It's All Relative belongs to ABC, not to me. The actors playing the characters in this story are gay (well, except for Bobby), but are not involved in real life, as far as I know. This is all fiction. Please don't take it as anything else. Don't read this if you aren't over 18. Please practice safe sex.
This is based on the gay "dads" on ABC's Wednedsay night (8:30 PM EST) sitcom. The show isn't the greatest but I do think they're a cute couple and worth watching. So I wrote this little story, since we certainly won't ever see anything besides hugging or shoulder-patting on the networks. Tell me what you think.
Bobby O'Neill felt like a normal guy in a strange land. He'd spent his entire life around macho, beer-swilling men. That they were straight wasn't even questioned. Homosexuals were just a figment of the media's imagination, a very small minority who deserved nothing but contempt for their depraved lifestyle.
Now he lived with two members of that minority, and they weren't that small after all.
Bobby mainly put up with them because he was engaged to the girl they'd raised. He'd moved in with her because of his family's negative reaction to the news. Suddenly he had to spend days and nights with two flaming queens. He knew every ugly word, and sometimes had to stop himself from yelling them out. These guys were at times very prissy and judgmental and the worst of what he expected.
Other times, they weren't what he expected at all. He never understood who played the man and who played the woman in queer relationships. In this one, Simon was muscular, confident, and witty. Yet he mainly stayed at home. Philip was of slimmer build, more effeminate, and balding. Yet, he was the primary breadwinner and at times the spokesperson for the couple.
Bobby watched them when they weren't looking. He watched them even when he didn't realize that's what he was doing. Studied their easy rapport, shared jokes and memories, the gentle pats on the arm or tender kisses on the lips or forehead. Even a brief clasping of hands or a quiet whisper over the dinner table. They weren't that different from his own parents. Yet, they were nothing like them.
Maybe this is how Bobby felt justified in standing outside their bedroom. They left the door partially open some nights, and although they weren't loud, one time he walked by and heard the usual light sighs, the inserting and releasing of general intercourse. He always wondered how guys fit their cocks into each other's holes, but most of the nights he'd seen Philip and Simon, they didn't bother. They would suck each other, or give hand jobs while they stared into each other's eyes and carressed each other's nude bodies. Their bodies were incredible for their age.
Tonight, Bobby stood outside their door in his boxer shorts, willing himself not to watch, but unable to resist. Simon took off his college professor-like glasses and Philip gave him a look. The look was pure hunger, tenderness and adoration, as if he could not imagine he had found such a marvelous human being to share his life with. He'd gazed at their daughter that way more than once. Simon would return Philip's lopsided grin with a crinkled smile of his own, and take him into his arms. A bear hug. They held each other for a few moments before they shared a gentle, loving kiss. Philip slowly usurped control of the liplock and Simon happily let the talented tongue ravish his mouth. Then they began to strip. They undid each other's cuffs. Simon unbuttoned Philip's blue dress shirt and Philip pulled Simon's sweater over his head. Simon's chest was incredibly broad and bronzed, as well as totally smooth, while Philip had a light dusting of hair on his stomach and chest.
Simon helped Philip out of his slacks and boxer shorts, exposing his surprisingly firm, pale cheeks, and average or maybe slightly above average endowment (Bobby hadn't studied enough dicks in his day to be an accurate judge). Philip kissed his way down Simon's chest, laving his pecs and abs and treasure trail in loving licks and bites, before unfastening Simon's belt with his teeth. No matter how many times Bobby saw those trousers lowered, he still gasped inside at the big bulge contained in the skimpy briefs underneath. Philip suckled the large, oozing cockhead through the dark blue fabric, slowly lowering the material inch by inch and grinning like an idiot when the fat, long prong slapped his cheeks. He eagerly brushed the erection across his cheeks, nose, and forehead, covering himself in his lover's early ejaculate.
Simon moaned as he was turned around. Bobby moaned, unknowingly massaging his own 7 hard inches through his boxers while he marveled at the round, expansive planes of Simon's sculpted ass. He had one of the largest, roundest, most beautiful butts Bobby had ever seen, an ass to make JLo weep with envy and Ben to weep with...something else maybe. Philip obviously appreciated his gift and sank his teeth sharply into both sweet cheeks before parting them to dive tonguefirst into the gooey center. This was the part where Simon hissed the loudest. Years of self-control kept him from screaming and whimpering for more.
Bobby wasn't surprised to see them getting a tube of lubricant. He was surprised that Philip, schlubby Philip, was the one lathering up. Simon's matinee idol face was pressed against a pillow, and he waved his bubble butt in the air, begging for entry. Philip mounted him, effortlessly, and they began a long, methodical, pleasurable session of anal sex. Bobby understood why they didn't do this every night. It was clearly something they only wanted and needed when they felt the time was right. The utter contentment on Philip's face as he played Simon's body like a violin, the way he stroked his scruffy hair while being milked by his velvet glove, the way his back arched and his dimpled buns squeezed when he mewled his pleasure and emptied his orgasm into Simon's body, was beautiful. They were lovers. Soulmates.
Bobby could deny that he respected them, he could deny that he had watched them and had just come in his own pants, he could deny that his fingers were sticky with his semen as he rubbed his mouth and tasted his own cream. But he would never deny their love for each other.
Philip stayed inside Simon as they curled up to sleep, Philip's head on Simon's barrel chest. An awkard but rehearsed fit. They fit in each other's arms perfectly. And knowingly or not, they had taught Bobby just how universal love truly was.
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