Bobby and Greg
 by: Hankster

© 2011 by the Author

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

The pretty seventeen-year-old girl had been married for six months to the town’s wealthiest man.  He was sixty-seven years old, and she was his first wife.  She had married him at her parents’ urging.  She wanted desperately to get out of their puritanical household, and she was happy to oblige them.  As additional benefits, she got to quit school, which she hated, and she got to live in a grand house with day servants, and a generous, giving husband.

At sixty-seven, her husband had lost none of his sexual prowess.  He was generously endowed with eight uncut inches.  He still got hard as a rock, and had staying power way beyond the teenaged boys she had previously experienced.  He was able to bring her to multiple orgasms whenever they made love.  She appreciated all that, but still she was a malcontent.

It bothered her that her husband’s ass cheeks sagged badly.  She longed for the firm, round, bubbly asses of her former boy schoolmates.  One of them was the son of her gardener.  The gardener usually came every Thursday while his son was in school.  One lovely Thursday in late spring, the school scheduled a teachers’ conference and Bobby accompanied his father to work.  While they were cutting grass and trimming bushes, Marjorie brought them both lemonade to refresh themselves.  She took the opportunity to whisper in her former school mate’s ear, “Bobby, honey, my husband is on a business trip and won’t be home until tomorrow night.  Come on over after work.  I’ll dismiss the servants early.”

Bobby tented his shorts immediately in anticipation of what was to come.  When he rang the bell that afternoon, she pulled him into the house.  She was wearing a sheer, see-through robe, and it was obvious that she had nothing on beneath the robe.  She ran up stairs to her bedroom with Bobby in tow, and practically ripped off his clothes.  She stared longingly at his fifteen year old ass.  After sometime she drew him to her.  She wrapped her hands around him, and caressed his bottom cheeks lovingly and longingly for a very long time.

Bobby’s cut seven inch erect cock was so hard, he hurt.  Marjorie fell to her knees and took his cock in her mouth.  She stroked it with her tongue, and when she felt that Bobby was going crazy, she stopped.  She made him go down on her until she had an orgasm.   Then she got into bed, lay on her back, and told him to enter her.  It bothered Bobby for a half second that he was unprotected, but he figured that Marjorie was a married woman and so what the heck.

He came too quickly, way too quickly.  She made him go down on her again, and she had another orgasm.  She didn’t let Bobby get dressed and leave.  Instead she made him lie in bed with her and cuddle.  Her hungry hands caressed his bubble butt until finally she had her fill of it, and she sent him home.

Both Marjorie and her husband, Greg, were of Italian descent.  They had black hair and dark brown eyes.  When Marjorie gave birth to her first son (her only child, as it turned out) he had hazel eyes and honey-blond hair.  She instinctively knew that her husband was not the father, but she had slept with many boys, several times with Bobby, who was blond.  She wasn’t sure who the father was.  If Greg suspected anything at all, he kept it to himself.  As far as he was concerned, Gregory, Jr. was his son, and he treated him that way.

When Greg, Jr. was ten years old, his father had a massive heart attack, and he passed away suddenly.  Marjorie took over his business, and she turned out to be a strong, shrewd and fearless business woman.  At first, the staff thought she was a joke, but when she started firing many of them, and replacing them with hand picked, loyal employees, those who remained, quickly came around to her side and supported her.  She stopped looking for sexual gratification.  Instead she got high on what Donald Trump called, “The Art of the Deal.”

She did not neglect her son, and spent as much time with him as she could manage.  Greg was a happy and content child.  He was popular at school and he was growing into a handsome young lad.  The girls adored him, and he could have had his pick of any of them, if he wasn’t gay.  Being gay was his secret.  He guarded his secret like the gold at Fort Knox. 

By the time Greg was fifteen, and a sophomore in high school, he was full grown at six feet even.  His honey-blond hair had darkened to a light brown, almost the color of his eyes.  He wasn’t particularly athletic, but he worked out in a gym after school, and he was hard and muscled.  His body was almost fully mature.  His uncut cock measured five inches flaccid and seven inches when he was aroused, which was often.

Greg would lie in bed every night, imagining having sex with boys and teachers he knew, as well as faces he didn’t recognize at all.  He had crushes on many of his fellow students and teachers.  His hand would find his hardened cock and he would stroke himself until he came.  He would rub the cum into his body, and not bother to clean up until morning.  Occasionally he would taste his own cum, but it wasn’t anything special.  He had not yet had sex with another male, or a female for that matter.

On the first day of his sophomore year, he got his class assignments in home room.  He compared his schedule with some of his buddies.  One of them was in his math class, which was the last hour of the day.  Their first thought was how the hell they could stay awake through it. 

Then Greg’s friend said, “Ugh, I hear that Mr. Smith is a fag.”  Needless to say, Greg’s ears perked up immediately.  When he entered Mr. Smith’s class room that afternoon, the first thing he saw written on the chalk board was:

Waldo R. Smith

555-3478

The second thing he saw was Mr. Smith sitting at his desk, smiling at the students as they entered the room.  He was so handsome, Greg’s heart skipped a beat.  He didn’t look gay, but then Greg wasn’t sure what gays  were supposed to look like.  Mr. Smith stood about six feet two inches tall.  He had dark blond hair, hazel eyes, and a lean muscular body.  Greg placed his age at about thirty.  He held his breath as Mr. Smith began to speak.

“Hello everybody.  My name is on the board, and the telephone number is my red alert number.”  He stopped and chuckled.  “By that, I mean if you are having problems doing your homework, and need a little help, I am always available to you.  Just dial the number.  If I don’t answer, leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. 

“Before we begin, let’s make sure that we are all in the right class,” he continued.  “This is first semester geometry.  If you are in the wrong class, please leave and find your correct one.”  Nobody moved, and Mr. Smith began his lesson.

All week long, Greg looked for an excuse to call Mr. Smith, but the work was easy, and he had no reason to seek help.  Finally, at the end of the first week, it was Mr. Smith who gave Greg the opportunity that he was looking for.  Before dismissing the class, he said, “Gregory Marino, would you stay a moment after class?”  A couple of guys raised their eyebrows.  If Greg noticed, he didn’t care.

Moments later, he was alone in the room with Mr. Smith.  “What did you want to talk to me about, Sir?” he asked, trying to sound a little fearful.

“Relax; I just wanted to ask you a question.  I went to school with a Marjorie Romero.  She married a guy named Gregory Marino.  She wouldn’t happen to be related to you, would she?”

Greg laughed.  “Yes sir, she happens to be my mother.”

“Your mother?  I can’t believe it.  But she got married at seventeen so I guess it’s possible.  By the way, stick to calling me Mr. Smith.  ‘Sir’ makes me feel so old, and I’m only thirty.”

“Yes, sir, I mean, Mr. Smith.”

“Would you tell her that Bobby Smith, the gardener’s son, said to say hello.” 

“Yes I will, but I thought your name is Waldo.”

“I was named after a rich uncle, but everyone, including my parents, hated the name.  My middle name is Robert, and I was always called Bobby.”

Greg grinned from ear to ear.  He and Mr. Smith were having a serious man to man talk.  Greg felt like Bobby had confided some deep personal information to him and he was beaming inside.  The teacher picked up his books as if to leave, and they awkwardly said goodbye to each other.

He mentioned his encounter with Mr. Smith to his mother that evening, and she said that she could not remember any Bobby Smith.  She didn’t recall what the gardener’s name was, or so she professed.  Besides, she was working on an acquisition, and that was all she had time to think about at the moment. 

After a couple of weeks, Greg could no longer deny the simple truth to himself.  He was going to flunk geometry and disappoint Mr. Smith.  It certainly wasn’t Mr. Smith’s fault.  He was an excellent teacher.  Greg just could not concentrate in class.  Mr. Smith constantly lectured in the nude.  His cock and balls were huge and Greg longed to savor them.  Whatever words the teacher spoke, they were flying into nowhere as far as Greg was concerned.  Finally after he flunked the second test, Mr. Smith asked him to stay after class for a consult.

“I’ve checked your school records,” Smith began.  “You are an excellent student.  What’s going on here?”

Greg longed to yell out the truth.  I’m gay and I want you.  I want you badly.  He was mute while Smith stared at him waiting for him to speak.  Finally he got an idea.  “You said we could call you any time for help,” he said.  “I know I can grasp it if you were maybe able to tutor me a little.”

(The first time Bobby saw Greg, he was just as stricken as Greg was.  When teaching a lesson, he tried not ever to look at Greg.  Greg sat in his seat bare ass naked, and Bobby could not concentrate on the lesson.)

“I think that can be arranged.  What evening would it be convenient to come over to your house?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.  I don’t want my mother to know I’m having trouble.  Besides I’d like to talk to you about other things.  Could we maybe meet after school at your place?”

Bobby looked startled.  “That might not be a good idea,” he said.  “You know how people talk.  Do you know what I mean?”

“I do know what you mean.  Nobody has to know.  I certainly won’t tell, and you won’t have to worry.”

Bobby’s cock twitched.  Maybe he was reading more into what Greg said than Greg intended.  He wondered what Greg meant when he said that he had other things to talk to him about.  They agreed that Greg would go home with Bobby after class on Friday afternoon.  Greg chose that day because his mother was going on a business trip for the weekend.

Bobby’s apartment was small, but cozy and neat as a pin.  He and Greg went in and he closed the door behind him.  He was dressed casually, but he kicked off his loafers and took off his socks.

“I like to walk barefoot on the carpeting,” he explained.  “Put your books on the kitchen table and I’ll be right back.  He went into his bedroom, and emerged a few minutes later wearing just gym shorts, and nothing else.  Greg could easily discern Bobby’s package and he moaned.

“Is anything wrong?” Bobby asked.

“No,” Greg mumbled.

“Then let’s get started.”

“Could I ask you about something else first?”

“Sure! Fire away.”

“The rumor around school is that you are gay?  Is that true?”

“You shouldn’t listen to rumors.  Is my sexual orientation a matter of concern to you?”

“Not a matter of concern, but a matter of interest, Mr. Smith.  You see I’m gay.  So far I’ve done a good job of hiding it, but I need your advice, should the time come that I am discovered.” 

Greg lowered his head and started to cry.  Bobby came over to him and enveloped him in his arms.  His near naked body caused a sensation in Greg that he had never felt before.  Each man could feel the other’s erection against his own body.  It was obvious what was happening and Bobby grew frightened.  Greg was jail bait after all.

He pulled away.  Still holding Greg’s hand, he led him toward the sofa in the living room.  “Sit,” he commanded kindly.  The two men sat side by side.  Bobby held Greg’s hand tightly.

“How do you know that you are gay?” he asked.  “Have you ever had sex with a man?”

“No, but that’s all I think about.  I’ve never been with a girl either.”  Greg grew bold.  He had nothing to lose.  “Lately all I think about is having sex with you.”

That admission put Bobby over the top.  “I know,” he said.  “It’s the same for me.  How long can you stay?”

“All weekend.”

“Nobody can ever know.”

“It will be our secret, at least until I am legal.”

Bobby leaned into Greg and placed his lips on the boy’s.  Their tongues met, and began to dance as they dueled in their mouths.  Suddenly Greg felt Bobby caressing his crotch.  Nobody had ever done that before and he jumped.

“Are you all right?” Bobby asked.

“Better than all right.”

“Then let’s go to my bedroom, get undressed and make love all night.”

“You’ll have to teach me what to do, teacher.”

“It’ll be my pleasure.”

A few minutes later, Greg was being instructed in the fine art of fellatio.  When Bobby went down on him and he began to experience his first blow job, he came so fast, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that both student and teacher were surprised.  Still Bobby managed to catch all Greg’s cum in his mouth and swallow it.”

“Your cum is so sweet,” Bobby exclaimed.  “Would you like to try doing it to me?”

Greg didn’t answer.  He just leaned over and took Bobby into his mouth.  He tried to emulate Bobby’s technique as Bobby had instructed him.  It didn’t take long for the teacher to cum also.  Afterwards, they lay in each other’s arms cuddling and fondling.  Nobody said a word until Greg whispered in Bobby’s ear, “When can we fuck each other?  I’m hard again.”

Not too long after that, Bobby began to prepare Greg to fuck him.  He sucked the boy’s cock until it was solid as a rock, and then he put a condom on it.  Of course, Greg objected, but Bobby ignored him.  Then he greased Greg’s sheathed cock with plenty of lube and inserted a good amount up his ass.  He lay on his back and raised his legs onto Greg’s shoulders.  Greg knew exactly what to do, and how to do it.  As his nearly mature seven inches positioned itself on Bobby’s greasy crack, he slid in easily, too easily.  This was contrary to everything he had ever read, and he concluded that his teacher was a man of vast experience.

As Greg began a rhythmic stroke, his cock began to rub against Bobby’s prostate, and Bobby felt that he was going to cum again.  He tried to hold back, but finally he exploded.  His jism squished between them, exciting Greg even more, and he gushed into the condom, as he kissed Bobby passionately.    

When he was rested, and his cock slid out of Bobby’s ass, he begged, “Fuck me now.  Please Bobby.”

“I’m not fifteen,” Bobby protested.  “I need a break, but let me get you started.  Lie on your stomach.”  Greg turned onto his stomach and Bobby straddled him fully.  Greg could feel Bobby’s limp cock on his ass hole.  Bobby began to kiss his way down Greg’s back side and when he reached his ass, he began to kiss and knead it.  Suddenly Greg felt a sensation that made him scream in delight.  Bobby was rimming him, trying to get his tongue in as far as he could.  Greg moaned in pleasure.

“Fuck me now,” he begged.

“In a little while,” Bobby answered.

* * *

They continued their illicit relationship until Greg graduated from high school.  Then, when he went off to University, they were together whenever Greg came home.  It was torture for them to be apart.  They were sustained by the fact that when Greg graduated they would be together forever.

Sometime during Greg’s sophomore year, when he came home for Thanksgiving, Bobby got the distinct feeling that something was wrong.  Greg was very pale; he was listless and tired all the time.  When he came home for Christmas, Bobby’s suspicions were renewed, but Greg kept insisting that there was nothing wrong with him.

Shortly after Greg went back to school after the New Year, Bobby was shocked to get a call from Greg’s mother.

“Do you remember me?” she asked.

“I’ll never forget you.” he replied, wondering if she had found out that he was Greg’s lover.

“I’ll be brief,” she said.  “I’m not proud of myself, but I have to admit something.  About the time my son, Greg, was conceived I slept with several boys as well as my husband.  We’ve just learned that Greg has leukemia, and I am contacting every one of them I can find, to beg them to come in and be tested.  Greg desperately needs a bone marrow transplant to beat this thing.  I don’t know who his father is, but if anyone of you is a compatible donor, I beg you to give him some of your bone marrow.  He and I are not a match.”  Marjorie broke down sobbing.

Bobby was too shocked to speak.  Marjorie had just placed a sharp knife in his heart.  He controlled himself from shrieking out.  Suddenly he realized that he might have been making love to his own son all these years, but it didn’t bother him.  His only thought was to save Greg’s life.

“Are you there?” he heard Marjorie sob out.

Finally he pulled himself together.  “I’ll be wherever I have to go as soon as possible.”

“He’s at Memorial Hospital on Main,” she said.  “Ask for Dr. Skidmore when you get there.”

The doctor met him in his office at the hospital.  He told Bobby that in addition to testing him for compatible bone marrow, Mrs. Marino had asked that all potential donors be given a confidential DNA test to determine Greg’s paternity.  He could refuse to take the DNA test if he wanted to.  Bobby said that he was anxious to find out if he might be Greg’s father, and the tests proceeded.

When the doctor finished his tests, he confided that Bobby was the only potential donor.  Everyone else Marjorie called had refused her request. 

“I was his math teacher in high school,” Bobby informed the doctor.  “I’m extremely fond of him.  There is an outside chance that I might be his father, and I would be very happy if I were.”

It would be a few days before the bone marrow and DNA results would be known.  It left Bobby with plenty of time to think.  First and foremost he prayed that he could be a donor.  His priority was to save Greg’s life.  Secondly, he was very confused about how he felt about his paternity.  He would love having Greg as a son, but he desired him physically and that presented quite a dilemma.  Even if he could get past that, how would Greg feel about screwing his father?   Bobby was fully aware that father and son relationships were not that uncommon.  Besides, their relationship started out without their knowledge of a possible genetic relationship.  He couldn’t get the whole idea out of his head.  In fact it gave him a chronic headache.

He and Marjorie were constant visitors to the hospital where Greg lay ashen and weak.  She kept asking Bobby to have dinner with her, and he finally agreed.  At dinner she told him that he could make her happy by spending the night with her.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea for me,” he said.  “You see, I’m gay.”

Marjorie was silent for a long time.  Finally she asked, “Are you aware that Greg is gay?  He hasn’t told me, but I know in my heart.  He has a lover, but I don’t know who it is, and I don’t want to know.  Greg will tell me what he wants me to know, when he wants to.”

All Bobby could say was, “I kinda suspected also.”

Three days after Bobby’s tests, he and Marjorie met in Dr. Skidmore’s office. 

“I have good news, bad news,” the doctor said.  “The good news is that you are a compatible bone marrow donor for Greg.  The bad news is that you are not his biological father.” 

“I’m sorry about that,” Bobby said.

“Then it is bad news after all,” the doctor replied.

“I’m sorry about that also,” Marjorie said.  “Since the other men won’t be tested, I guess Greg’s parentage will remain a mystery.  Let’s just leave it where it was.  Greg, Sr. was, and will always be, his father.”

“How soon can we do the transplant?” Bobby asked.

* * *

The transplant was accompanied by debilitating chemo therapy.  When Greg recovered, he was tested every six months and declared to be in remission.  He completed college with a degree in education and a minor in economics.  He procured a job teaching social studies in the same high school where Bobby worked.  Marjorie was disappointed, but Greg had no interest in his father’s business.  When he was twenty-five he inherited a vast trust fund from his father, and invested it wisely.  He would be comfortable the rest of his life.

He moved in with Bobby after college, and they revealed their relationship to Marjorie.  Although she disapproved because of their age difference, there was little she could do about it except to give them her blessing.  Greg kept begging her to scale down her business life and have a more active social life.  Maybe, just maybe, she would find Mr. Right.

“I want you to be as happy as I am,” Greg told his mother. 

“We’ll see,” she said.  “I’m happy that you’re happy, and I’m happy with my life, so let’s leave it at that.”

“We’re both happy then,” Greg muttered, and he sighed in contentment. 

But he wasn’t really satisfied, and he and Bobby decided to do a little match making.  They made a little dinner party and invited Marjorie and Bobby’s widowed father, Gil.  Gil was eighteen years older than Marjorie, but he was a beautiful specimen of a man.  All those years working as a gardener had given him muscle and sinew.  He was a man’s man, and Bobby and Greg thought that Gil and Marjorie might be a good match.

Gil was no longer a gardener.  He owned the largest landscaping business in the city.  Large condominium complexes and many golf courses used his services.  He employed more people than the city itself.

Gil thought that he was just having dinner with his boys, and he was wearing too-tight jeans and a tee shirt.  He was proud of his body, and he liked to show it off.  Marjorie, of course, was dressed to the nines.  She hadn’t seen Gil in many years, and when she saw him, her sexual desires returned very quickly.

He didn’t look any older than she did, and of course, her eyes wandered to his butt.  It was round and solid, like a young man’s and she longed to see it unencumbered.  His jeans also revealed a very ample package.  For his part, Gil’s eyes wandered to Marjorie’s breasts.  It was plain that she wore no bra, but she was round and firm.  From the start something happened between them.  Bobby and Greg could not have been more pleased.

Gil and Marjorie began to date casually, then more seriously.  Soon, they were seeing each other on a daily basis.  A year later Bobby was best man, and Greg gave the bride away, at their parents’ wedding.

After the ceremony Bobby laughed and whispered in Greg’s ear.  “So it turned out that I wasn’t your father, but now you’re my brother, and I can’t wait to commit a little incest.  That should spice up our bed.”  Greg smiled and poked him in his rib cage.

Posted: 10/21/11