The Tutor

(Revised)
by: Peter

(© 2010 by the Author)
 

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

Chapter 6

I gave a lot of thought to what Brady said about us being together. I had deep reservations. I didn’t know if Brady was mature enough to sustain a real relationship, much less with a man old enough to be his father.  I wondered in my heart whether it wouldn’t work in the long run, as we both got older--shouldn’t he be out sowing his wild oats, exploring life and everything it had to offer?--but I couldn’t abandon the idea either. On the other hand, if he said he knew what he wanted, it was presumptuous of me to deny that. Brady obviously really cared for me and and if I was honest with myself, I was developing feelings for Brady, too.  Maybe I owed it to both of us, I decided, to least give it a trial run. As for myself, I’d never been in a relationship with a man, or with anyone at all my son’s age. I was just beginning to realize what, and who, I wanted.  Brady made me feel happy and sometimes giddy, and… well… good about myself and about my life.  And it wasn’t just the sex, as incredible as that was.  It was as if he’d awakened a part of me I hadn’t known was asleep.

Josh complicated things, too, since Brady and I were both fucking him, I on a daily basis; I didn’t know about Brady.  It ought to feel perverted, that my son’s ass turned me on more than any woman’s pussy ever had, but Josh wanted it even more than I did, and that was beginning to evaporate my last traces of guilt.  He was certainly more in touch with his feelings than I’d been at his age.

Josh found me in one of those pondering states one day; I was sitting on the back deck sipping a drink and gazing across the yard that Brady kept manicured. When he asked me what I was thinking about, I told him.

“Me and Brady,” I said.

“What about you and Brady?” he asked, taking my drink and downing about half of it before I could retrieve the glass.

“About us as an item. I was wondering whether things are getting too serious,” I said.

“Who’s getting too serious, you or him?”

“He is. And, unwisely, I’m letting myself go along with it,” I said.

“Why do you say unwisely?  It’s not the most common thing in the world for a teenager to fall for an older guy, old enough to be his dad, but Brady is not your ordinary common guy.”

“No, he certainly isn’t,” I agreed.  “Bringing him here to live has only encouraged him I’m afraid.”

Josh laughed. “Brady doesn’t need much encouragement, especially when it comes to you.”

“Has he said something? Have you two talked?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t say we’ve talked talked, but yeah, he’s said a lot.  Hell, he can’t get a sentence out without talking about you.”

“And?” I asked.

He laughed, shaking his head. “You still don’t get it do you?”

“Get what?”

“Its more than just sex between you. Brady’s nuts about you. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s in love, but he’s crazy about you. And I don’t mean your body; I mean you as a man, as a person.”

“He’s said he thinks he’s in love,” I said.

“Well, then, he is.  Brady wouldn’t say something like that just off the top of his head.”

“Josh, he’s talking about us being together. As in a life together. Do you know how complicated that would be?”

“No, I don’t see anything complicated about it at all,” he said. “I can tell that you want him.  You can’t let your fear hold you back.  Isn’t that what you’ve told me so many times?”

“Giving relationship advice to your dad--man, how’d you get to be so wise at such a young age?”

“I had a good teacher,” he grinned.

 “What about you, Josh?” I asked.  “How do you feel about it?”

“Getting buttfucked on a regular basis by two of the hottest guys I know?” he laughed.  “What’s not to like?”

“Seriously, Josh.  How do you feel about me and Brady being… together?”

 “Dad, I’m okay with you and Brady. In fact, I think its cool as hell.  Brady had the same concerns for my feelings.  I told him I’m okay with him and you. He’s nuts about you, Dad, and I think you’ve got a hot streak for him. If it develops into something, I’m all for it." 

"What do you mean, develops into something?”

“Something permanent. Like Brady being my stepbrother, or step dad, or whatever it would be. He’s already practically a member of the family.”

***** 

The night we all went to dinner together I invited Brady’s parents over to see the room we had set up for their son and Mr. Bush gave me a generous deposit for his care.  I didn’t tell him that I would be putting the money in a bank for Brady. I was not going to accept any money for the privilege of having the young stud under my roof, not to mention in my bed.  If his father only knew how the boy was already paying me back.

We all rode in his SUV to one of the best restaurants in town. I had only been there once, partly because of the prices, partly because I didn’t like getting dressed up to go out. But he was dressed as casually as the rest of us. His wife was dressed more up scale but I’m sure she considered it casual.  It was obvious by the way they greeted him that they knew him at the restaurant. He also knew the menu well. I noticed that he set the tone by ordering for himself and his wife, letting us know that we should feel free to order anything we wanted.

“So, Josh, how do you feel about having a boarder in your home for such a long time?” Mrs. Bush asked.

“I don’t consider Brady a boarder, Mrs. Bush.  I consider him more like a brother,” Josh replied, looking so earnest and innocent, practically angelic, that for a moment he actually convinced even me that all he felt for Brady was brotherhood.    

Godd, if she only knew, I thought.

“Well, I must thank you for taking time to tutor him,” she said.

“She thanks you… I thank you… I wouldn’t be wrestling or playing football if it weren’t for you,” Brady said.

“Well, I’m confident this will work out, you boys certainly seem to get along together,” Stewart Bush said. If HE only knew!  “And it is understood,” he went on in a very authoritative voice, looking at his son, “that Mr. Johnson’s rules are his rules and they will be followed to the letter.”

“Yes, sir, they will be,” Brady said.

“He won’t have any trouble there, Dad’s rules aren’t all that strict,” Josh put in. “But man, if you break ‘em, you’ll be dropping your pants to get the belt,” he added.

“Josh! When did I ever touch you with a belt!” I exclaimed.

“Well, okay, you never made me drop my pants,” he said.

We all got a good laugh, and the whole time I was thinking, if the Bushs only knew how many times their son had dropped his pants, and for something a lot rounder and harder than a belt.

***** 

Brady moved in officially the day before his parents left for Europe.  He put his things in the guest room, even though we all knew he wouldn’t be spending much time there.

He came up to me from behind and put his strong arms around me, nuzzling his lips against my ear.  “This is one of the best days of my life, Mr. J,” he said.  “Right up there with the very first time I ever fucked your ass.”

“I remember that night very well.  It… well, it completely changed my way of thinking.”

“Mine too,” he replied, squeezing his arms so tightly that for a moment I had trouble breathing.  I could feel his hardon pressing against my ass.  “Mmm, do you know how much I love being near you?  How much I love feeling your body against mine?”

I closed my eyes and concentrated on how it felt to have Brady near me, holding me.  Sure, he was the same age as my son, but with his powerful physical presence, I always felt more secure when he was with me.  Even though I always seemed to go along with what he said, it wasn’t like he was forcing me into anything; it was like he knew what I wanted before I knew it myself, and it wasn’t until he verbalized it that I knew it was what I wanted.  Or needed.

He must have been thinking along the same lines, for he said, “Dude, I am so good for you.”  He nibbled at my ear, then kissed me deeply, probing my mouth with his tongue.  “Do you realize how much more relaxed you’ve been looking since we started dating?  Josh pointed it out to me first, and now I see it, too.  And I can tell for myself how happy you are.”

I put my hands over his and leaned back against him.  “But am I good for you, Brady?”

“You accept me for who I am, Mr. J.  You make me happy, and you’re amazing in bed.  That’s all I want.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

He turned me around to face him.  “It is easy, if you let it be.  And,” he grinned, “with me, you don’t have to worry about your boyfriend finding out that you have the hots for your own son.”

Now that Brady was living with us, I noticed he sometimes borrowed my clothes.  “They make me feel like I’m near you all day, even when you’re not around,” he explained.  “Sometimes I can even smell your cologne on them.”  When we’d go out to dinner, sometimes he’d wear one of my dress shirts or sport shirts.  They were a size too small, and he looked damn sexy in them, his muscles straining against the fabric.  He also liked to wear my underwear.  It was a hot sight when he stripped off his clothes at night and revealed an all-too-familiar-looking pair of briefs.

Our sex life was even better than ever, if that were possible.  Brady was horny all the time, it seemed.

One time, he announced, “I want to fuck you while you’re wearing nothing but your dog tags, Mr. J.  While your son watches.”

Brady wanted me in Josh’s bed.  When the three of us were all naked, he had me get on my hands and knees on the bed, and entered me from behind.

With each thrust of his giant cock into me, he exclaimed, “Oh yeah, I’m fucking my boyfriend the ex-Marine.”  Then, “I’m fucking my boyfriend who’s the father of my fuckbuddy.”  Josh grinned, but Brady was so intent on fucking me that I don’t think he even remembered my son was watching anymore.  My favorite was, “I’m fucking my boyfriend who’s the sexiest guy I know.”

I couldn’t believe how good it felt to have another guy shoot his sperm inside me, much less that it was my son’s classmate doing it.  Brady’s declarations spurred me to my own.  “Fuck me, Brady,” I panted.  “Cum in my ass.  Breed me.”  My orgasm was as sudden as it was powerful, but somehow Brady felt it coming; just before my stiff cock began to shoot, he leaned down over me with his hands on the bed next to mine, and when I turned my head to try to look at him, he kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth.

But even after he came, he wasn’t finished with us.  After he pulled out, he told us, “Now you two switch places.”  He made me watch while he fucked my son; he hadn’t even cleaned off his cock, still coated with cum and lube from fucking me.  Josh was so turned on he went off almost immediately; Brady was working on his second load, so he took his sweet time, and by the time he shot his semen up Josh’s ass, Josh was cumming again.

Another time, he fucked Josh first, and after he came, he pulled out, still hard, and pushed me down on the bed, next to Josh.  I felt his cockhead at my hole, warm and slick with cum, and he paused for a moment to build my anticipation.  Then he pushed, and my ass opened up for him.  When he slid inside, it was a familiar, welcome sensation, and as always it filled me with lust and desire.  I loved-- I needed-- to feel Brady’s cock blasting off like a torpedo inside me.

***** 

Stewart Bush had set up several interviews with friends of his, or colleagues of friends.  All very respectable places: accounting firms, law firms, engineering companies, even an architect firm.  Somehow Brady managed not to get any callbacks.  But when I mentioned to Josh that the gym I went to was looking for help, Brady jumped at the chance.  I don’t think it was even the prospect of working near me that appealed to him; he just loved the gym: the athletes, the working out, the whole environment.

I called Brady’s father in Europe to tell him the news.  “Of course I would have preferred he was doing something that would look better on his college applications,” Mr. Bush said.  “But at least he’s earning some money for college, and this job will keep him in shape for football next season.”

Brady was right at home in the gym.  He got on well with everyone.  I saw the admiring looks he got and the heads he turned.  And even some of the established trainers appreciated the small workout pointers or suggestions he gave them.  Muscle and fitness was a topic he’d devoted a lot of time to as an athlete, and he knew what he was talking about.  The trainers practically preened when a guy in Brady’s amazing shape asked them for advice on working out.

Still, every time he passed me in the hall or saw me in the weight room, he flashed me a grin.  Even though he couldn’t show me how he felt in public, he never ignored me or dismissed me.

Once in a while he’d find me alone and give me a quick feel or a kiss; sometimes he’d just happen to shower at the same time I did, but we never had enough time or privacy to do anything there.  It was probably just as well.  Brady’s presence was more of a distraction than I’d expected, and I had to work even harder to focus on my own workouts.

From comments I overheard and glances I saw, it became obvious pretty quick that many of the gym patrons thought Brady was a sexy guy.  I thought so too, of course, and since he looked older than he was -- especially with his build more apparent in this environment -- and since few people even knew that I knew Brady, though I’d told the manager he was a friend of my son, the patrons saw no reason to hold back in their admiration.

I was surprised to find that I wasn’t at all jealous.  Maybe it was because I had more with Brady than they ever could; maybe I felt a little proud that I’d landed such a hot boyfriend.  I confess it turned me on a little to think of Brady possibly having sex with other people there, as risky as it would be for his job.

As it turned out, Brady was well aware of the risks, and though, as a teenager, he couldn’t help giving in to temptation occasionally, he actually made more of an effort that I’d expected to keep business separate from pleasure.

And as Brady wasn’t the type to keep secrets, he was quick to tell me of the few occasions when he had sex with someone else.  Only once did he go so far as to fuck someone, some businessman who was in town for a week for some conference. 

“I probably wouldn’t have done it at all if he hadn’t reminded me a little of you, Mr. J.  Not quite as built or as handsome, of course. But he was a pretty hot fuck.”

“Geez, Brady, you don’t have to butter me up.  You haven’t done anything I object to.”

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.  “That was no compliment, Mr. Johnson; it’s just plain fact.  Although the mention of buttering you up does give me some ideas. . .”

The most difficult situation for him was with a bodybuilder Luis, one of the personal trainers.  Luis sucked Brady off in one of the supply closets, and after that he kept looking for more opportunities to do it again. 

“He even asked me out on a date,” Brady told me in wonder.  “I almost laughed at the look on his face when I told him I already had a boyfriend.”  That didn’t dissuade Luis.  He kept asking Brady out, he didn’t push it further than the occasional blowjob he gave Brady.  Finally, over a month later, Luis latched on to some other hot stud, and pretty much ignored Brady after that.

To be continued... 

Posted: 02/26/10