Friday, February 24, 2012

DADDY’S BOY

By Robert Ralph


I surveyed myself in the mirror once more and was happy with what I saw there. It bothered me a bit that I was so concerned with how I appeared to someone I'd never met, but that was the way I felt. My daily exercising paid off, and at forty six, I still had it together. Jogging every morning and going to the gym certainly paid off. The muscular image looking at me from the mirror was not one to be ashamed of.

It had been a spur of the moment decision to see Alex, a favor to his father, who had been on the wrestling team with me back in college. How many years ago? It seemed like yesterday. I'd read about the boy in the papers as he gained fame as a wrestler, but our paths had never crossed.

I was taken aback when I opened the door and saw him. Alex was in town to check out the state university, where he would probably enroll as a freshman in the fall. He had curly black hair and smoldering black eyes, reflecting his Greek ancestry. When he smiled, my heart raced. This young man was exactly my type, and the grin brightening his entire face excited me. As we exchanged looks, the air was charged with electricity. We both felt the instant chemistry.

"Mr. Sinclair?" he asked, extending his hand. "I'm Alex Pappos. My dad called you about me."

I was so turned on by his exquisite face and full, fleshy mouth that I could barely mumble, "Yeah . . . yeah, Alex. Come on in."
 


  "It's super of you to give me a few pointers about the university's wrestling team. Dad says you were one of the best wrestlers there and could help me a lot with my problem areas. He said you were on your way to the Olympics when a car wreck smashed all that."

I glanced down at the white scars I still carried on one knee. "That was quite a few years ago."

"Gosh," the gorgeous kid continued, "you sure don't look anywhere near as old as my dad, even with that salt and pepper hair of yours!" Intense looks raced between us again. The back of my neck tingled; my palms itched. "Dad dyes his hair and it looks fake, you know what I mean? It really makes him look older. You look just the same as those pictures he took when you two wrestled together."

"I wish I still looked like that — "

"Don't kid yourself, Mr. Sinclair. You do! I really thought you'd look Dad's age."

"I take that as a compliment," I said, happy I'd kept in shape with my regular workouts.

"That's the way I meant it!" he said, staring a hole through me with his piercing black eyes which were locked on me like radar. "Say, got some place I can put on my workout suit?" he asked, shaking his gym bag. We exchanged another heated glance.

"Right through here. There's a dressing area off my gym."

"Gosh, it must be great, having a gym at home!"

 I was having second thoughts about working with Alex now that I'd met him. My blood pressure was rising, and when he emerged wearing his clingy black wrestling suit, it went sky high. My half-hard got completely stiff in my jockstrap. His workout suit was tattered and worn so thin in places that I could see his pink skin through it. It only accentuated his stocky, five foot six inch body, which was well laced with corded young muscle. His pecs were perfectly outlined and one brown nipple stuck through a rip. The suit clung to his ripply stomach like a second skin, making an imprint where his navel was. The worn elastic pulled tight across his gigantic thighs, which sloped in knotted but graceful muscles to his large calves. But my gaze riveted on his huge box — both large balls were carefully outlined, and a sizeable dick flopped about five inches, limp.

"Shit, I forgot to bring my strap," Alex said, "but I figured it wouldn't make any difference today, right?" He adjusted his dick so that it hung to the left and was even more obvious than it had been. It hung over the mound of his nuts and pointed out from his body. That piece of meat kept my attention, and I wondered if I could make it through the lesson. I clasped my hands to stop them from shaking.

Everything started out fine; I mean, as fine as it could with me so preoccupied with his physical attributes. The boy knew his wrestling, and quickly proved that he was a prime contender for more than amateur bouts. We worked out the better part of an hour, until we were both hot and sweaty. His perspiration welded his thin suit even closer to his body, so that he was little better than naked. It fitted so snugly I could even tell he was circumcised. The close contact with his hard body, made even more desirable by his musky odor, got me really excited. My jock strap kept my condition hidden, however.

Alex had smooth skin that was tanned evenly. He had a small patch of curly black hair under his arms, but that was it. Streams of sweat trickled down and dampened his underarms. It was a rich, heady smell that made me a little dizzy. God, I was hot!

We were struggling on the mat. I nearly had him down for one last fall when he arched his back, thrusting upward until his box was almost in my face. A wave of pungent aroma rushed up my nose, the same as from under his arms, but stronger and more powerful. He squirmed to break my grip. To get more leverage, I slipped my right hand into a crotch hold, and his balls brushed my palm. I couldn't restrain the urge to give them a healthy squeeze. They burned into my hand. I rubbed back and forth, stretching the workout suit sensually across them. The worn elastic tore, and a puff of black pubic hair forced itself out.

Alex kept his back arched and I pressed harder against his ball sack. The elastic, ragged from countless washings, broke and one ball popped out. It was larger than a Grade AAA chicken egg, and covered with curly hair. He struggled more, seemingly unaware of his predicament, and the other one popped free. Then his cock began to stiffen as I exerted force against its base, feeling its heat through the thin material. I closed my eager fingers around the thick shaft, pulling down slightly, watching the wide head swell. The only sound was an occasional grunt as he made an effort to free himself. I pulled down which forced his cock to stand about two inches away from his body, then slid my hand back up to its pulsing head. I stroked several times up and down the burning shaft before his body went entirely rigid.

Alex let go with a gutteral, "Un-n-n-n!" as I squeezed his distended cockhead, yanking the sheer material tight across the most sensitive area behind the top. His growling got louder. He pushed, jamming his steaming dick against my hand. We stayed like that for a second: me stroking down, him pushing up. A big damp spot appeared as he spurted a large quantity of pre-cum. Suddenly, he shook all over like he was having a chill.

He yelled, "Un-n-n!" once more, and a wad of cum saturated his crotch and splattered into my palm.

He cried, "UN-n-n-n-n!" and spewed burst after burst of cum all over himself. He pumped wad after wad, shooting everywhere, his gigantic nuts unloading a flood of sticky cream. The tip of my own cock tingled. I gritted my teeth, clenched Alex's spurting cockhead, and unloaded in my jock strap. My cum ran piping hot, then sticky and cold. I kept tickling his cockhead until his cum looked like a white glove on me. Alex collapsed on the mat, one muscular arm flung over his face. A low, unintelligible groan escaped from his lips as I fingered the fabric stuck to his softening cock. Finally, I wiped my hands on the mat and sat up, weak and happy.

"Whew-wee!" Alex whistled, struggling to his feet. "You sure know how to give one hell of a lesson!" As he stood up, another dribble of cum leaked out of his dick and trickled down his front.
 
 "Alex, I — "

"Jesus!" he said, glancing at the clock. "Look at the time. I've really got to be going!" He rushed to the dressing room, pulled on his trousers and came out, his gym bag trailing the rest of his things. I felt a strong grip on my shoulder.

"Say, Mr. Sinclair, see you on Friday, same time, just like we planned!" He flashed that intense stare which cut right through me.

"I guess so," I mumbled.

"Great!" he said, giving my shoulder another squeeze. "Terrific workout!" he said, and slammed the door behind him.

I got up slowly and went to shower. It's uncomfortable walking with a jockstrap full of drying cum, and it pinched a little. In the dressing area as I stripped, I noticed something flung in the corner. "Damned little bastard!" I thought, as I picked up a tattered jock strap. He'd left it off deliberately! Friday was only two days away, and I could hardly wait. This time I'd really show him. He'd done a number on me. Next session would be my turn.

Alex arrived as he'd said on Friday. I had every intention of keeping him at arm's length, emotionally. But he had a mischievous grin on his face. Our mutual attraction couldn't be disguised.

"Where's your gym bag?" I asked.

"Didn't need it," he said, grinning a devilish grin.

"Where's your workout suit?"

"Won't need it, either."

 "But — "

"Mr. Sinclair, there's something I've been wanting to try, ever since I started wrestling. And I think you're the man to do it with. You know, kind of a fantasy trip."

"What's that?"

"I want to wrestle the way my Greek ancestors did." He started unbuttoning his shirt, revealing that smooth, well muscled chest of his. "Like the statues we see in museums."

"Alex, I'm not sure we — "

He unbuckled his trousers and took them off. "Come on, Mr. Sinclair. Be a sport!" He'd shucked his underwear, giving me a complete view of his naked body. He tugged his dick a couple of times. "Come on, man, hustle out of those clothes and show me the real thing!"

I went to the cabinet and got a bottle of baby oil. "They greased up, you know," I said, barely able to form the words. He snatched the bottle from me and began coating his chest. He looked wet under the thin coat of oil. Somewhat reluctantly, I undressed. I didn't know if I could handle this.

Alex began rubbing oil across my chest. "Gorgeous pecs," he said, letting his hand spread the oil down my washboard stomach. My cock twitched and extended a little as his hand brushed my pubic hair. He handed me the bottle.

"Rub some on my back." He bent forward and grabbed his knees, throwing his rounded melon shaped buns towards me. My dick came completely to life at that sight. My hands slipped along his back, then hesitated before going lower.

"Go on," he whispered, "rub some all over. Okay?" He looked around and gave me that impish grin of his.

My hands moved down his hips and into the crack of his ass. He pushed further out, spreading the opening slightly. His asshole was ringed with curly black hair. I let my fingers play around the ridge and found it fiery hot. I slapped him on the butt and said, "Let's get started."

The oil made us slippery and we floundered around the mat with hands and legs sliding. Alex had a roaring hard-on almost the minute we hit the floor. He got on his hands and knees and lowered his face to the mat. That beautiful ass was high in the air.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He laughed. "Showing you my best position!" He wiggled from side to side.

I grabbed him around his slippery waist and brought my trembling erection next to him. I said softly, "You little fucker!" He laughed. I raked my dick up and down the crack of his ass, teasing, titillating, delaying penetration. I was so anxious I almost had a premature ejaculation.

"Hey, Daddy," Alex said softly, "put it in! Stop messing around and fuck me." His ass opening was smack against my dickhead. He backed onto me, sliding his ass on my dick like a wiener on a coat hanger, slowly, enjoying every sensation. The further in I got, the louder he groaned. "Stick it all the way in!" he whispered. "Shove those nine inches where it counts, Daddy! Fuck me with that dick. Stretch my asshole!"

My hands groped his sweaty pubic hair. One hand squeezed his nuts, the other pulled his rigid cock. My hands worked as furiously as my dick, the oil lubing us until we writhed in pleasure.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," he moaned, twitching up and down on my throbbing cock. "Shove that hot stick deeper. Shoot in me till you swab my tonsils with that hot daddy load of yours. Fuck me! God, fuck me!"
 
 I jabbed around and around, his talk exciting me as much as his fabulous ass. Suddenly, he pushed all the way against my stomach, gripped my dick so tight with his sphincter that I thought he'd cut it off, and let out a blood curdling scream. His dick erupted a firehose spurt of scalding cum, splashing into my hands and dripping down my wrists, as he unloaded. He thrust his dick wildly into my oily fingers, fucking the daylights out of my palms, covering my hands with gobs of sticky juice. We slowly inched forward, one small step for each burst of cum, traveling almost to the edge of the mat, crawling and cumming. My dick scraped against the walls of his butt, twitched uncontrollably, and blasted its load into his guts. Gradually, we fell to the mat, exhausted. The oil caused beads of sweat to ball up like little clear sequins on our bodies.

Without a word, Alex's oily arm went around me. Our mouths meshed in a sensuous, demanding kiss. It lasted and lasted, until I could barely breathe. I ran my hands along his oily body, the closeness causing us both to regain our erections.

"You about ready to sock it to me again?" Alex whispered.

"In a minute. Give me a chance to catch my breath."

Alex leaped to his feet and pulled on his trousers. "Okay," he said happily, "but only a minute. While you're doing that, I'll bring in my bags."

"You'll do what?"

"Get my things out of the car. Dad thought it was swell of you to offer to put me up the first semester."

"But I didn't offer to — "I stammered.

Alex knelt down beside me and planted a big, wet kiss on me, running his hands through my damp hair. "No, but you're going to, aren't you?"

 "Alex — "

"Aren't you?"

I looked at him long and hard. He returned the look with his intense, overpowering gaze that would melt an iceberg.

"Do you have much to bring in, or do you need some help?" I finally asked.

"Stay right where you are!" he said. "I'll be back in a jiffy for the rest of my lesson!"

As I waited for him to return, I kept wondering, "How long is a semester these days, anyway?"

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