going to his friend's house since that time, insisting that Randy come
over to his house or they go to some neutral territory, like the mall.
He only saw Randy's dad one other time since that humiliating evening,
and that was at the high school graduation ceremony. But he thought of
Mr. McClinney often, with conflicting feelings of arousal and hatred.
"Randy has a girlfriend," Mr. McClinney--Chuck--was saying. "She's
supposed to fly back with him."
The news was like a fist slammed into Wyler's gut. "Oh. Um, he mentioned
he had a surprise. Guess ... that was it."
Mr. McClinney toyed absent-mindedly with the sash of his robe. His right
leg bounced, as if it was seized by some rogue neural impulse. Part of
his nut sack got exposed. Look at the face, Wyler reminded himself,
taking a huge swallow of his beer.
"Yeah, he's known this girl about four months or so. Sounds pretty
serious. Just hope he's not rushing into anything. You're smart not to
get yourself tied down."
Randy's dad had taken on a different tone. His voice had softened, and
there was some other quality Wyler couldn't define, one that made him
apprehensive all the same.
"I guess I never really had much use for women myself," Chuck said
off-hand, finishing off his beer and still fiddling with the sash of his
robe. "There was Randy's mother, of course, but ... well, other than
giving us Randy, that was a mistake." Mrs. McClinney had left her
husband a week after Randy started college. "She seems happier now.
Maybe I can ..." His voice trailed off. Wyler didn't know what to say.
He was unprepared for dealing with this thoughtful, introspective
version of his friend's dad.
The sash of Chuck's robe came untied and the robe came apart, though Mr.
McClinney's dick remained hidden. Randy's dad remedied that by pulling
the robe open, exposing his massive dick--his massive, growing dick.
Wyler nearly dropped his beer. He looked away quickly, fixating on
titles in the bookcase on the far wall. He was sure the pounding of his
heart could be heard across the room.
"Look over here," Chuck said. Cautiously, Wyler looked back at Randy's
dad. He'd made no effort to cover himself. His cock was semi-hard now.
"It's OK. You can look." Wyler felt his own dick squirming in his
shorts. Was this moment going where he thought it was going? And did he
want it to go there? "Come over here." Wyler was halfway across the den
before he realized he was aiding and abetting Mr. McClinney's seduction.
"Closer," he urged. Wyler stood directly in front of him, his shins
touching the upholstery of the chair. The hair of Chuck's legs brushed
against his calves, causing goose bumps to erupt on Wyler's limbs. Wyler
looked at the solid planes and angles of Mr. McClinney's handsome face.
Beneath his mustache was a slight smile; in his gray eyes, anticipation
Wyler was afraid, too, and shivered when Chuck (*might as well be on a
first-name basis now*, Wyler thought dryly) touched his thigh. "Remember
the last time you were over?" Chuck asked softly. Wyler gulped and
nodded. His hands began to move up his thighs, beneath the hem of his
shorts. "When I caught you staring. I know now I wasn't very nice then."
One hand crawled up further, finding its way underneath Wyler's boxers
and gliding along the curve of his butt cheek. Wyler's lower lip
trembled and his eyelids fluttered. His cock was rock-hard.
"I wasn't mad at you, really," Chuck said, his voice a dry whisper.
"More mad at myself, and confused, even at my age. Guess we were both
confused." Obviously Mrs. McClinney left her husband for reasons beyond
his being an arrogant prick. "Can we be ... friends?" he asked,
squeezing Wyler's ass.
Wyler couldn't answer. So many thoughts raced in his mind he couldn't
express any of them. Chuck withdrew his hands from under his shorts and
brought them to Wyler's waist. Gently, he pulled his son's friend down
to where he sat. Wyler's knees buckled and he collapsed on top of him.
They kissed. The experience was simultaneously awkward and exhilarating
as their tongues clumsily pushed into each other's mouths. Chuck's hands
pulled at Wyler's T-shirt, and he pushed his hips upward, making sure
Wyler felt his now-stiff cock through his shorts. Wyler's touch was more
tentative, like he feared being scolded if his hands moved below Chuck's
But Chuck was pushing him lower down into the crevice between his pecs,
down the ridges of his abdomen, his face grating across the coarse hairs
covering his torso. As Wyler slid down to the floor, Chuck pulled off
Wyler's T-shirt. By the time Wyler was shirtless, his face was at
Fully erect, Chuck's cock was nearly nine inches. Thick veins curled up
the shaft and pulsed, the plump head throbbed. Already, a little bead of
pre-cum was forming at the slit. Wyler reached for it, looking up at
Chuck as he did so, as if asking permission to touch the man's fat cock.
Chuck said nothing. Wyler circled his fingers around the girth of the
turgid shaft. As he suspected, his fingers did not meet. The skin of
Chuck's dick was smooth and warm. Chuck--his best friend's dad--closed
his eyes and slowly exhaled.
Wyler leaned forward and--as he'd done with Chris, the cute sophomore in
his English lit class, and as he'd done with that "drunken" frat guy
during a homecoming party--took the large, hard cock between his lips
and into the warm depths of his mouth. The thick tool filled it, the
cock-head pushing against the roof. Though he'd managed to swallow the
cocks of both the cute sophomore and the "inebriated" frat guy, that
wouldn't be possible with Chuck's massive rod. At best, he managed
three-quarters of it. This seemed OK with Mr. McClinney, who moaned
softly and stroked Wyler's curly locks as the young man's mouth moved up
and down his dick at an even pace.
Wyler's cock pulsated in his shorts. While he slurped on Chuck's prick,
his hands pulled at his zipper, desperate to free his own dick. Once it
was pulled from his shorts, his left hand moved between his legs,
lightly stroking the pole of sensitive flesh jutting out of the fly of
his shorts. Each time he touched himself, an electric spark seemed to
crackle throughout his body. And each time he felt that spark, he sucked
Mr. McClinney's cock with greater fervor.
Chuck rocked his hips gently, pushing his dick against the downward gulp
of Wyler's lips. His moans of pleasure seemed to get trapped in his
throat, sounding more like deep growls. He brushed his fingers against
Wyler's face. "Feels so good," he purred.
Moving his mouth to Chuck's balls, Wyler's tongue prodded the heavy
orbs, jostling them in their hairy sac. His scrotum started to draw up,
reigning his balls in close to his body. Wyler sucked on them, enjoying
the way the fleshy spheres moved beneath the skin as he cradled them in
his tongue. Chuck gasped and shifted in his chair. Pre-cum flowed
steadily from his huge dick, a puddle collecting in Chuck's navel.
"Stand up," Mr. McClinney whispered hoarsely.
Slowly Wyler got to his feet. "Take the rest of your clothes off," he
was told. He shucked his shorts, kicked off his shoes and pulled off his
socks. Naked, he stood before Chuck as if it were a military inspection,
with his cock saluting--what? His future?
"You're shaking," Randy's dad said. "Are you nervous?"
Wyler supposed he was, though he didn't say so. Chuck motioned for him
to step over to the side of the chair. Wyler moved beside him, his
thighs touching the arm rest, his dick level with the older man's head.
He looked down at Chuck's crotch, at that massive tool doing push-ups
off his flat belly, and suddenly felt inadequate with his average-sized
dick. Randy's dad, though, fondled Wyler's hard prick admiringly. He
looked up at his son's friend and smiled.
Then he took Wyler's throbbing cock in his mouth.
Explosions of ecstasy went off inside him as his dick was engulfed by
the hot, wet cavern of Chuck's mouth. His tongue swabbed the underside
of Wyler's shaft, and in his sucking he'd created a vacuum-like pressure
against his cock-head. Wyler shuddered and reached toward Chuck,
clumsily stroking his damp hair.
Mr. McClinney swallowed his dick easily. The entire length of Wyler's
prick sank into his mouth, into his gullet. The tip of his nose was in
his pubes, and his chin was nudging his balls. Wyler's breath came in
fast gulps. He did not moan so much as whimper, though he struggled to
be silent as the clandestine nature of his past experiences--with the
sophomore, with the frat guy, with Chuck's son--made him fearful of
making any noise.
Chuck gripped the base of Wyler's cock, holding it in place while he
swirled his tongue around the crown. Wyler tilted his head back and
moaned, pushing his hips forward--pushing his cock into Chuck's mouth.
For a brief moment it struck him: He was being sucked off by his *best
friend's dad*! Quickly, he forced the thought out of his mind. This
wasn't Mr. McClinney, Randy's dad; it was just a hot older guy--a hot
older guy who was licking and sucking his balls, whose bristly mustache
was tickling the sensitive skin of his scrotum.
"Oh ... God," Wyler gasped.
One of Chuck's hands moved behind Wyler, tracing the crack of his ass.
Wyler felt the older man's fingers slip between his butt cheeks,
burrowing into the fuzzy, warm crevice, felt his fingers brush the
smooth, rubbery lips of his asshole, felt his skin grow tight, like it
Chuck removed his fingers from between Wyler's ass cheeks. "Make them
wet," he said, raising the fingers up to Wyler's lips. Wyler could smell
his own musk on Mr. McClinney's fingertips. He thought he should be
repulsed, yet, strangely, he was turned on. The younger man grabbed the
older man's wrist and guided his fingers into his mouth. Wyler licked
Chuck's fingers, covering them with his spit. Then Chuck pulled his
fingers from Wyler's mouth. They dripped with Wyler's saliva. "Good," he
purred, giving Wyler a sly smile. "Turn around."
Wyler did as he was ordered, wondering what was in store. His butt
cheeks were pulled apart, and he heard Chuck sigh, "Ooooh." Chuck's wet
fingertips glided over Wyler's ass lips, practically petting his
sphincter. The rosy-brown pucker contracted, and Wyler shuddered. Warm
air blew across his hole, hairs scratched the inside of his ass crack.
"Oh! Fuck, yeah!"