Daddy's Pimp

By Macout Mann

Published on Jun 9, 2013

Gay

This is a fictional story that involves overt sexual activity between males. If you find such offensive or if you are below the age that where you live the reading of such material is illegal, please read no further.

Please let me know what you think of the story. Your reaction means a lot, whether positive or negative. I will respond to each email.

Reach me at macoutmann@yahoo.com.

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Copyright 2013 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.

DADDY'S PIMP

by Macout Man

V

Kyle still needed to find a more permanent replacement for Wilbur. The next day, however, it was Guido's turn.

Guido was only five-foot-six, but he carried a nine incher between his legs and he relished using it whenever he could. That included sessions with a couple of the other mechanics at the dealership where he worked as well as the occasional customer. He worked in company-issued coveralls, which were usually unbuttoned down to his navel, suggesting there was nothing underneath.

Kyle picked him up when he got off work and brought him to the den. He always wanted to have a shower to remove the grease that accumulated at work and he asked Jimmy to join him. Kyle was glad to oblige, although he didn't yield to the temptation to get Guido off. That was a pleasure his father first reserved for himself, but both boys enjoyed feeling each other up as hot water splashed on their bodies. And later after Roger went back upstairs, Kyle would certainly drain down his gullet whatever was left in Guido's ball sack.

Roger seemed to particularly enjoy Guido. Kyle guessed it was the way the young Hispanic used his body with compete abandon. He relished doing whatever felt good and having others use him for whatever gave them pleasure. And he could care less what others thought about him. Kyle wished he could feel as free, and he thought his dad probably felt the same way.

Kyle watched as his dad would straddle Guido and drag his balls over the boy's face or chest or up and down his back. Roger would lie back and have Guido gobble up his low hangers and then tongue his ass. This was their foreplay. Then they would suck and fuck with feverish disregard for anything but their own cravings. And after they had both satisfied their carnal urges they would collapse, panting, into each other's arms.

The next day was bright. Kyle headed for Jefferson Park to see what the pickings were. Jefferson was huge with broad meadows, playing fields, and nature trails that meandered through the woods. There were a few cars backed into their parking places—that's usually a tell for guys looking for something--but most of the occupants were over forty. Kyle stopped to check out a tea room, but the only dude inside was jailbait. He made a couple of circles of the park and then noticed an empty grey U. S. Government sedan parked near one of the trails. Plain curiosity led him to check it out.

He parked and walked up the trail about five or six hundred feet to where a rustic bridge crossed a small creek. Leaning against the railing was a young sailor in dress whites, staring at the swirling water below. When he heard approaching footfalls, he turned to face Kyle. His face was deliciously beautiful, features perfectly symmetrical, a broad forehead topped by his navy white hat, and his trim hips were accented by his tailored uniform. A patch of auburn hair peeked above the t shirt that underlay his jumper and black neckerchief.

"Hi," Kyle smiled. "This is the last place I'd expect to find a sailor."

"I 'spect so," the young man laughed. "I'm just here on temporary recruiting duty. But I'm also from here, and this used to be one of my favorite hangouts. Real peaceful. I'm between appointments, so I thought I'd stop by and see what's going on."

The phrase, "what's going on," caused Kyle's ears to prick up.

"Not much going on so far," Kyle said. "I've been here for a half hour or so. Just a few old farts sitting around in cars." He watched closely for the sailor's reaction. He seemed to understand Kyle's implications. At least he wasn't ruffled.

"I'm Jimmy," Kyle offered his hand.

Taking it, the sailor answered, "Curtis. Curtis Holloway."

"Good to meet ya, Curtis." Then pointing to the crossed quills on the sailor's left arm, Kyle asked, "So what does that mean?"

"Oh, that says I'm a yeoman...third class. Means I'm sort of a clerical type. The reason I'm here is that they're try'n to see if they can get better recruiting results if they use locals that know the people and the territory. And also if they use younger guys. I'm a fucking guinea pig."

"So you'll be here how long?"

"Prob'bly three months."

Kyle casually scratched his balls. "So you been getting into anything?"

"Not a fucking thing."

"Just recruiting, eh?"

"Well, the station made its quota this month. That's something."

They stood side by side peering down at the creek. Kyle broke the silence.

"Well, I'm not a prospect for the navy, but if you wanna hang out, we might get into something."

"That'd be neat."

"What time you free?"

"I'm off duty at five. You?"

"Why don't I pick you up at five?"

"You know where the recruiting station is, at 3rd and Market?"

"Yeah. I'll see you there at five."

Curtis walked back to the beginning of the trail. When he was out of sight, Kyle called Roger. "Got you some seafood, Dad," he giggled.

Kyle arrived at the recruiting station five minutes early and waited in his car until Curtis came out. "I wasn't sure you'd show," Curtis admitted.

"Oh, I never stand up a date," Kyle answered. Curtis didn't react to the word "date." That was good. "You want something to eat before we go to my place?"

"Sure, why not?" Curtis replied.

They went to a nearby deli, where Kyle finally cut to the chase. "What all you into?" he asked.

"About everything, Curtis responded. "Not that I'm all that experienced. I got started with my dad. Mom caught us one time and divorced him. Made my life miserable trying to turn me straight. So I joined the navy. Not a whole lot of day to day opportunities when you're in the service."

"My dad likes to mess around." Kyle seized the opportunity to open up. "He doesn't get together with me, but he'd sure as hell love to play around with you. We might get you into some shit."

"Father and son," Curtis laughed. "That'd be awesome."

They both ordered hot pastrami on rye. Kyle had a Coke, Curtis a beer. He got carded, so Kyle learned that he was 22.

After finishing their meal, Kyle drove to his parents' house and they entered the den. Like everybody else Curtis was surprised, when he first saw the room. And Kyle told him, like everybody else, it was his dad's idea, but it was a great place for fun, and he immediately stripped off his t shirt and jeans. It took much longer for Curtis to get out of his uniform, which he carefully laid out on a nearby table. "Trouble with recruiting duty is that you've always got to look inspection ready," he laughed.

"Well, I sure like what I'm inspecting," Kyle chuckled. He led the sailor to the mattress and soon they were enjoying each other's bodies. Curtis had a real mat of auburn hair covering his chest and gut as well as a forest of pubic hair.

Kyle's nose was buried in Curtis pubes, and tip of Curtis' dick was pressed against Kyle's glottis, when Roger's voice was heard. "Am I interrupting?"

As soon as Kyle was able to speak, he answered, "Sure are, Dad, but this is Curtis. I think he might rather be with you than me."

Next: Chapter 6


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