Quillon's Covert (13 page)

Marty swallowed and shook his head, the self-consciousness clear on his face. “I’ve thought ’bout this…so many times.” His son paused and closed his eyes.

“You good, Buddy?”

Marty nodded at the concern in Martin’s voice, then looked him in the eye again.

“Bringing myself off night after night, imagining this moment...you, hard inside of me…all those years.”

Martin pressed his lips to Marty’s forehead. “Shh,” he said softly. “No need for words.”

Marty shook his head, determined. “Just can’t believe...tha-a-at you wuh-want me too.”

Martin’s hips eased backward and then slid forward again. His son’s lips parted in pleasure but his gaze remained fixed on Martin. Even though he was careful not to give Marty too much of him at once, satisfaction coursed through him as the uncertainty in his son’s kind eyes was replaced with lust.

“Is that proof enough for you?”

He ran a hand up Marty’s lightly furred chest and rested a thumb on one of his nipples. Pulling his dick nearly completely out before slowly sliding it back in, he began circling the hard, sensitive nub. “You’re giving me something so special. You’re my son, I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.” He kissed Marty's temple lightly as he entered him again, this time burying himself to the hilt while watching Marty for any sign of discomfort. “I’ll always be thankful that you’ve shared this with me.”

Martin replaced his thumb with calloused fingers and lightly pinched Marty’s nipple. The sound it elicited forced yet more blood into his already straining cock. Martin pushed in with slightly more force.

“No more talk about the outside world, or what you can’t believe. Got it?”

Marty closed his eyes and sucked in a breath as Martin once again retreated, then nodded slowly. “Got it.”

He pulled harder on Marty’s nipple and felt his son’s ass clench around his buried cock. He pushed back in, with purpose, wanting to feel Marty’s body jar against his force.

His son’s head fell back and his thick chest began to heave under Martin’s finger. “Oh. My. God. Jesus, Dad!”

“Spread your legs, let me see your dick. I want to see what feeling my cock inside does to you.”

Martin lightened his thrusts, easing in and out with a slow, languid pace. As Marty spread his legs, revealing his own hardness, he abandoned the hard nipple and took hold of his son’s foreskin.

“Damn, it’s really long; it covers your head completely even when you’re fully hard.”

Marty moaned as Martin gently pulled the skin up farther.

“I love playing with it…I call it my elephant’s trunk...” Marty’s words caught in his throat as Martin moved his dick over his son’s prostate. “Oh God, feels so good.”

Martin smiled. “So, elephant’s trunk, huh? Has it always been longer? I don’t remember noticing it before.”

He watched as Marty turned his face slightly away. “Wait, are you blushing?” Amused, Martin quirked an eyebrow as he pushed back in. “I don’t believe it, we can have sex—we are having sex—but talking about it makes you blush?”

“Whatever,” Marty responded as the color in his stubbled cheeks grew darker. “No, I like to tug on it—a lot. I’m probably addicted to tugging it—”

Martin pulled all the way out, relishing the feeling of Marty’s long skin between his fingers, before sliding back in.

Marty’s head turned into the bedding, and Martin couldn’t help but grin in satisfaction when his son’s teeth grabbed the pillowcase and bit down. Soft
Mm-hmms
, and
yeeeses
, and
ohmigods
followed.

A broad smile played on his lips. “You feel like you might be addicted because?”

“Huh?” Marty asked, releasing his hold on the pillow as Martin eased back.

Martin playfully chided a reminder as he slipped all the way out again. “Your trunk? Addicted?”

Marty’s lustful eyes cut up to his. “You’re doing that on purpuh-puh-pose.”

Leaning forward, Martin grazed his lips against the corner of Marty’s mouth, and asked innocently, “Doin’ what? Makin’ you feel good?”

Marty’s head turned and his teeth grabbed Martin's lower lip. He momentarily held Martin in place, until he slid over his son’s prostate again.

“Talkin’ to me…while you’re doing that…so you can watch me lose my concentration…and my mind,” he huffed without any true heat behind it.

Picking up the earlier thread, he answered with a shudder, as Martin moved his hips slowly, “I pull on it whenever I can.”

Martin found the sweet spot again and prodded his cock over it in soft glides; enjoying the trembling effect it had on Marty’s entire body. “Go on, Naughty Boy, I’m listening.”

Marty nodded and Martin watched as his throat bobbed a few times before he finally continued. “I guess…it started a few years ago on the school bus…to and from school.” Marty inhaled deeply, letting the breath out slowly. “Then it expanded to while I was in class. After that, I started getting a charge out of secretly doing it when I was around other people. Sitting in the backseat of the car, with you and Mom up front. Taking Buster out at night for his walks through our neighborhood. Standing in line at McDonalds…just whenever I thought I could get away with it. Why do you think I started wearing those baggy basketball shorts all the time? Easy access. After a while it started to stretch and I began to wonder how long I could get it.”

He reached down to take hold of his straining dick and Martin swatted his hand away. “I’ve got this.”

“Bossy much?”

Martin deliberately brushed over his prostate again and tugged at Marty’s skin. “I’m your father, it’s my job to be bossy,” he husked into his son’s ear.

When Marty caught his breath, he continued, “Well, just so you know, I’m not interested in some kinky father-son role-playing. There are things I’d like to try, but that’s not one of them.”

Martin couldn’t help but chuckle. “I hate to break it to you, Catfish, but we
are
father and son.”

Marty tilted his head back and moaned as Martin picked up the pace again.

“What sorta things do you want to try?”

“Hmm? Oh, well, I hear the noises Mom sometimes makes. What do you do to her? ’Cause whatever it is...”

Martin stilled for just a moment at the mention of Allie’s name. Then letting go of Marty’s foreskin, he snaked his hand down and clasped his nuts. Pulling slightly, he let them go and then did it again, and then again.

“Whatever we do, I assure you it’s mutually pleasurable. But you didn’t answer my question. What do you want to try?”

Marty panted. “I’d like to do that spanking thing again, if that’d be okay…” He reached behind and placed a hand on Martin’s butt and squeezed.

It tickled him how his son valiantly fought to keep a consistent train of thought, but to his credit, he
did
keep returning to their previous conversation.

“…and, you know, allow myself to really enjoy it this time. The spanking, I mean. If that’s not too weird?”

That spanking had occupied more of Martin’s thoughts than he would have ever admitted—until now. “That’d be…yeah, I’d like that too,” he agreed, still somewhat hesitantly.

However, he couldn’t deny the way his dick surged inside Marty at the thought of his son’s adult form bent over his knee, and he pushed his cock harder into Marty’s ass.

“Dad? Oh God, you’re squeezing my nuts…kinda huh-huh-hurts, but in a really good way.”

That was all it took to push Martin to the edge. He unleashed on Marty’s ass, giving into the need to thrust unrestrained. His son responded with a series of repeated, unintelligible moans as his fingers tangled into the sheets. One thing was painfully clear, Marty was enjoying himself, and that meant everything to Martin.

“Stroke your dick, Son. I wanna see you shoot when I come inside you.”

“Do me harder?” he begged through clenched teeth.

When Martin complied, Marty got no more than a few strokes in before his dick spasmed and erupted onto his heaving stomach.

Several moments later, after Martin had made good on his promise to shoot inside of him, they lay quietly as he ran his fingers through his son’s spunk.

“There was a time I would’ve thought this was…kind of gross. But now…”

“Mmm. Feels nice.” His son’s voice was sated and rough. “And I love that you’re still hard.” As if to prove the point, Marty pushed his pelvis back onto Martin’s dick, driving it farther into him.

Martin curved his hand down and caught Marty’s skin. “I’m not the only one.”

His son smiled. “No, you’re not.”

Marty pulled his head around and brought his lips to Martin’s. Initially, it had been the kissing, of all things, which had wigged Martin out the most. Turns out, it was now one of his favorite things to do.

Marty broke the kiss but didn’t move away, and Martin saw the familiar twinkle that always pulled at his insides. “That was the best first time in the history of first times. Thank you. It’s something I’ll remuh-muh-member forever.”

Martin plunged forward, driving his tongue into Marty’s mouth and sought out every hidden crevice. When he finally admitted defeat, realizing he’d never find them all, he reluctantly pulled back leaving Marty dazed and breathless.

“I love you, Martin Junior. You’re more than welcome.” With a slight shove of his cock, he winked. “You ready for round three yet?”

Marty grinned. “Bring it on, Old Man! But, could you put the baseball cap back on? You’re too fucking sexy for words in it.”

Martin reached behind him, snagged the hat, and placed it on backwards. “In that case, I may never take the damn thing off again.”

Chapter 7 – Freakiness Strengthens the Bond

Martin / 40

The sun felt good against Martin’s skin. But it didn’t compare to the other sensation he was enjoying; his son’s head resting in his lap. Marty’s fear—actually, phobia—about sucking dick had taken some time to work through. For Marty, that is, not for Martin. Martin had long ago accepted that he wouldn’t know the pleasure of his son’s tight, moist, warm throat squeezing around his cock, and he was completely okay with that. Not that Martin didn’t want to experience Marty’s nose pressed into his pubes. No, he burned to know that feeling, but he’d accepted it wasn’t going to happen. Marty, on the other hand, desperately wanted to do the one thing he physically couldn’t. Though Martin wasn’t convinced it was purely physical; Marty’s fear of choking extended to completely illogical food items, such as thick liquids, like milkshakes.

Ripples formed along Marty’s sunken lower torso and Martin watched as minnows darted out from under the dock, where he sat with his feet dangling at his son’s sides, and nipped at Marty’s skin. Occasionally Marty would laugh as a rambunctious fish nibbled at his nuts or long foreskin.

Martin cast another line out as his son’s cheek ran along his hard length. Marty being able to do even that spoke volumes about his son and his budding relationship with his latest boyfriend, Andrew.

“How’s my son-in-law?”

He watched and gave a small shiver as Marty’s tongue slid up the underside of his shaft and then captured the slick drop at Martin’s head.

Marty closed his lust filled eyes a moment before reopening them only to stare longingly at Martin’s cock. “He’s not your son-in-law, yet. Andrew and I have only been dating a year…nowhere close to getting married,” he husked in a distracted undertone.

Marty pushed his nose into the crook of Martin’s leg, wedging itself between his inner thigh and his nuts, and breathed deeply. “God, I love your smell, Dad.”

Truth be told, Martin loved how Marty could spend hours with his face buried in his crotch. He ran his thick fingers through his son’s sandy-blond curls. Petting him, enjoying him, enjoying
this
.

“He’s been…good for you, Marty.”

Blue-gray eyes looked up at him, his son’s thickly stubbled cheek again resting alongside Martin’s shaft. When Marty raised his eyebrows in question, Martin nodded down to his dick.

“Oh, that.” Marty’s tentative eyes focused on his furry belly button. “Does it worry you…that I’m having sex with him?”

Martin ran a finger over the raised eyebrow. “Not at all. You need someone who’ll be there for you all of the time, not just a few weeks out of the year. Someone you don’t have to hide.

When his son opened his mouth to interject, Martin added, “Not to take my place, unless that’s what you need to be happy. But rather someone who can return the kind of love you deserve. Who can love you the same way you love him.”

After a few moments, Marty simply nodded. “You know I’ll always love you, right? I mean in the exact way you’re talking about. In a
I-want-to-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-you
way. I hope you realize you’re not just a…fill-in, until I find someone.” He broke off and rested his lips against the tender part of Martin’s hairy thigh. A few beats later, his son’s eyes met his. “I understand that’s not going to happen; that we’ll never live as a couple. I’ve accepted it, and Andrew and I have begun dating exclusively…and I think maybe I could love him, someday. But, I’m hopeful we can always have this. You have Mom, and you love her, but you still find a way to share this with me. If this—what we have now—continues until we’re both senior citizens, long after I’m married, too, I’d be very happy.”

With some effort, Martin swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “Got it.” He paused and cleared his cracking voice. “You think I’m all that and a bag of chips.”

“Pretty much,” Marty said with a wink.

Lifting his eyes, Martin looked out over the peaceful lake and decided he’d ask a question that had been on his mind since last year. “So we’ve talked about my feelings toward Andrew, but I’m wondering how you…I don’t know…deal with seeing your mother and me together? Does it bother you? Do you ever feel guilty?”

Marty’s fingers, which had been caressing the outsides of Martin’s thighs, stilled. When Marty didn’t respond right away he looked down. Marty seemed lost in thought as he rested his chin on one of Martin’s furry knees, and Martin wondered if he should’ve kept his curiosity to himself.

“No,” Marty began at length, “I don’t feel guilty.” He looked up and met Martin’s interested gaze. “What I mean is, I look at the cabin, at our time here, as a bubble—and I’ve thought about it in those terms for years.”