’s the most romantic thing ya ever did for me, buddy,” he joked while laying back on my bed. We liked to make light of the no-strings nature of our bond. I leaned up, pulling off his dick and wiping off the spittle from my mouth, a little proud that my dicksucking skills were getting better. “You know me,” I laughed. “What would you do without me, stud?” he asked. “I’d be climbing the walls, probably. It’s great to take the edge off,” I said as I stood up, my hard cock throbbing in need. “Though I do have another fuck buddy.” I blushed, knowing the fuck buddy was my own father. Holt’s eyes widened as he got back up on his arms, “Yeah, McGrath?” I thought he might be jealous or concerned, or something, but he wasn’t fazed in the least. “Good for you, buddy. I worry about you sometimes.” Then looking around, he added with a sly grin, “You got some lube?” I wasn’t sure of his plans. Maybe he just wanted to stroke me off, like he’d done a couple of times. But as he leaned back on the bed he flipped over on all fours, one knee on the bed as I realized the Bulldozer was offering up his ass to me for the second time. Excitedly, I crouched down, my hand diving under my bed and quickly finding my trusty tube of lubricant. I slicked up my boner in seconds as Holt looked back and watched me with a lusty grin. He then grabbed the container from me and squirted a heavy amount of liquid on his thick fingers before reaching back into his furry crack, prodding his hole and greasing it up. “Go easy with that mule dick of yours, OK, McGrath?” he said before lowering his head submissively. “Aye aye,” I nodded, my breath quickening as I anticipated boning Holt’s beefy ass once more. ***** Dad drove up a few days later to see our game against Navy. It was a 4:00 game and the spring sun was out until around 6, but around sunset it started getting cooler. I generally try to stay focused on my game, but around the third inning, after I’d singled, I looked out on the stadium seats. Crowds at baseball games are never very big, at least in UVA’s pre-championship days, and I appreciated each and every person who came to watch. Especially during Spring Break, when the spectators numbered in the tens. But knowing my father was there, rooting for me, was special. It didn’t take me long to spot Dad sitting a few rows behind the dugout. He’d left the business-casual attire at home as he now sported a dark bomber jacket, zipped up over a hooded sweatshirt with dark, nice-fitting jeans. His hair was perfectly combed and styled per usual. He had a pair of shades perched on his Roman nose, his muscular bulky arms stretched out over the backs of the empty seats at his sides with a small cup of soda in one hand. I smiled as he noticed me, giving me a small wave and a handsome smirk. I tipped the corner of the bill of my cap at him, the grin on my face hard to miss. I’d like to think I played my best when my father was in the bleachers watching, but my at-bats weren’t particularly impressive, getting two strikeouts and a ground out. Navy wasn’t nearly as good a team as us, though, and we handily won, 12-1. My teammates were in a jovial mood as we showered and changed, and the vibe was definitely more relaxed over spring break. A few of the guys were hanging out that night and asked me to join them, but I told them I had other plans. Dad met me out front near the stadium entrance. He turned and watched me approach in my baseball hoodie and jeans, my sports bag strapped across my chest as I adjusted my cap higher on my brow. Dad took off his shades, the smile on his handsome face reflecting my own feelings over our solid win. He gently opened his arms, the gesture drawing me to him as I finally felt him pull me into his solid frame. I gripped him with strength as he gave me a hearty, “Great to watch you play, Slugger.” As we started walking across campus, he added, “You know… you’re the only one who’s ever made this captain root against Navy.” I laughed. “You better be rooting for me,” I kidded. Dad playfully nudged my cap back on my head, and asked, “Ready to grab a bite?” It was a burger joint, dead quiet over the break, and Dad and I had our normal father-son small talk in a booth over cheeseburgers. Dad told me about some pain-in-the-ass admiral he had to work under while I filled him in on my classes and which professors I liked and disliked. Beneath the surface of our conversation, I looked at Dad and lusted after him. Hearing his baritone voice, watching his thin, pink lips move, his square stubbled jaw tighten around his words, his granite eyes – it all made me want him. I knew after our previous conversation that I’d have to be patient and let him make any move. I had an idea that Dad knew I had sex in mind, though. Maybe it was his more jovial mood, and when he winked at me during a break in our conversation, I knew he wanted to fool around again. I couldn’t help but smile big. “I gotta get back to Norfolk tonight, Slugger,” he said after the check arrived, “but if you wanna…” The look in his cool-grey eyes finished his sentence for him. Dad was circumspect about talking of our sexual connection out loud. It was caution from being in public, but also his hesitation about what we were doing. My heart pounded and I felt a giddy excitement. “Oh yeah, I wanna,” I confessed with a quick nod as my foot gently tapped his under the table We made our way back to my dorm and each step toward my room filled me with more excitement. Particularly as I felt Dad’s hand clasp on my shoulder, warm and strong, as I unlocked the door and opened it. He stepped in as I shut the door and locked it. It was nighttime now and the room was dark, but not pitch black, the drawn shutters letting in some of the yellow-tinted glow from the lights outside my building. Dad had a big smile on his face, but I could also see a hint of seriousness behind it. “Listen… is it okay if we skip the kissing this time?” he asked as he unzipped and took off his bomber jacket. He had a Virginia sweatshirt on, and I gleefully watched as he peeled that off, too. His more adult muscle looked full and hard beneath the strained cotton of his T-shirt. The burly muscle had just the right amount of bulk. He was strong, in a way that showed regular commitment to working out, but not at all muscle-bound like a bodybuilder or gym meathead. He had wide, rounded shoulders, thick, dense arms, and a flat if not ripped stomach. The only thing that wasn’t in proportion was his chest, whose packed pectoral muscles jutted out from his upper body frame. I tossed my cap onto my desk. “Sure, thing,” I agreed, after stripping off my baseball team hoodie and throwing it over the back of my chair, on top of Dad’s jacket. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy that part with Dad, a lot, but I knew he’d been holding back more. If this was the condition for sex with him, I could live with that. “Can I see you naked, though?” I asked, in a respectful tone. I went to pull the blinds completely shut to give us privacy, and I flipped on a lamp. With a grin, Dad replied, “Absolutely, Slugger,” and gripped his shirt hem, pulling it up and over his head. Fuck! I loved my father’s chest and upper body, I loved watching his large muscles twist and contort as he removed his shirt. The dark brown fur that blanketed his upper body somehow looked fuller now, lit by the soft lamp light. He combed his wide fingers through his hair, bushing it back into place before he undid the buttons on his jeans. I was excited to see he’d gone commando, the thick hair visible as he spread the fly. “Do I get to see you too, Jim, or is this a solo show?” he teased as he pushed his jeans off his thighs, kicking them the rest of the way down. I hurriedly tried to catch up, pushing down my jeans and removing my shirt. I was already hard in my briefs as Dad’s dick swung out firm but heavy, with some room still to grow. I was frozen in my spot as I got to see Dad’s dick once again. Even at half-mast, it looked magnificent, hanging so fat and thick, decorated with bulging veins and crowned with a hood of foreskin that drooped past his cock head. I could easily make out the contour and shape of Dad’s head under the skin. My gaze dragged across his length, down to the nuts that hung low in their hairy sac. “God, that’s beautiful, Dad,” I said softly, slowly stepping out of my briefs. My dick was now very erect and very much on display for my father’s eyes. “I love seeing you like this, Jim,” Dad said in almost a whisper. His eyes swept up and down my nude form. We stood about six feet apart, naked. My eyes were drawn to my father’s genitals, which firmed up by the second. It was such an incredible, primal thing to watch my own father get an erection. His dick expanded out and grew. It didn’t harden in one single motion but would slowly expand, as if being pumped with air, then jerk up a little and push out more, his hood pulling back just enough for his swollen head to peek out. Then it firmed up more, and I watched entranced as it took on more length, finally getting to that unbelievable ten inches. Once full size, his cock grew more rigid and stood up. Given our size, neither his nor my cock would get to a very high angle, but the natural slant made our McGrath endowment look more prodigious jutting out from our crotches. “I’d love another one of your blowjobs, son,” he hissed. His cock jerked a little as he said it. “I keep thinking about them,” he added. I couldn’t deny his request. Particularly since I craved my father’s cock. “Yessir,” I replied. “Why don’t you lie back on the bed, Dad?” We hadn’t done that before, and I was beylikdüzü travesti eager to try a new position, especially one that would let me adjust the angle to suit me. Dad sat back on my bed, spreading his legs as he extended his feet out. I knelt down between his legs, my hands on his hairy, thick thighs, “I know you gotta get back to Norfolk,” I added as I gingerly stroked the fat base, pulling his cock off his stomach as I eagerly licked his ballsac. “But I wanna take my time with this.” He nodded, leaning up on his arms and tilting his head as he looked down on me. I licked up the length, kissing the smooth skin sheathed over his rock-hard girth. The previous time we’d done this, Dad had instructed me to take more of his extraordinary length. Not full deep throat, but I got down over 6 inches then. My goal this time was to match, maybe top that. It was a challenge because even though I enjoyed giving head, I didn’t consider myself very good at it. But I’d been working toward this act. Paying close attention to how Holt blew me. I now copied every small movement with Dad, at least the best I could given his ginormous size. It was too much cock to fellate properly, but I think Dad got off watching me trying to stuff his prick into my mouth, and down into the tightness of my throat. I leaned over his crotch as my tongue reached the tip. Dad’s groan was throaty as he watched my tongue swirl around the rim of his stretched foreskin, licking up his salty precum before I latched my lips around the head and slowly worked more of my dad’s meat in my mouth and throat. My tongue welcomed each new inch until finally, I braced my upper body and took a deep breath through my nose. I gripped the base of Dad’s stalk, holding him at my chosen angle as I forced myself to relax as best as I could. I felt the saliva begin to pool and then drip down this shaft and onto my fingers. I sucked at the length in my mouth, slurping and humming around him. “You got his, Jimbo,” Dad whispered with gravel in his voice as he gave me a wink. I moaned around him, then descended. I didn’t go quickly, since I didn’t want to engage my gag reflex. But I also wanted to take advantage of my mental focus, so centimeter after centimeter of Dad’s penis pushed into my gullet, the muscles of my neck swallowing him like a long drink of water. Dad let out ragged gasps, watching his inches disappear. I took it. I couldn’t measure it. Two, maybe three inches remained between my lips and Dad’s pubes. I could tell that Dad loved it, his dick pulsing and throbbing against my tongue and in my throat. My eyes were watering as I felt a huge sense of accomplishment swell in me. It was aided by Dad’s soft words. “Damn, son, that’s so fucking hot.” I looked up at him as I slowly pulled back, feeling the corona of his head pull out of my throat and back into my mouth. Dad was leaking like a faucet as I sucked and swallowed his precum instantly. The sloppy wet sound was jarring as I pulled all the way off to get another deep breath. Dad’s cock was dripping with a thick coat of spit as I held it from slapping against his stomach. My milking throat must have pulled his hood back around his head. And if it was even possible, his cock now looked even more beautiful, shimmering in the mellow light of the room. Dad and I grinned at each other as Dad flexed his cock. I pulled him back between my lips and I repeated my trick, making Dad groan in a low rumble. He ran one hand through my hair, pulling my bangs from my face, holding my curls back so he could watch my working lips and my watering eyes. I took him deep about four more times, but the deep-throating wasn’t the most comfortable for me. So I pulled back and started bobbing up and down, treating him to some loving tongue work over and under his hood as I fisted the rest of his spit-soaked length. I fellated Dad for a good five minutes before he couldn’t hold off any more. Dad’s eyes shut as his breath grew heavy, his hips starting to gently buck into my fist and mouth. I felt his cock begin to plump until he finally growled out my name and hot jets of fatherly sperm began pumping over my tongue. I moaned with delight, my fist milking his shaft with each spurt, drawing each one into my mouth. I savored each heavy volley before finally letting Dad’s custardy load slip into my throat. I gripped my own dick, stroking in time with Dad’s orgasm. I wasn’t ready to ejaculate, but I was in a sexual state and my touch felt good on my dick. After sucking him dry and licking up all he had to give, I finally pulled off him and watched his happy dick fall with a heavy slap against his waist. Dad relaxed his body and the hand caressing my hair let go. “You’re too good to me, Slugger,” he said. “Any time, Dad,” I said, licking my lips before wiping them with the back of my hand. Dad scooted up on the bed, throwing my pillow behind his lower back as he sat propped up against the wall with his calves now half hanging off the mattress. His prick still wet but sated, flopping to the right along his groin. “You got anything that will do for lube?” That caught me off guard. Dad had made it clear last time we wouldn’t be doing anal. But I got up and I rooted through my sock drawer and got the plastic bottle of the stuff out. I tossed it, and Dad easily caught it, examining the label. “Just curious what my son uses,” he winked. He widened his parted legs, one knee bent up, and patted the space between them. “Come lie back here,” he said, his fingers beckoning me into his arms. I started to get what he was suggesting, and it sounded perfect. It was the same position we reclined in during our first time there in my dorm room. I crawled onto the bed, turning around between Dad’s thick legs and rested my back against his large, powerful chest as his hairy arms wrapped around my body. His biceps bulged just under my pits as my calves rubbed against his shins. Dad said no kissing, and I guess he meant it, as I felt only his hot breath and stubbly jaw against the cook of my neck. His wide hands caressed my chest and traced my abs as I watched his fingers delve into my curly blond pubes. Unlike me, Dad’s right handed, and his palm latched onto my boner, his other hand slicking it with the lubricant and beginning a slow teasing with his fingers. I arched my back, feeling his massive, hairy pecs flex and firm against me. I turned my head, hoping for a kiss, but Dad kept his lips pressed into hair. I bit my lip and squirmed against his hairy warm body, maximizing the contact. I reached back, running my hands into Dad’s hair, massaging his scalp. I felt more than heard his soft chuckle against the back of my ear. “You like that, doncha’ Slugger?” “Yessir,” I grunted, then again as his fingers outright gripped me and started stroking. I whimpered softly as my other hand gripped his hairy, stroking forearm, feeling the muscles pop as his hands twisted around my shaft and over the head. Dad’s heavy breath against my ear mingled with the sounds of my own soft moans and the slick strokes of his jacking fist. Dad has a different technique than I use to masturbate, and at first I didn’t think it was going to work getting me off. I was too used to my own hand for masturbation. But I enjoyed the sensation and the emotional pull of being in his arms. And, as Dad’s arm sped up its motion, it clicked for me. A short circuit between my cock and nuts began to form. I gripped Dad’s hair as my legs rubbed excitedly against his and I knew this was going to get me to cum. “Unnfh,” I hissed, leaning back into Dad and arching my back, his one arm holding me tight against him. “That’s is, Jim,” Dad said softly, a deep-voiced mantra. “Go ahead… come for me buddy… Come into my hand….” Dad’s fingers ran over the excited nerves just under the head. “Dad…” I whimpered and I lost it. My semen spurted up all over my chest for a few volleys as Dad held my cock still, letting my feel each shot while chuckling in my ear. My body shook with light tremors as I came down, my shots slowing to a steady dribble, spilling into and over Dad’s now steadily stroking hand. He gave a soft laugh and patted me on the chest. “Nice one,” he said as his fingers began rubbing my own semen into my skin. “Beautiful, Jim,” he whispered. As Dad loosened his hold on me, I finally got up. Dad just grinned at me, my legs a little wobbly, as I grabbed my shower towel and went to get a wet washcloth. As he dressed, I could tell Dad felt guilty, now that we’d gotten off. Guiltier than before, even. He gave me a wistful look, like he wanted to say something. Kiss me — or tell me we couldn’t kiss, maybe he was feeling both. He was kind of silent as he stepped out to use the restroom. As I finished getting into some comfy sweats, I contemplated asking him what exactly changed this time. After he returned, Dad put his sweatshirt back on. As he gathered up his jacket, he spoke as if it were a normal weekday in a normal father and son’s life. “Great to see you, son. You played great out there. Always do.” I was still shirtless and I could see in his eyes he was fighting the urge to look at me. “Thanks, Dad,” I said as I stood between him and the door. “See you in a couple of weeks? I gotta travel for work next week, but I’ll be able to make it up after that.” “That’d be great Dad.” He gave me a quick pat on my shoulder and a soft, somewhat guilty smile. I nodded in affirmation before opening the dorm door for him. He gave me a fatherly nod. Then, he was gone. I was tired from the game and the sex, physically and emotionally, and I got ready for bed. As I was putting away my school work, I noticed the familiar shine of Dad’s dogtags among the cluttered stationary on my desk, the one’s he had given me when I was 7 years old – Desert Storm. I remember him kneeling down and wrapping them around my neck, making me promise to keep them safe. Dad was my hero. Even in this crazy, complicated sexual connection we had, I knew I couldn’t separate my attraction to him from the million other ways I looked up to and idolized the man. That confusion both fed my desire and made my emotions incredibly messy. I shut the lights off, the tags still clutched in my hand as I slid under the covers. The lights from the street still peered into the room as I spun the tags in my fingers, the ballchain pooling between my lightly furred pecs. I already missed him. And, yes, I did miss the kissing, but the sex had been incredible, almost as great as with the kissing. Almost. I knew I’d have to find a sexual outlet besides my father. Besides Holt, even. But it was great to learn more about myself sexually, to try new things. Yes, it sure as hell was unconventional, to say the least, to be learning with and from my father. But at another level, I was just a horny 19-year-old eager to experience sex to the fullest. I wrapped the dogtags around my neck, rolled over and went to sleep. ***** The inevitable came. Something was different the time in late March when Dad came to our game against Georgia Tech. I could istanbul travesti tell from his body language and the look in his eyes that we weren’t going to have sex afterward. Gone was the sly sexual energy and replaced with a quiet nervousness. We were seated at a table of a quiet restaurant and there was a noticeable absence of our usual banter and easy flow of conversation. I first thought maybe Dad’s quiet mood was about Paul. My brother had just told us he was moving to the Midwest. It turned out his wife, Megan, had gotten a job promotion which involved her relocating, and she was thrilled at the chance to be closer to her family. “You think Paul wants to move?” I asked. My big brother sounded laid-back and happy about it, but that’s how he dealt with everything. Dad nodded, barely looking up at me as he perused the menu. “Maybe a little nervous. But I think he wants to get out and really start his own life. Being in Norfolk, well, I don’t think he’s liked living in the shadow of the Navy.” I knew what Dad meant. Paul was certainly proud of Dad, we all were. Crazy proud. But my brother realized he didn’t have the school smarts to be Navy officer material or even to do well in business like John. He’s the only one of us who didn’t go to college. And while he wasn’t resentful, I think he felt out of step for a while. He loved being a cop, though, and the sense of purpose it gave him. Moving away would let Paul be Paul, not Robert McGrath’s boy. “Knowing Paul,” I said, “he’ll adapt pretty well.” Dad nodded. “You’re probably right. I’ll miss having him around, but I’m sure he’ll do well out in Kansas City.” So I thought Dad was just being moody because of my brother. But as we wrapped up dinner, Dad dropped the bombshell. “Slugger, I’ve started dating somebody.” He sat still across from me and watched my reaction as he let the news sink in. My brow raised up in surprise as I looked at Dad’s serious countenance, but I soon looked away as I felt old feelings begin to bubble to the surface. “Her name’s Nicole,” he continued. “Nothing serious, at least not yet, but I felt like I had to get back out there.” “Yeah,” I said quietly, feeling dejected. “You should.” It was hard to say, but I knew Dad needed a relationship, something normal. What he and I were doing sure as fuck didn’t count. He gave me a slightly pained expression then added, “I waited while you boys were growing up. Now you’re off at college.” “I wish you didn’t feel like you had to wait until I was gone. I would have been OK with it.” I wanted to believe my words, I really did. But after what I had been feeling… I think he needed to believe my words more than I did. “You mean, like you’re being OK with it now?” he rebuked me, a little harshly. It was now my turn to look at him perturbed, like this was somehow my fault. Damn, we were acting like a couple breaking up. His eyes softened, then he corrected himself. “Sorry Jimbo, I’ve not done right by you lately, but I’m ready to date again. Understand?” “Yeah, Dad,” I said impatiently, huffing as I sat back in my seat. “I said you should get out there.” He looked at me askance. I’d said the right things, but he knew I didn’t believe them. Not fully, not deep down. I was jealous. Only this time, it wasn’t some cute, muscled groomsman stealing my dad’s attention, but a woman. And I didn’t know if I could compete with that. “I hope this doesn’t keep you from coming to visit this summer,” Dad said in his paternal tone. Holt and I had signed a lease for our place for next year. And I had the summer ahead of me to spend working on batting and conditioning. “Don’t worry, Dad, I’ll be down.” I was telling the truth this time. ***** I tried dating women. Well, I guess, technically I did date women. Ultimately, I would twice during college. The first time was at the end of my freshman year, right after Dad told me about his new girlfriend. I wasn’t consciously trying to imitate Dad, but I was starting to freak out about what being in the closet would mean for my future in baseball. I thought I should give a heterosexual lifestyle a try. I knew I had enough of a bi streak to perform with women and had done it before. Having a girlfriend would certainly make life easier. Kristen Alford was a friend of my teammate Ryan’s girlfriend, and she and I kind of got set up on a double date in April. Kristen and I hit it off pretty well. She was fun-loving and outgoing, and clearly into me – a sophomore sorority girl, pretty, with big breasts, nice curves, and blue eyes with dyed blond hair. So for four solid weeks until the end of semester, I went through the motions, going on dates, making out with her in my dorm room, and one night after a party we’d both attended together, as a couple, Kristen and I had sex. Even if I could respond sexually to women, particularly one as hot as Kristen, fucking her was like an out of body experience. I kept comparing the experience and sensations to my time with men. Some things about it were easier, for sure, but I felt like I had to be restrained. And yeah, while the act was pleasurable enough, I conjured the experience of an older man, fucking him or him fucking me, to get off. I tried to tell Kristen that I wasn’t sure about anything serious, but truth be told I did string her along. She wanted to go steady and visit each other over the summer, and I acquiesced. The long distance thing was easy enough, and it made it easier having all the guys on the team thinking I had a girlfriend. It was actually September before I broke up with her, coming up with some excuse about how I wasn’t feeling it anymore. I won’t flatter myself to say she was devastated, but she was clearly disappointed, and I felt like a heel. Particularly because I benefited from it all. I got a little guff from Ryan’s girlfriend for a while, but in general dating Kristen was the best thing that could have happened to my reputation. From then on, guys might ask me about who I was dating or interested in dating, but basically I gained the reputation as the serious, romantic guy on the team, not a player who liked to score with lots of girls. ***** Surprisingly, or maybe unsurprisingly, regular sex with a woman made me hornier for men. I took Holt up on a couple of BJ offers, including a much-needed one during finals week. Beyond that, I jerked off daily, at least when I got a moment’s privacy, thinking of Dad, or just any man really. When Tim told me he was going home to see his family one Friday evening at the end of the semester, I was inwardly elated. Holt was out of town too, so no Bulldozer Specials. But I could have some nice long edge sessions instead, maybe with multiple cums. I hadn’t had one of those in a while. So that Friday afternoon I got back to the dorm room from our home game against Charlotte. Even on the walk home, I started to chub out anticipating my masturbation session, and I hoped I could get back to my room before I was throwing hard. Back in my room, I stripped down, took a seat at my desk, and fired up my computer. Like every dude, I had a stash of porn, and I had started curating a folder of my favorites. There was one pic that was my favorite lately, a built guy in his 20s, young looking, with a clean-cut jock look but probably five to ten years older than me. He was smooth, mostly, with a dusting of light brown fuzz on his abs, leading to his hairy crotch. He was reclined on his back, looking at me through the screen as he lifted his legs, one higher than the other. His cock was nice, but even better was the sight of his spread furry thighs, showing off a tight pucker. My cock was boned, full on now. I stroked it slowly, gently enough to work it up to an even firmer hardness, but not in a rush to go anywhere. Best part of having the room to myself. I stared at his inviting hole and felt my tongue push out between my lips. I wondered what it would be like to have a bottom dude like this guy on a regular basis, to be able to unload into him every night, hear him beg for my fat, 8-inch cock. I thought of the men I’d banged: Kevin, Charlie, and especially Glen, my married, Navy, Norfolk fuck buddy. I missed the intensity and the chemistry we had. My dick was leaking now unto my stroking fingertips. I clicked on another pic and enlarged it. A football coach at another university. I’d seen his picture online and saved it. He was dressed in shorts and a snug T-shirt. Coach Stan Ferguson. I felt up my chest, imagining Coach Ferguson’s hands, appreciating my growth, telling me what a stud I was. I smoothed the leaking clear sap dripping from my pissslit and lubed up my thick cock with it. “I wanna fuck you, Coach,” I muttered aloud, relishing the freedom to do so. It felt like practice for the kind of heated sex talk I’d had with Glen Evans. I spoke again, louder. “I wanna bone your hairy daddy ass and shoot you full of my jizz.” My hand was working my prick faster and I felt the familiar start of telltale orgasm contractions. Immediately, I let go, letting my rod jerk and sway from my crotch. My nuts tingled as I ran my callused fingers along the sensitive sac. “Bet you’d like that, huh, Stan? My big fat cock splitting your hard horny ass open. Hungry fucking daddy hole.” More sap dripped out. I opened a picture of another man. Burlier, barrel chested, thinning hair, dark complexion. Huge cock erect but almost weighed down by its size. He leaned back in his bed, legs spread, almost beckoning me to come sit on his lap, ease myself down on that monster. I stroked myself once again, and once more I was on ejaculation’s doorstep within a couple of minutes, so I stopped. “Fuck,” I growled, frustrated as hell but loving the long self-pleasuring session. “I’d come so hard on your chest, sir.” I thought of him pumping into me as I sat on his lap, those mitts of his holding my trim waist, lifting me up and down on his massive rod, stretching open my jock hole. For some reason, something made me think of Uncle Jack’s officer fuckbuddy. Rear Admiral Bill Henson. I’d met him only briefly but I remembered my initial impressions. His strong, stocky build, his strong handshake, his penetrating stare that made my skin break out in goose pimples as I remembered it. I wondered if the Admiral would want to fuck me. But there was another Navy officer who I knew would turn me on more. I clicked on my computer again. I pulled open another folder. One of Dad. Snapshots we had and some official Navy portraits of him in his uniform from a few years back. “I want to suck your dick, Dad,” I whispered now. “I want your big fucking cock shooting in my mouth.” I barely touched my dick, just a little tug. Immediately, my toes curled as I tensed, falling back into my chair as my voice and breath caught in my throat. Hot white seed spurted all over me, from my chin and neck, down the valley between my pecs and finally pooling on my stomach. The sperm kept coming as I felt an intense relief. I let go of my dick, catching my breath as I waited for my brain to reboot. I felt silly, now coming down from my orgasm and staring at an enlarged picture of my father, in his dress whites and officer’s cap. But I was still horny and knew I’d be working up another load later that night. I leaned back and let the cool air dry the cum on my body as I clicked through more pictures in my folder.

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