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Chapter 3 

I awoke the next morning to the sound of the man next door trying to start his rattle-trap truck. The sun was pouring into my room and it was hard to keep my eyes open. I looked over at my dad, who was still asleep, lying curled up on his side. He looked like a different person. A little stubble was beginning to appear on his face, but without his beard and long hair, he looked so young. He was only thirty-four, not much older than Matthew. He was still a child and he'd never really grown up, even though he touted himself as a real man. I had never realized how handsome he was with his strong, youthful body, his beautiful face. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 'My God,' I thought, 'what is it that he wants? What is it that makes him the way he is?'

I got up and took a shower. When I returned to my room, Dad was still asleep. I dressed and closed the door as I left for the kitchen. My stepmom was stirring up a pot of oatmeal. She told me to sit down, and as I did, she served me a large bowl with plenty of brown sugar sprinkled on the top.

"I thought your dad hadn't come home last night," she said without looking at me. "But when I looked in on you this morning, I saw that he had slept with you."

I could tell that she was not happy about it. In fact she looked very disturbed. But she said no more. She joined me with her own bowl of oatmeal and commented that my vacation would soon be over and I would be going back to school for my last semester before graduation. She clearly did not want to talk about what she found when she had looked in on me. I wasn't prepared to explain what had happened, either, and was just as glad not to have to talk about it.

It was a Saturday, and that afternoon, Matthew drove down and picked me up for another one of our visits to the Ice Cream Shop. I related to him what had happened the night before when my dad came and asked to lie down with me.

"I'm afraid I wasn't very nice to him," I said. "I came right out and told him that I had no interest in girls and that you and I loved each other. I told him that I didn't like his way of life or his idea of what a 'Real Man' should be. I don't think I was very nice about it, and I think I hurt his feelings. I think he was going to get up and leave, but I made him stay. Then we both went to sleep. He had cut both his beard and his hair off, and for the first time, I could see what he really looks like. It hit me that he's only thirty-four years old . . . only seven years older than you are. And he's really very handsome and so young looking."

Matthew said, "Did you feel an attraction to him. I mean, do you think you'd like to sleep with him again?"

"Well, in a way, I had an attraction to him. But I don't know. I've told him that cutting his hair and all that made no difference to me, and that he still is what he is. But, on the surface at least, he seems so different now. But he still has that large tattoo on his chest between his breasts of a woman's pussy. And when he spreads his arms out and back, the pussy opens and closes. It's like a big sign he carries saying, "See what a hot,shit-fucking asshole I am!"

"Do you think he wanted to be with you last night for sex?" Matthew asked.

"I don't know. It kind of seemed that way until I gave him my little lecture."

Matthew said, "You told me that all this started with him after he saw me sucking you off at the club that night. He's got this idea that I'm trying to take his place as your father. Jeb, I've tried to tell him that wasn't true, but it looks as though he doesn't believe it. And the only way he thinks he can get you to think of him as your father is to do the only thing he knows how. And that's to have a sexual relationship with you. To him, sexual prowess counts for everything."

"That's another thing I told him last night, Matthew. I tried to assure him, that although I loved you very much, he was still my dad."

"Jeb, I hope you know that I've never wanted to replace your dad as a father to you, even though I am ten years older than you. My love for you is different. I wish there was a way you could at last become close to your dad and have a normal father-and-son relationship. He likes to go fishing and he likes go quail hunting. Maybe you should suggest to him that you would like to do some of those things with him. Maybe there's a way you can establish a father-and-son relationship with him, and show him that he can be your dad without having sex enter into it."

"Maybe," I said. Inside of me, I wanted very much to have a close relationship with my dad. Maybe Matthew was right. Maybe it was really up to me to steer it in the right direction.

Matthew smiled at me and reached under the table, taking hold of one of my legs and lifting my foot up onto his lap. He pushed my pant leg up past my knee and very gently began to run both of his hands over my knee and leg. He smiled and said, "You know how much I love your legs. Don't worry. Nobody can see me doing this. I know that you'll be going back to school next week. But before you do, would you like to go over to Austin and stay with me for the weekend? I have to work during the week, but we can be together over the weekend."

"Sure I would," I said. "Dad knows now, for sure, I hope, that you and I are lovers. And of course, my stepmom would be all for it. Speaking of her, she was not at all happy about my dad sleeping in my bed all night. She didn't say much, but I could tell she didn't like it."

"Jeb," said Matthew, "have you ever wondered why your stepmom married your father, or even why she stays with him? She comes from such a fine background and a respectable family. The two of them seem so incongruous as a married couple."

I said, "No, but maybe sometime I'll ask her to tell me about how that happened. But I can say that I'm glad that happened. Without her, I don't know what would have become of me. I'd probably be a 'real man' by now in Dad's image!"

"Come on, Jeb." Matthew finally said. "I'll drive you home."

After we started driving, I realized we weren't heading toward my house. "This isn't the way home, Matthew," I said. "Where are you going?

Matthew said only, "You'll find out."

Soon, Matthew pulled off the road and drove a good way through the woods on a gravel road. We finally came to a clearing near a small lake. "Jeb, I've been thinking about bringing you here sometime," said Matthew as he climbed out of the car. "When I was a little kid, a friend of mine . . . his name was Tim . . . and I used to come out here where no one could find us, and we'd take off all our clothes and look at each other's penis. We didn't know anything about jerking off or anything like that, but we just liked looking at each other naked and playing with our little dicks. I think we started doing that when we were about seven years old. We came out here a lot, and then one day when we were out here a few years later, Tim told me he had an experience the night before that felt really good. Well, to make a long story short, he'd been playing with his penis in bed and had his first orgasm. So I started stroking myself, and I had my first orgasm. And it was right there under that tree over there. We loved to do it almost every day out here. We started jacking each other off eventually and then sucking each other's dicks. We finally started confiding in each other that we liked it and told each other which guys in school we were attracted to. I remember we both swore ourselves to secrecy because we thought we were the only two boys in the universe who liked other boys instead of girls."

As I stood there looking at the spot where Matthew had his first orgasm, he came up behind me and reached around me. He unbuttoned my shirt and undid my pants. Before I knew it, I was standing there naked watching Matthew strip off his own clothes.

Matthew said, "Jeb, nobody knows about this place. We always knew we could get rid of our clothes and nobody would ever see us."

Matthew reached down and picked me up in his arms and carried me to the hallowed spot under the tree. "This is kind of a sacred spot for me, Jeb. And I want you to drop your sperm at the very spot I did a long time ago. Who knows, maybe this tree will become even more beautiful than it is if it's fed on the sperm of both of us."

The longer I knew Matthew, the more of a romantic I found him. I wondered if he really believed that the sperm of both of us would make the tree more beautiful. I didn't care. If he believed it, I would believe it. He laid me down and spread my legs. Lying between them, he took my hard penis in his mouth. Pulling off briefly, he said, "When you're about to cum, tell me and I'll pull off. I want you to shoot it right there at that spot next to the trunk of the tree. Okay?"

As he always did, he ran his gentle hands over the full length of my legs as he sucked my penis into his throat. I watched his head going up and down in a slow deliberate way as though he were tasting it for the first time. When I told him I was cumming, he pulled off and rolled me over on my side so that I would shoot on the holy spot. I hit the target perfectly, and we watched the thick cum dribble down between the blades of grass into the ground.

"Now, my beautiful boy," Matthew said, "we both have a connection to this place." Slipping his arms under me and pulling my body up against his, he looked into my eyes through those long dark eyelashes and whispered, "I love you, Jeb. I want us to spend our lives together. We'll work hard, we'll be there to encourage each other in our goals every step of the way, and we'll grow old together."

We rolled in the cool, soft grass, locked in each other's arms and kissing each other deeply and passionately. The sun was very low in the sky, and we reluctantly got dressed and drove back to town.

My stepmom was standing on the front steps when we arrived. She called out to Matthew, "Please stay and have supper with us! I made a big chicken potpie, enough for all of us!"

Dad was home for supper this time, and we all ate together. My stepmom and Matthew did most of the talking. She told us all about the showing of her paintings at the gallery, and I was proud of Matthew as he exhibited a good knowledge of art. My stepmom seemed so happy that she at last had someone she could talk to about it. Dad had little to say throughout the meal, but when we were done, he asked if he could speak to Matthew privately back in his playroom. I went on into my room and sat close to the wall. The old house seemed to have walls made of paper, and not only could I hear what went on in Dad's bedroom, but I could usually hear everything that went on in the playroom. My room was situated between the two.

Dad had brought with him a six-pack of cold beer. I heard him say, "Sit yer ass down there, Matt, and have a cold one with me. We gotta talk about some shit. I know ya don't like me, and I ain't perticular fond of you neither. Why the fuck haven't I seen ya at the club no more. Ya used to have a good time there."

"Ben, I've been to orgies like that before, and I've always had a good time. But I don't need that anymore. I've got Jeb now."

Dad raised his voice and shouted, "What d'ya mean ya got Jeb now? You ain't got Jeb! Ya don't own him! He's mine! He's my son! Ya ain't got no right to say he's yers!"

"Of course, I don't own him, Ben," Matthew said. "Haven't we been over this before? We love each other. And I mean we love each other romantically and as lovers, not as father and son. When are you going to understand that, Ben? I know that Jeb himself tried to make that clear to you. I can understand your wanting to be his father, even though you ignored him as though you weren't his father for most of his life. But there's something you can't get through your head. And that is, being a father doesn't mean turning your son into a driven sex maniac like yourself. Being a father is loving him for what he is, respecting his interests and encouraging him to develop those interests. It isn't hard to do. You can still do it. Ben, he doesn't like your way of life. I don't know that he likes fishing and quail hunting much, either. But I'm certain he would go and do those things with you, just to be with you. But only if you talk with him and show him that you are interested in and respect the things he plans to do with his life."

Ben didn't answer for several long minutes, and I heard only silence. Then Matthew spoke.

"Ben? You know what I'm talking about, don't you? There is a way for you, as his father, to become close to Jeb. Think about it."

Then I heard my dad say, "I know you're right. But there's somethin' about me that YOU don't understand. Aw, fuck! I don't know how to say it. God-dammit, Matt, I love him like you do."

Matthew said, "Ben, how many times do I have to tell you my love for Jeb isn't as a father."

"I don't mean that. I mean I love him like you do. I mean, I love him . . . the way you do."

There was a long silence and I could feel a knot forming in my throat and the blood rushing to my head. Then I heard Matthew say something.

"Ben, are you telling me you have a sexual attraction to Jeb?"

"Aw, shit, Matt," Dad said. "Ya remember that first time ya went to the club just after ya started workin' at the rig? Ya remember when ya fucked me?"

"No, I don't, Ben. I didn't know anybody then. I don't remember who I was doing that with."

"Well, it was me," said dad. "And ya know somethin'? I been fuckin' holes, eatin' pussy and suckin' cock fer a long fuckin' time. But ya know somethin? That was the first time I ever got fucked. And you was the guy that fucked me. Sorry ya don't remember that. I'm tellin' ya, it ain't made no difference whose hole I fucked. Man or woman, it made no fuckin' difference. But when I felt you inside of me, somethin' happened to me. I ain't had a feelin' like that in my whole fuckin' life. I never wanted ya to stop. I fucked myself with a dildo sometimes, and Marion would stick her fuckin' fingers up my ass. But there weren't nothin' in the world that felt like havin' yer big throbbin' boner up inside of me. I watched yer face when you wer cummin' and I thought to myself, 'this man's havin' as good a feelin' as I'm havin''. And that made me hot knowin' that my fuckin' asshole was givin' another guy so much pleasure. I never wanted ya to stop."

"I had no idea," said Matthew.

"And then that time when Jeb was there," Dad continued, "and I saw him sittin' there naked and all fuckin' hot and bothered with his big man-sized cock stickin' straight up, I wanted him to fuck me so fuckin' bad. I wanted my boy's cock inside of me. Then you came up to him. And I watched him buckin' his fuckin' hips up to yer mouth, and saw the look on his face when he shot his fuckin' cum into ya. Oh, God-damn! How I wanted that cock inside of me and shooting his juice up into me!"

Matthew finally said, "I didn't know how you felt, Ben. I thought you were jealous of me and thought I was trying to be a substitute father."

"Aw, shit, Matt. Sure I'm jealous of ya. I'm fuckin'-ass jealous. But only because I lie awake nights with the fuckin' picture in my mind of that cock of yours, that once shot its load up my own fuckin' ass, now inside of Jeb and shootin' all yer sperm up into him. I can't stand it sometimes, Matt. I want him so badly. I want his whole fuckin' body. I love Jeb so much it's makin' my fuckin' head crazy."

I continued to strain to listen. But there was only silence for a few minutes. Then I heard Dad's voice again.

"I sit and watch on TV all them young fuckers bein' shipped over to the Persian Gulf and places. And I see their fathers huggin' em' and kissin' em goodbye. I'm glad Jeb ain't old enough. If he was sent away like that, I'd hug 'im and kiss im' and never let 'im go."

"Sure you would, Ben," Matthew said. "All fathers feel that way. But you have to let them go. My own dad is worried that I might have to go. But he won't do anything to stop me if I'm ordered to go."

Dad said, "Why would you have go? There ain't no draft no more."

"I'm a First Louie in the Texas National Guard, Ben. My unit hasn't been called up, but if it is called up, I'll go. I knew that when I joined the guard."

"Aw, shit!" Dad said. "Ya got ya a good job now and ya wanna go fuckin' around in the desert? Yer crazy!"

Mathew said, "I'm not here to defend what I do and believe, Ben, especially to you. Getting back to what you told me and your feelings for Jeb, you're going to have to deal with that yourself. I'm not sure why you admitted all this to me. But it won't change how Jeb and I feel about each other. My advice to you, Ben, is to talk to Jeb about how you feel. He's pretty confused about you and what you're after with him. This is going to have to be between you and him to work out."

Then Dad said, "Well, how about you? You gonna let me have him?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, ya gonna give him up and lemme have him?"

"Ben, you're an asshole. You're a fucking, God-damned asshole! Jeb and I will never give each other up. You can do what you want, and I'm not going to interfere. You talk to Jeb. And whatever he wants to do, it's strictly up to him. But I will never stop loving him, and I don't think he's going to walk away from me. I've got to leave now. Here, take this towel and dry your fucking eyes. It's nice to see a 'Real Man' like you with tears running down his face! It gives me hope for humanity!"

I heard the door to the playroom slam as Matthew left. Just as quickly, he was in my room and closed the door. I must have had a look of fear on my face.

"What's the matter, Jeb?" Matthew said as he came and sat on the bed next to me. "What's the matter? You look frightened."

"I heard everything you and my dad said. These walls are so thin."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jeb. I didn't mean to . . . ."

"Are you going to have to go to war?" I asked with my voice trembling slightly. "You didn't tell me you're in the Army."

"I'm not in the Army as an active soldier," said Matthew. "I'm just kind of a standby in case they need me."

"Weren't you going to tell me?"

"Of course I was. In fact, I was planning on picking you up tomorrow afternoon again and tell you all about it. Jeb? Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. I've got to drive home now. But we'll talk about it tomorrow, along with all the other stuff you heard your dad say. Okay?"

If there had ever been a time when I didn't want to be alone, it was then. For one thing, I worried that Matthew hadn't been truthful with me, and on top of that, I heard my dad telling Matthew about his sexual attraction to me. It was all I could do to keep from running out of the house after Matthew and begging him to take me with him to Austin.

As I started getting undressed for bed, Dad walked into my room. It was the last thing I wanted. I just wanted to go to sleep. He still had a beer in his hand and his shirt was hanging open, revealing that awful pussy tattoo on his chest.

"Jeb," he began. "I had a little talk with Matthew."

"I know, Dad. He said goodbye to me before he left."

Dad walked over to my desk and picked up a sheet of paper. "Is this some of yer fuckin' poetry?" he said as he scanned it.

"Dad, I wish you wouldn't call it my 'fuckin' poetry.' I work hard on it."

"I know," he said, "maybe I could read some of it sometime."

"Would you like to?" I said, walking to the desk to find a finished poem for him to read.

"Yeah. Sometime. I don't know nothin' about poetry, but maybe I could learn."

"Sure, Dad," I said eagerly as I held one out for him to take. "Would you like to read this one?"

"Aw, not right now. Maybe tomorrow. Jeb, what d'ya say we go off next weekend and do some fishin' down in the Gulf? Jist you and me. It's real good fishin' down off of Corpus Christi. We can rent a small inboard and spend the day fishin'. Would ya like that?"

I didn't know what to say. I had already planned on spending my last weekend before going back to school with Matthew in Austin.

"Huh? Would ya like that?" he repeated.

"Sure," I said, "but I might have some plans next weekend. Let me think about it."

"And ya can bring some of yer poetry and read it to me. Would ya like that?"

"Sure, if you'd like me to."

"On the way, why don't we swing down south and catch a bullfight just south of the border in Reynosa. Ya ever seen a fuckin bullfight, Jeb?"

I had never done any fishing in my life, and I'd never seen a bullfight. I wanted to say I would go, but I was afraid, after what I heard that night, that he was just trying to get me away from home so he could get me in bed and have sex with me.

The next day, Matthew picked me up, and we drove out to his 'secret' hide-a-way clearing by the lake. He brought with him some Mexican Tacos. We talked as we ate. I told Matthew about dad's invitation to go to Reynosa and Corpus Christi.

"Matthew, I was looking forward to our being together in Austin next weekend. Now Dad wants me to do this. I don't know what to tell him. I heard him last night tell you what he wants to do with me. You know, have sex with me."

"That was a surprise to me, too," said Matthew. "Jeb, it looks like you and your dad have a lot of things to work out. You just can't ignore it. It's not going to go away. I'd like to, but I can't intercede on this. You have to face him yourself and deal with it somehow. It's between you and your dad."

"I know," I said. "But what if he wants me to do things in bed with him? What if he forces me?"

"Jeb, you may be surprised to hear me say this, but if it comes to that, it might be best if you just went along with him. It's not going to change anything between you and me if you sleep with him and have sex. I don't want to see you go through life fighting your dad's will. I don't want to suggest anything that would drive a bigger wedge between you and your dad. If he comes around and begins appreciating you and your interests and goals, you may have no choice but to recognize his sexual interest in you, too. It would be an unusual father-and-son relationship, but the alternative of a complete estrangement from your father would be worse."

"You're telling me that you don't care if I have sex with my father?"

"Please don't misunderstand me, Jeb," said Matthew. "I want, and I'm looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you. But it would always hurt me to do that at the expense of your relationship with your father. You've never met my father, Jeb. But he is the most loving, caring dad anyone could have. I love having a father, a father who is proud of me and encourages me in my goals. It pains me to know that you haven't had that. I'd like to see a good relationship develop between you and your dad, in addition to the loving relationship we have. I admit I'm not thrilled with the idea of your closeness with your dad including sexual activity, but your dad's a strange guy. If that has to be part of it, you may have to accept it. Does that make any sense to you?"

"Yeah, it makes sense," I sighed. "but I'm scared."

"Jeb, go on and tell your dad you'll be happy to take the weekend off with him. You have to do it. You have to spend some time with him and work some of these things out. You and I are going to have a lifetime together, if you're willing. Doing this with your dad is the most important thing right now."

I got up and fell into Matthew's arms. As we lay on the ground, I said, "How did it ever happen that you came into my life, Matthew?"

On Saturday, my step-mom fixed an early breakfast for Dad and me.

Dad said, "I'm goin' to take a piss. Now you do that, too, Jeb. No one should set out on a trip before he takes a good piss."

I could tell that my stepmom was concerned. While Dad was in the bathroom, she said, "Jeb, be careful now. You know what your dad is like. Stand up to him, and don't do anything your conscience tells you not to."

I knew what she was referring to. She had that sixth sense about Dad and suspected what he wanted to do with me.

When we left, I brought with me a folder full of some of my poetry in case Dad would like to read some of it. As we drove south towards Reynosa, Dad said, "What ya got there? Is that yer poems? Ya can read some of it to me while we drive if ya wanna."

I was so eager to read some of it to him and hoped he'd like it. I read quite a few of them, but he never said anything. I finally said, "Well, I guess you don't want to hear any more."

"No, I like to have ya read 'em. But ya know I don't understand any of that stuff. They don't make no sense."

I didn't mind. I just felt good that I had the opportunity to read some of my work to him. We finally arrived at the border and after having our car checked, we went directly to the bullring. I hadn't expected the reaction I had. The Matadors were all so handsome, decked out in their colorful costumes. When the bullfight started, the Mexican band played and the crowd cheered. But as it progressed, I almost began to feel sick at the sight of that first bull being tortured. Soon it began to trip and collapse to its knees with long globs of bloody stuff pouring from it's mouth. I wanted to scream for them to stop, but the noisy crowd was cheering them on. All through the rest of the performance, I kept my eyes lowered and felt myself trembling. I couldn't understand how people could be entertained by watching a bull being tortured to death.

The bullfight ended at noon and we headed over to Corpus Christi. We checked into a motel on the waterfront and went directly to a marina where Dad rented an inboard and bought a big bucket of live shrimp for bate. As soon as he loaded our fishing gear into the boat, we rode out about two miles into the gulf. He showed me how to use the rod and reel, which was much heavier than I had imagined it to be. He had me practice casting and, when I got to be pretty good at it, we started fishing. Very quickly, Dad brought in a rather small Red Snapper, which he threw back in. But for the next half hour, nothing seemed to be biting. I finally told Dad that I was going to put down the rod and rest a bit. I had brought my folder with me and, as I watched Dad casting and reeling in over and over again, I took out a plain piece of paper and decided to sketch a picture of Dad as he looked there.

When I finished, I handed it to Dad. He put down his rod and looked at the picture really hard and said, "What the fuck is this? Is this me? You little fucker! Did you draw this while I wasn't lookin'? I like it. But it don't look like me."

"Sure it does, Dad. It's how I want you to look. You're a handsome man."

"Aw, shit. I ain't that handsome. Not like this guy in the picture."

I watched Dad as he stared at the picture a long time. I could see his lips curling into a little smile. I knew he liked it. Finally, without looking away from the picture, he said, "I didn't know ya could draw so good. Yer pretty fuckin' good, Jeb."

Soon, Dad had me up and casting again. After a few minutes, I felt a tug on my line. "Dad, I think I've got something!" I shouted.

Dad came up behind me and said, "Just hold on to that fuckin' rod, boy. When it tugs, jerk it back a little. Now keep yer thumb on the reel, but give that sucker a little slack. Let him run with it, but not too much. Then pull back sharply to make sure that hook's in his fuckin' gullet. Then reel him in slowly with a little jerk of the rod now and then, and then let him run with it a little, and then reel in a little more! That's right, boy! Yer doin' good!"

I did everything Dad was telling me and I was getting so excited. I held onto the rod so tightly, my knuckles were white. Then the fish came into view as I got it closer to the boat, and I could see it thrashing on the surface of the water.

"Aw, that's a big mother-fucker!" shouted my dad. "Now hold yer rod up high and let me git hold of the line and we'll swing her right into the boat!"

As dad grabbed the line and swung it into the boat, I was so excited, I began to laugh uncontrollably. I'd never been so excited in my whole life.

"Well, boy, ya landed a big fuckin' Grouper! I'm so fuckin' proud of ya! Them Groupers is good eatin'. I'll tell ya what. We'll take it over to Meg's Beachcomber Restaurant down near where we're stayin' and have her clean 'im and cook him up fer us fer dinner. Okay?"

I felt so happy, I just couldn't stop giggling. Dad finally picked up the picture from the seat and said, "Here. Put it back in yer folder. Don't want it to git dirty. Aw, shit, boy. I got so excited seein' ya pull in that Grouper I almost pissed in my pants."

He then stood up and dragged out his penis and let go into the water with a stream of piss so powerful, it looked like it was coming from a fire hose. I could tell his penis was soft, but it was long and fat like an Italian sausage. When he was done, he shook it wildly and said, "Ya know, boy, it don't matter how many times ya shake it, the last few fuckin' drops always run down yer leg when ya stuff it back in. Ever notice that?"

"Yeah, Dad," I said. "That happens to me, too."

When we finally returned the boat to the marina and got to Meg's restaurant, Meg came to our table and said, "Why, Ben Carson! I haven't seen you for years. Not since you and that motorcycle gang of yours used to come in here and eat me out of food! What brings you back here?"

"Well, Meg," said Dad as he reached around and pinched Meg's ass, "I want ya to meet my son, Jeb. We been down here doing a little fishin'."

"Didn't know you had a son, Ben. Please to meet you, Jeb. I can see you got your good looks from your daddy here."

"Meg, Jeb caught this here Grouper. Jeb caught it. Could ya cook it up fer us. Don't worry, I'll pay ya fer it."

"Sure, Ben. I'll tell you what. How would it be if I fileted and stuffed it with some savory bread stuffing and broiled it?"

"Great, Meg. While we're waitin', bring us a couple of beers. You'll drink a beer with me, won't ya, Jeb?"

I'd never had a beer in my life, but I felt in a celebratory mood, and said I would.

After Meg brought the beer and took away the Grouper, I said, "Dad, you must have been pretty good friends with that woman."

"Sure. Me and my buddies got to know her real well. Did ya see the ass on her? I'll tell ya somethin'. She's a great fuck. Me and my buddies used to fuck the shit out of her after she'd close up at night. She'd take us all on and then cry fer more. She's one of them that likes to git fucked in the ass while another guy's fuckin' her in the cunt. She was a hot little mother-fucker. We had some good times."

After we both finished about three bottles of beer, the Grouper finally arrived. It was indescribable. I couldn't remember ever enjoying a meal as much.

When we left, Meg followed us out to the parking lot. I got into the car, but Dad and Meg stood talking for a few minutes. I looked and they were hugging and kissing. I saw her hand on Dad's bulge and heard her say, "Ben, I can see that old cock of yours is just as ready as it ever was. When you're in these parts again, come on back, and we'll . . . talk about old times."

When we arrived at the motel, we were both still sweaty and covered with the residue of the salt air and water out on the Gulf. Dad went into the bathroom and took his shower first, while I stripped down waiting my turn. When he finally emerged, I could see that his penis was now semi-hard. I went in immediately and took my shower. When I came out, I saw Dad sitting on the side of the bed staring at the picture I had drawn of him. He had that little smile on his face and was shaking his head almost imperceptively.

"Dad," I said, "That picture is for you. You can keep it if you'd like."

"Thanks, Jeb. I can't tell ya how much I like it. To know my own son drew this."

"No big deal, Dad," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Dad lay back stretched out with his enormous penis now fully erect and straight. I looked at him and was struck by the beauty of his body and his face. 'Only thirty-four and he's my dad,' I thought. His smile was actually rather sweet, and he patted the bed beside him, silently beckoning me to lie down. Leaving the bathroom light on and the door ajar, I turned off the other light in the room, fully realizing that there was no escaping what was about to happen. I wanted Dad's love, and Matthew had told me to allow him to love me in whatever ways he knew how.

I lay down next to him, with my own penis standing up gorged and hard. Dad looked at it and said, "Ya got a great tool there, Jeb. Did ya ever measure it?"

"No, Dad," I said. "Does it make any difference."

"Maybe not," he said, "But a guy should know all about what he's got to offer. Ya know how tall ya are and how much ya weigh. A guy's cock's one of the most important parts of his body. He should know all about it."

"Did you ever measure yours?" I asked.

"Sure. Would ya believe this fucker's jist over nine inches?"

"Yeah, I believe it, Dad."

"I don't have no ruler here, but I'd estimate yer cock ain't less than maybe seven inches, which ain't bad. I believe the more use it gits, the longer it gits. So if ya use it, yers'll get nice an' long like mine."

"Yours got to be nine inches because you use it a lot?"

"Of course. I'm either fuckin' or gittin' it sucked or jerkin' off every day . . . maybe two or three times a day."

We lay there silently for a few minutes. Then Dad got up on his hands and knees and straddled my body. He looked down into my eyes. I could feel the tip of his penis rubbing against mine. He slowly lowered his head until his lips met mine. He kissed me very gently and ran his tongue over my closed lips. Then he just looked at me with that sweet smile.

I looked into his eyes and finally said, "Dad, do you remember in the boat today, you said you were proud of me? You know, that's the first time you have ever told me you were proud of me. Did you mean it?"

"Why, sure, I meant it. I don't say no fuckin' thing I don't mean. Yeah, I'm proud of you. And Jeb, I love you very much."

Dad lowered his head down to my chest, and I could feel his tongue moving across my skin and my nipples. I lifted my arms instinctively and ran my hands over his firm ass cheeks. I kept telling myself he loves me, he's proud of me, and this is one of the ways he wants to show his love. Matthew told me that this was one of the ways he would do it, and that I was to accept it. I could feel myself breathing heavier as his tongue moved lower over my stomach and into my pubic hair. He lingered there and I could hear him moaning softly to himself. Then I felt his hands on my legs, caressing them softly and gently just as Matthew often did. As Dad run his tongue over the top and sides and underside of my throbbing penis, I began to feel a sexual frenzy sweep over my body. I ran my hands over his head, his face, his neck and powerful shoulders. His skin was smooth and firm and young. I felt his tongue sweeping across my ball sack and my balls being gently sucked into his mouth. I felt myself falling into a reverie of erotic pleasure as Dad lifted my legs and ran his tongue down through my ass crack.

Suddenly, Dad turned his body around completely and lowered his dripping penis onto my face. As he sucked on mine, I eagerly took his enormous tool into my mouth, tasting the semen that ran from it. I could get little more than his large rubbery head into my mouth. I longed to taste his cum and worked my tongue feverishly over the large mass of his penis. At that moment, I wanted it more than anything in my life. I knew that he could tell how much.

He pulled off and, moving around next to me so he could face me, he kissed me. This time, we opened our mouths and plunged ourselves inside, tasting each other's tongues and cheeks and saliva. We stopped for a moment, and with a look of overwhelming passion on his face, he said, "Jeb, I love you. I want you inside of me. I need to have you inside of me. Please."

I knew what he wanted, and I wanted it, too. He rolled over on his back and pulled his huge thighs up against his chest. Again, he said, "Jeb, I want you inside of me. Please."

Without hesitation I got up on my knees and mounted him. As I pushed my penis into his ass crack, I looked down at him and saw a look of pure love in his eyes. He was like a little boy, pleading for me to climb inside of him. I began to push and found that my penis slipped into his asshole easily. He obviously knew the technique that Matthew had taught me. But once the full length of my penis was inside of his rectum, I could feel the ring of muscle around his hole tightening and contracting wildly against my penis. As I pumped in and out, his eyes became half closed and he moaned softly. He ran his fingers over my face lightly and through my hair. I watched the muscles in his arms and chest ripple and tense and relax and tense again. I looked down to see if I could watch my own penis going in and out of Dad's hole. But my gaze stopped on his gorged penis which was now pumping out a long stream of pre-cum.

It was all too much for me. I couldn't hold off any longer. I felt the warning signs that my orgasm was near and I tried to slow the pumping to delay cumming. But it was no use. Dad realized it was time and he grabbed hold of my ass cheeks, squeezing them and pulling my hips hard against his ass. As I felt my sperm surging up through my shaft and into my dad's rectum, I opened my mouth and moaned loudly. And as I did, I saw great ropes of thick white cum spurting out of my dad's penis onto his chest and stomach. Seeing this, I suddenly felt a second orgasm gripping my insides. I hadn't realized that was possible. When it was over, I stayed there on my knees with my penis still inside, supporting myself with my arms. The overwhelming weakness that took over my body was too much, and I collapsed onto my dad's body. I felt his sperm squishing between our stomachs. We kissed again, this time more deeply and passionately than before.

Soon I was lying on my back and Dad was slowly licking up his cum, now smeared all over my stomach. He looked at me and said quietly, "Would you like to clean me up, too?"

I pushed him over on his back and licked his stomach clean.

Dad finally said, "I wanted to show ya how fuckin' much I really love ya, Jeb."

"I love you, too, dad." I wanted to tell him that what we had done during the day was enough to prove his love. But Matthew had told me that what we had just done that night would be something in addition that dad would feel was necessary to show his love. To him, sex was part of love, whether it be between man and wife or between father and son.

I rolled over on my back totally spent and staring at the ceiling. Dad was next to me and propped himself up on his elbow. Looking down at me, he said, "Are ya okay? This wasn't too fuckin' much fer ya, was it?"

When I didn't say anything, he said, "Yer thinkin' about that Matthew fella, aren't ya?"

"Dad I wish you wouldn't call him 'that Matthew fella.' Just call him Matthew.

"I betcha ya don't tell him what a good time we had."

"Dad, I think he already knew this would happen."

"He did?"

"Yes."

"And was he okay with it?"

"Yes."

"Jeb," Dad said. "I thought he was yer lover. He made a big fuckin' deal about how much ya love each other, and that yer his."

"Dad, Matthew understands more about these things than you think. He understands you pretty well."

"What does that mean?"

"Dad, he's wanted you and me not to be strangers anymore, and just understands that in order to show your love for me completely, what we did tonight had to be part of your love for me. He just understands you that way."

"Ya do know that I love ya in ever way possible, don't ya?"

"Yeah, I understand that now. And, Dad, I'm okay with it. I'm okay with you loving me . . . in every way possible, including what we did tonight, if that's how you want it."

"Don't you love me in that way, too?"

"Yes, Dad, I do. But I don't want you to think that my relationship with Matthew has changed. You and I love each other as father and son, but I love Matthew in a different way, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does. And someday when you and Matthew are livin' together, maybe ya can invite yer old man to come stay with ya sometimes."

I didn't want to respond to that. I knew what he had in mind. But it was a tantalizing thought. I wondered what Matthew's response would be to that?
 

To be continued...