Quillon's Covert (15 page)

Read Quillon's Covert Online

Authors: Joseph Lance Tonlet,Louis Stevens

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, oh-my-fucking-god!” he chanted. “Please don’t stop, Dad, I’m so close.”

Martin had no intention of stopping. He pushed Marty’s back away from his body, keeping a tight grip on his curls, and watched his cock plunge into his son’s ass over and over.

“Oooh Dad, riiiight there! Yes, yes… Right there… Don’t stop… Please don’t…
Arrrgh! Fuuuuck!

Although Martin couldn’t see his son’s orgasm, Marty’s ass squeezing his cock left little doubt of it. Martin released Marty’s head, grabbed both his hips, and fucked his son like never before. When release thundered through him moments later, it was immediately followed by utter joy and contentment. With his hips still spasming, his sensitive cock still sliding in Marty’s warmth, he laughed.

Marty groaned as he tried to roll his muscled shoulders. “Jesus H. Christ,” he sighed as Martin undid the rope’s knot. “That was…fuck, Dad. Not that I don’t enjoy every time, and I wouldn’t want every time to be like this, but goddamn that was
really
good.”

Martin grinned widely and tore the Velcro straps away freeing Marty’s wrists. “It really was, wasn’t it?” He paused for a second. “But was it too much of—”

Marty had bent down, snagged two bottles out of the cooler, and passed one to Martin before plopping down on the tarp. “It wasn’t too much of anything,” he panted before tipping the Lemonade up and draining the entire bottle.

When Martin sat down next to him, cross-legged, Marty swung his body around, and his head instantly fell into Martin’s lap. His sated blue-gray eyes looked up, and Martin brushed a hand across his son’s forehead, pushing the sweat drenched curls back.

“Dad’s gotta little freak in him, whaddayaknow.”

Martin barked out a laugh and took a long swallow of cold beer. “I blame any and all freakiness on you, Super Freak.”

Marty / 20

 

Just as they always did the day before heading back, they’d both woken up subdued. The impending reality which slowly intruded on their cabin world felt like beating drums of war on their serene escape from real-life, demanding they rejoin the world of normalcy, and it was devastating every time.

In an effort to diffuse the heavy atmosphere that filled the cabin, Martin started roughhousing with Marty soon after they both stirred. His dad hadn’t even given Marty the chance to relieve himself of his morning wood before their hard dicks swayed between them, like two spears trying to leave lasting marks on their targets.

Now they lay on the double bed, chests heaving, sheets tangled around their bodies, grinning at one another.

“Either you’re getting better at wrestling, or I’m getting older,” Martin said after catching his breath.

“Maybe—” Marty started with a mischievous tone, but fell silent when Martin pulled him close, folding a strong arm securely around him.

“How’s your butt?” His dad’s voice was still heavy with sleep, and Marty enjoyed its gravelly timbre.

He snugged an arm around Martin’s torso and rested his head on his father’s shoulder. “Still a bit tender.”

Martin didn’t say anything, but Marty caught the smug smile plastered across his dad’s face, and it spoke volumes.

“Tell me something,” Martin said softly.

Marty waited for him to continue.

“What did you enjoy most about the spanking yesterday?”

“Um, I think that’s fairly obvious: the end,” Marty joked. But after studying his dad’s genuine expression, he decided to be more candid. “I haven’t allowed myself to really think about it much.”

“You should.”

“Why? Have you?”

Martin nodded. “So you honestly don’t know what you enjoyed most?”

“No, I know exactly, it just…scares me a little.”

“You don’t scare easily. But if you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.”

Marty had to laugh at the cheesy line, but it helped ease the tension his dad’s unexpected question had spurred. “Why do I have to go first when it’s your question?” He turned his face into his father’s chest and closed his teeth down in a playful bite. “That doesn’t seem fair at all.”

Martin’s body rumbled with a quiet laugh.

Marty snuggled back in and decided he’d answer. “Giving up control; more specifically, giving up control to you.”

“You enjoyed that?”

Marty nodded.

“Why does that scare you, then?”

Marty squeezed his eyes shut, then pressed his face into Martin’s chest again. “I guess…it just added another layer to…what we already have. I mean, like I said out on the dock, I don’t want to ever lose this.”

“Buddy,” Martin said softly and kissed the top of Marty’s head. “I know we’ve never talked about this outside of the cabin, but I just assumed—”

“Assumed that I was fine with not knowing if this will suddenly stop?” Marty interrupted quietly as his fingers threaded through Martin’s chest hair.

Martin increased the grip and pulled Marty tighter to him.

“I assumed,” Martin continued, “I’d made things clear. But apparently I haven’t and I apologize; make no mistake, Junior, I want this to continue as long as you want it to.”

The fact his father didn’t want this to end gave Marty a great deal of comfort. He’d assumed as much, but without Martin coming right out and saying so, he’d been left to second-guess things.

“It’s enough for you, then, the two weeks a year?”

Martin’s hand, which had been running the length of Marty’s spine, stilled. He was quiet several moments before answering.

“Honest?”

Marty nodded.

“No, it’s not. But if I look at it realistically, and believe me, I’ve thought about it a lot, the only other options are…complicated.”

Martin schooched out from under Marty and sat up, Indian style, at Marty’s side. Marty rolled over onto his back and stared up at his father, waiting for him to continue.

Martin’s fingers followed Marty’s treasure trail up and came to a rest on his chest, and then squeezed the pec beneath it. “You’ve turned into a man right before my eyes, Marty. A grown man, in college, seriously dating an awesome guy, and you have your entire life in front of you.”

Martin slowly ran a hand back down his torso, feeling each of the muscles Marty had worked so hard over the years to develop.

“I’ve seen the way Andrew looks at you. There’s no doubt he loves you. And you said you thought you might be able to love him too, right?”

Marty hadn’t admitted it to his father yet—hell, he’d just admitted it to himself during this trip—but he already loved Andrew. It wasn’t the same way he loved Martin, but he honestly doubted he’d ever love anyone the way he loved his dad.

“Yes,” he answered simply.

Martin smiled down at him. “Good. And I meant what I said, all I’ve ever wanted for you is to have someone love you the way you love me. Could I give that to you? I honestly don’t know. I know there was a time I was certain I couldn’t, now though…”

He watched his dad take a deep breath and swallow.

“But, it would only complicate things if it turns out I can. Would you leave Andrew? Could I leave Allie—the person, next to you—who I love most in this world?”

His dad sighed.

“And even if all of that were possible; me giving you the kind of love you need, you being able to give me what I need, me living my life without my beloved Allie in it, and you bringing yourself to leave Andrew. Then what? The world would see us as… As what? Our family and our lives would be irrevocably altered…and we’d have no choice but to hide. To give up everything, start a new life, and still have to hide our…relationship.”

Marty ran a hand over his dad’s strong knee. Everything, absolutely everything, his father was saying Marty had thought about countless times over the years. Right down to the new addition of Andrew in his life.

He and Andrew had met by complete chance at a coffee shop near campus. Somehow their drinks had gotten mixed up, and each ended up with the others’. Things had progressed fast between them, and six months after they’d met, they were moving in together.

Andrew was just as his dad described him—an awesome guy. He was kind and patient, had a wicked sense of humor, and was probably the most intelligent person Marty had ever met. Like crazy brainiac smart. Even though they were the same age, Andrew was two years ahead of him in college and was getting ready to graduate with a degree in some kinda numbers shit Marty still didn’t understand completely. The fact that Andrew was also amazing in bed, aside from a slight rhythm problem that Marty was sure they’d overcome, didn’t hurt either.

And here his father was, laying out all the same concerns he himself had mulled over countless times, so succinctly. And it wasn’t just the articulation with which he’d done it, but that he’d thought of any of it at all. It floored Marty and gave him a tremendous sense of calm at the same time. In that moment, he knew he and Martin would be good, for life.

“Dad?”

Martin seemed pensive and had grown quiet. He was drawing circles in the hair around Marty’s bellybutton with his index finger, and his brows were pulled together slightly.

“Yeah, Lefty?” he answered at length.

Marty wanted to convey both his understanding of their situation, and also his acceptance of the limitations their worlds held. “What if we thought about breaking the two weeks up? Maybe do one in the summer and one in the winter?”

His father’s face instantly relaxed and he closed his eyes. After a brief nod, he said, “I think that’s a great idea, Son.”

When Martin opened his eyes, the casual contentment Marty was used to seeing had returned.

“Cool. So…” Marty said with a grin, “while we’re in a sharing kinda mood, be honest. Andrew pisses you off, doesn’t he? Just admit it.”

“He doesn’t,” Martin reflexively answered.

Marty didn’t say anything but quirked a brow and smiled.

“Okay, maybe he does...a tiny bit. He’s just all charm and
boy-next-door
. And, he’s so damn attractive. But it’s kinda normal for dads not to like their kids’ partners, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Marty conceded, still smiling, “but dads aren’t generally fucking their kids. And, I also think part of why you don’t like him is because he gets to have his way with me any time he wants.”

“Jesus, Martin Junior. Why do you have to be so crass?” Martin reached down and grabbed hold of Marty’s ample foreskin. With a tug, he chided, “Sometimes you make me regret the day I ever started talking dirty to you.”

Marty laughed and tucked his pelvis in, pulling his skin free from Martin’s fingers. “Ahh, but you love me anyway.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve said it before, we all have our crosses to bear.”

Marty cocked his head. “Hey, you never told me what scared you about the spanking yesterday.”

“That’s easy. It’s the thought of experiencing something so incredible and not knowing if that would be the only time. Seems like that’s not something I should be concerned about, huh?” Martin lay back down, pulled Marty into him, and pecked his temple. As was always the case these days, even the most innocent hug or kiss was laden with amorous undertones. The small brush of Martin’s lips turned into a lingering kiss, which evolved into a heavy petting session. Martin trailed kisses down Marty’s cheek and then up his ear to nibble his Quillon nodule.

Just as Marty was really getting into it, Martin pulled away and panted. “If we don’t get out of this bed, we won’t get the dock finished before we leave tomorrow.”

Although Marty knew in the back of his mind Martin was right, his dick yearned for more attention.

“You’re always leaving me hard and fucking drippy, Old Man.”

Martin laughed, grabbed his ball cap, and pushed himself off the bed. “Hmm, that’s not a bad thing to be remembered for. But, if it’s any consolation, I do have something special planned for tonight.”

There was a glint in his dad’s eye that experience told him was mischief, and nothing was more fun than a mischievous Martin.

 

 

They’d replaced all the surface boards of the dock, sanded and sealed them, and now sat on the porch, staring at their handiwork in the dwindling light.

It’d been a long day, and Marty stretched his tired muscles. “The dock looks good,” he said after taking a long pull off his bottle of Hard Lemonade.

“It really does, doesn’t it? It’s getting dark, though…can barely see it. We’ll need to either start a fire or move inside.”

Marty perked up. His gaze trailed down Martin’s center and, predictably, landed on his dad’s crotch. “Yeah, it’s getting late,” he agreed. With a smile he added, “And, if I’m not mistaken, you mentioned something about a surprise?”

Martin took a long pull of his own bottle and then answered at length. “Remember when you asked what Mom and I did that made her loud sometimes? How about you grab a shower and meet me inside?”

Marty tipped up his bottle of Hard Lemonade, pushed himself off his deck chair, and grinned. “You got it.”

He headed down to the shower alone, since Martin had taken his while Marty had been cleaning up the tools and stowing them in the shed.

He replayed his father’s words over in his mind as he stood under the cool water:
What he and Mom did
. Marty had no idea what Martin had in mind—what his dad did to make his mom moan so loudly—but every graze of the washcloth over his dick ratcheted his anticipation up even higher.

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