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Jason's First Workout, Part VI -- History and New Beginnings
Luke:
At 4:30 PM I couldn't stand it any longer and told Brock we should wake the boy up.
"He's been asleep for more than 8 hours. I know he's probably starving and I need some answers," I chided.
"Okay," he said, "But listen Doc. Go gently. Why don't we make a boy sandwich?"
"You're on!" I said and we tiptoed quietly into the darkened guest room, each lying down on one side of Jason. Brock, with his manly girth, spooned up behind him on the left, and I, on top of the covers facing him on his right. While Brock embraced him, I began to rub Jason's stubbled cheek and gently kissed him on the lips, wiping a bit of drool off his lower lip.
"Good afternoon, Sweet Prince. Hey, it's almost supper time. You gonna wake up?" I chided.
He began to stir and looked up into my eyes and spooned back into his Dad's arms. "Mmhm. What a way to wake up." He yawned, stretched, and asked, "How long have I been out?"
"About 8 hours," I answered. "It's about half past 4 now."
"Damn," he exclaimed, still yawning. "I was so beat."
"Brock made your favorite guac and blue chips and I've got some flank steak marinating. We thought we'd make those fajitas you like later." I soothed.
"But first," Brock began nuzzling his neck, "we want to eat our boy sandwich!" With that we began to hug, kiss, and tickle him all over. I kissed his eyelids, his cheeks, and neck and tried to pull him into me while Brock nuzzled his neck, tickled his sides through the covers, and tried to manhandle us both into a hug.
"God! you guys," Jason started pushing us off, "I know you love me, but if I don't get out of this bed and piss its gonna be a mess!"
"Hell, your Doc loves piss play, dontcha Luke?" Brock teased me, as we both got up to set him free. "He wouldn't mind your pissing all over the room!"
"Stop and let the boy up, B," I chuckled. "Meet us in the kitchen when you finish up, son."
"Yeah, good luck pissing through that boner, Junior," Brock teased as Jason emerged from the covers naked except for some tight electric blue Andrew Christian boxer briefs with a visible hard-on. Brock slapped at it as I drug him out of the room and Jason entered the guest room bath right behind us.
"You pick on him too much," I argued. "He's had a rough few days."
"It's how we show our love around here," Brock retorted. "How many times per day do you slap me on the head, slap my ass, or punch me. I swear I feel like a damn punching bag some days!"
"You love it," I laughed, "and most of the time, you deserve it. I find bruises on my biceps every day, so don't get me started," and I pulled him into a quick kiss. "Now get out the guac and chips."
Jason walked into the kitchen pulling up his UA workout shorts over his boxers, still shirtless, and then rubbed his eyes some more with the heels of his hands. Brock reached out a chip loaded with his favorite guacamole and placed it in front of his mouth. Jason opened and let his Dad feed it to him and said, "Hmm, great," while chewing, and then "as good as I remembered."
"Come here and sit beside me," I motioned to one of the barstools. As he did, I reached my left arm around his bare shoulders and said, "Ready to tell us all about it now that you're well rested." He leaned his head into my left shoulder, put his right hand on my left thigh and squeezed.
"I guess so. God, it's just so good to be home with you guys. I've missed you so much and FaceTime and Zoom are just not the same as waking up to a boy sandwich, or getting one or both of your sweaty hugs," Jason sighed.
"We're here for you, 24-7, son. You know that," Brock encouraged as he sat the platter in front of us on the counter. Reaching behind him, he pulled out 3 shot glasses and the bottle of Jose' Cuervo and placed those on the counter too. "I thought we might all do with some liquid courage to get us through this reunion conversation." And he began to pour into each glass.
"Not a bad idea, Dr. Goodman," I complimented my husband.
"Thanks, Dr. Smith. Sometimes I am an intuitive father, too, you know," He countered.
"Always, Stud!" I agreed. We each picked up a glass, clinked glasses, and threw back the shots.
"Damn, I forgot the limes and salt," Brock exclaimed, reaching behind him. I took mine neat but Jay sucked on a lime slice and then stuffed it in front of his teeth and smiled at us.
"Thust lak ol thimes," he stuttered out, and we all laughed as he pulled the peel out of his mouth.
"Okay Champ," I prodded. "We're lubed with Jose. Get talking. What the fuck happened?"
Jason ducked his head, then looked up into Brock's eyes across the counter for additional encouragement. Then, he took a deep breath and began the narrative.
Jason:
"There've been issues for a while though I didn't want to face up to them. Before your visit last Fall there were a lot of excuses about how he might not be able to be there for everything I wanted to do with y'all. He was heavily into recruiting season and he might be called away, etc. And then the night before y'all flew in, we had a big fight about your staying at the Condo. He didn't know why you couldn't stay in a hotel, and I told him you'd said that I'd insisted you stay with us. But he knew this. Ever since we bought it, I specifically wanted 3 bedrooms so there'd be a guest room if my Dads came to visit or my brothers. He KNEW that. And I didn't understand the big problem. So that was one fight. Honestly, I think a lot of this goes back to his issues with his parents and his Dad not accepting him when he came out. He and his Mom have made real progress, but only because I kept talking to her and pushing them together. A lot of lunches that I organized. His Dad will sometimes show up and even stay for a meal. But there's no conversation still between the two and I know it just eats him up inside."
I paused to catch my breath.
Dad said, "I know Butch and his Dad have had issues always, but I thought things were better."
"I don't know that they were better, just quieter. Or maybe more polite. BC Junior didn't curse him anymore, or pretend he didn't exist, but there's no love there, Dad. And honestly, I think half of it was Butch's injury and not making it to the majors, like he did. I think the being gay was just the cherry on Junior's sundae of disappointment. He grew up being Bradford Clayton Daley, Junior's number 1 son and heir. Ready to be the next major league champ just like his dad. He grew up in the Giant's dugout for God sake. His not making it to the majors was a huge blow for his Dad. I begged Butch to see someone. I offered to go to therapy with him even, but he just pushes it all down inside him like it's the super-macho trip and he's got it all under control but when he doesn't... when it comes, out, well. It's not good."
"Wait a minute," Doc interrupted. "What do you mean, it's not good? Son, did he lay a hand on you? Did you let him?" Brock intervened and reach across to Luke, "whoa Baby, just let the boy talk."
"No, I want to know if that little SOB in training pants ever hit you?" Doc asked?
"There've been a couple of times where things got out of hand," I tried to explain. "One of those was during rough sex, Doc, but I kind of egged him on."
"Bullshit," Luke retorted. "I'm not buying into that."
"Luke," Brock interrupted. "Just let him tell it. You've got to try and listen instead of over-reacting to each part or we'll never hear it all."
"Over-reacting?" He yelled, and Brock poured three more shots.
"Here. One more, and you," he pointed at Doc. "Zip it." We each threw back a shot and I tried to go on, though the burn down my gullet was making it hard to start.
"You know. The first 3 or 4 years were so amazing. Sex was never an issue for us. I mean we fucked everywhere and every chance we could from that first blind date my second year in graduate school when Carey, the guy who had a work study in sports medicine, remember him? He introduced us. He said `there's this sexy, injured ballplayer you should meet. He's always flirting with me after his PT and my gaydar is going off strong, Jason.' And then, when we met at that Tapas bar that spring semester in Palo Alto, he was so sexy. I mean even on crutches trying to get over his knee injury, the knots in his shoulders and his biceps were just bulging that grey baseball tee his was wearing." I blushed, "I mean you guys know, right? I just fell... heavy in lust with him and I'd had my share of guys at that point after almost two years in Cali," I went on.
"We know, Stud," Brock agreed. "Don't embarrass the Doc here with a list of all the jock boys you'd fucked over your grad school career. He still thinks you spent most of your time studying and working out."
"Fuck you, B," Luke said. "I knew he'd be sex on a stick to every one of those business types once they heard that Southern accent and saw those blue eyes. I just wanted him to focus on developing his mind, not just his dick."
"And I did, Dads," I went on. "I mean, things worked out right. Degree with honors, came out with that great internship at Google, and then the start-up and now a second company on my own. But Butch was always it for me. The reason for it all! He had to fight his battles -- the injury and no career, then confessing his love for coaching, then confessing his sexuality -- and when it leaked in The Cardinal! I mean, we'd only dated for a month when he was essentially forced out of the closet and then to be confronted by his own Dad? I know it still haunts him to this day. Which is why I've always cut him some slack. I know part of the issue with us is that he is jealous. Neither of you is my biological Dad and yet you love me, and support me. Hell, Chase and Sam aren't my biological brothers and they love and support me, or we do each other. I think deep down, ( I took a breath) he's always been jealous of what we have and when you guys come to town, or the few times I convinced him to fly out here, he was sullen and not the way it was with just us at home. These last two or three years it's just gotten worse. When we were fighting all of that early stuff, together, it's like we had a common purpose. Us against the world. And then, he got the grad assistantship and then an assistant coach position. I was becoming, as he insults me, a "corporate guy" and we just started, I don't know, having to work at it more."
"Son, it's hard in any relationship." Luke soothed. "You think Brock and I could have made this work for so long without some patience and good luck."
"and lots of tequila," Brock added.
"And make up sex," Luke chimed in and smiled. "Champ. You worked at it. When you guys got married, it was like you had eyes for no one else. We could see that. Until these last few months, I never had any indication that anything was wrong. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."
"It's okay. I didn't want you to worry," I responded. "And Dad and I did talk sometimes but, wait," As Luke sat up bristling, "I didn't want you to worry and I asked Dad not to share anything bad with you. I knew you'd want to come out there, or you'd try to fix it, and," here I couldn't keep the tears back again, "I wanted to be a man and fix it on my own. I wanted to be the man you guys helped me to be, and I didn't want you to..." I trailed off as Luke pulled me into him.
"Son, we are always proud of you. I'm glad you felt you could call on your Dad to help you through it. And you're probably right. I'm a fixer," Luke said and he looked at Brock levelly. "He's great at seeing the positive and being the encourager. That's why I love him so much. Now, do you feel like you can keep talking and tell us the rest?"
Brock began refilling the shot glasses.
"Another one?" he asked us. I looked at Luke. He raised an eyebrow.
We each reached for the glasses at the same time, clinked them and threw it back. I grabbed the salt and lime and sucked and felt my eyes watering. I reached for a few more chips and guac. If I didn't eat something, I'd pass out before I could finish.
"There were lots of little things," I began again. "Remember that summer you let the boys come out for a month. Butch had started his first year as a real coach that winter and then we'd had the wedding in June. We were in that small, cramped apartment in Palo Alto with just two bedrooms and one bathroom, but I was so excited for Chase and Sam to come in August. And excited they wanted to come visit their gay step-brother. And Butch had been so happy that I was happy, and he encouraged the whole thing, but it was like after they got there, he was so jealous. His season was over and they didn't have to worry about much but he just was grumpy the entire time. And I had so looked forward to it. I wanted to show him off and show the boys Stanford and the area and hike, and everything was just so hard. He acted like a spoiled brat half the time. I remember one night, it was so damned hot and we'd hiked that day and then all just showered and sat around in our underwear. Sam was so tired he'd finally gone to bed. Chase and I were just sitting there swapping funny stories about the two of you, like we do, and I could tell Butch was fuming and then wanting me to come to bed so that we could fuck. But I was just enjoying the night out on that cramped, tiny little balcony on Pritchett Drive, looking out across the range toward the lights of Sausalito and San Jose. I wasn't going to let him piss on my mood and finally, Mr. Grump Ass went to bed. I remember Chase looking right at me and asking, is everything okay?' And I lied, and said never better. He just gets grumpy when he's tired. And he's an only kid, he doesn't get what it's like to have brothers.' Chase just laughed and reminded me he'd had one for 20 years but I'd only had two for the last five or so years. He was always so intuitive. You know, we've gotten real close over these last few years. I'm sorry I missed being here when he was still here. Anyway... Chase said,"I know what you see in him." And I laughed, thinking he would make a big cock joke or something. But he went on, "Well, he's a big jock, yeah. But he looks like Dad."
I was startled but I said, "He's not like Doc at all."
"Not like him, no." Chase said, "He's dark haired and dark eyed. Handsome and swarthy and big. He does look like Dad, J. But he's not like him. Not at all."
"I always wondered what my little brother meant by that but thinking over it these last months, he was right, Dads. He doesn't have your heart, Luke, and he sure as hell didn't protect me the way Brock does. I fell for the package. And because he needed saving, and I thought I could save him the way you guys saved me. I just didn't ever think he could hurt me like this."
"Jason, what did he finally do?" Brock asked.
"What do you mean finally?" Luke interrupted. "Was there lots of other stuff too and what did you know about it?"
"Just let him tell it, Luke," Brock fussed and I did.
"Last Fall, I had called Brock after you all left because I just felt lousy about how your visit had gone, how he had acted, and I needed some advice. He was insulting me more and more, and I'm a big boy, I mean, words don't hurt, and honestly, I had let myself go a bit..." I started.
"Wait a minute," Doc interrupted again. "The fucker called you fat?" Luke was always super body-conscious but was so hyper-protective when it came to any of us.
"Doc, I was working 24-7. You saw me last August. The startup with Dennis was going nuts and I was in on every decision. Gym-time was not my priority and honestly, I wasn't that into sex anymore either. I know it's hard for you two to believe, but I was just so tired half the time." Brock laughed at me.
"Champ, we all go through work challenges, and believe it or not, even your sexy Dads take a break sometime, but this wasn't good-natured stuff, right?" Brock asked.
"When I called Dad," I said looking back at Luke, "I felt that he was purposely ridiculing me to get me riled up. I would come home and ask about his day, whether it was training the freshmen, or recruiting or whatever. I mean, my work was blowing up , but I'd try and ask about his day and if I said one word about how tired I was or how hard it was, he'd blow up. I was lording' it over him about my six-figure income and my responsibilities because he was just a lowly ball coach. The self-esteem stuff was big with him. And our salaries. And you know, I learned from you guys. I insisted on SHARED everything. I said it didn't matter what we made. His was mine and vice versa just like you guys taught me, but I know it rankled him. And then it was little stuff he'd say. My chubby boy needs to come to practice with me so I can sweat off some of that fat.' Or `that fancy expense account and those fancy lunch meetings are putting the pounds on that ass. Hope my cock can find that hole under all that.' It was just, mean. And I tried to swat it away, or wrestle and act like it was play, but he just got meaner and meaner. Finally, after he refused to fly home with me for Thanksgiving or have his parents over, I'd had enough. I was getting up at 5:30 AM every morning to hit the new gym at the office before my day started at 8 and I was usually beat by the time I got home. But every day I was home and half the time starting dinner before he was. He came in behind me one night that week before Thanksgiving and started in on me. Swatting me on the ass, asking if I was cooking up something for him like the good pussy-wife I was and I just had had enough! I grabbed his hands off my ass and shoved him against the counter. I told him if he ever called me a pussy again, I'd break his other knee. It was a cheap shot -- knees were not a joke in our house, and I meant it to get a rise out of him but he really exploded, and he grabbed me around the throat."
I could feel Doc flinch to my right as Dad came around the counter and hugged him from behind. "Go on, Son," Brock said. "He grabbed you and what did you do?"
"He was choking me, not playing, really choking me, and I could feel the breath starting to go out of me. You know he's got a couple of inches on me though then I probably still had a few pounds on him. I swung with my right fist and felt it connect, hard enough to get him to let go his grip on my throat, but he swung with his left and he decked me. I hit the floor. Hard. I swear I saw stars. Then the next thing, he was on top of me and we were thrashing around in the kitchen and both cussing and calling each other names. I could feel blood running in my face but I didn't know if it was mine or his (later I'd realize I'd bloodied his nose good). But then I was on top of him and just started shaking him and saying, "you son of a bitch, you son of bitch, how could you?" and he just started crying, and then the next thing I know, we were kissing and his shorts were off and then my bloody dress shirt and slacks, and I was fucking him on the kitchen floor but I was still mad, you know. No lube or anything I just took him and it hurt my dick too, but, I don't know. It was... I was like trying to fuck the mean out of him, out of us..." I trailed off and looked at my Dads who were just both looking at me with a strange look. Sorrow maybe? Anger? I couldn't tell.
"It's okay to have rough sex when both partners agree, Bud," Brock began, but Luke cut him off.
"That's not what that was, and you know it, Brock! Did you guys come to blows like that again, Son?" Luke asked.
"No, Doc. I mean, I was trying to bulk up more and be stronger. Not be a `fatty' to him and I know, don't say it. He doesn't determine what I look like and how I feel about myself. I know that when I'm sitting here talking to my Dads, who love me. But it's hard when you're living in it and someone else you love is saying it to you over and over. I wanted him to want me again like that. I wanted him to think I was ripped, not a fat pussy. And honestly, I wanted to be strong enough to beat the shit out of him if he ever grabbed me by the throat like that again," I said.
"Did he?" Luke asked quietly.
"New Year's Eve," I stated and reached for the bottle of Jose and filled one shot glass for myself. I lugged the shot and felt the sweet burn down my throat and closed my eyes. "We left Jake and Scotty's party early because he thought some gay art dealer from SF was flirting with me. He wasn't, but it didn't matter. Once Butch was in a shitty mood, I didn't want to make a scene and ruin the party and I knew it'd be easier just to leave. We walked into the condo and he said, got a little muscle back and think you can fuck whatever San Francisco faggot swishes his ass for you?' I'd had just enough of Scotty's signature mojitos to get right back into his face and say better a hot body with a brain than a washed up, limped dick, jock.' He took a swing at me, but this time I was ready. I grabbed his fist, twisted his arm up behind him and spun him around against the wall of the foyer. I pushed him up against the wall hard and just held him there, grinding my cock into his ass. I'm embarrassed to say I was getting hard and I just whispered into his ear that if he ever took a swing at me again or tried to hurt me in any way, he'd wake up with his cock missing or worse. Then I went into the guest room, took a shower, got into the bed, and woke up there alone on New Year's Day. And thus, this shitty 2020 began!"
"I could beat the shit out of the little cocksucker," Luke seethed. Brock held him and said, "it's alright now. The boy can obviously take care of himself. What happened after that, Bud?"
"Well Dad, I did apologize that morning. I knew he'd never apologize. I said I was sorry for losing my temper but I wasn't sorry about standing up for myself. I asked, again, if he was willing to go to a counselor. He said, hell no, as always. I said if we couldn't work on this I didn't know what would happen to us. Then he started to cry again, and said he didn't want to lose me. He was a piece of shit... etc. I mean, this is how every fight has ended over the last three years. He doesn't want us to get help, but he thinks if he just starts with the woe is me thing I'll fall for it. It got harder and harder for me to sympathize. Then after some stuff that Dad told me, I asked him if he ever thought about fucking other guys. I asked him if he thought we should maybe play around together." I saw Luke shoot Dad a `what the fuck? Look, but I ignored them and went on with my story.
"He then got really mad. He said if I wanted to fuck around with other guys, I should just leave him and go do it. It totally back-fired and I had to say that I was working as hard as I could because I loved him. I still love him! But I didn't know what else to do. I think that got his attention for a while. He was really good for a few weeks. He was back into training with the spring semester, the season was six weeks away and he's always better when Baseball is on the horizon. But it didn't last long. By the end of January, I felt like we were just roommates passing in the hallway. I had stayed in the guest room since New Year's and only came with my right hand."
"I'm sorry, Son," Luke said. "Not having the one you love want to be with you has to be the toughest punch of all."
"And then the pandemic," Jason began. "Being stuck in a 3 Bedroom condo with a guy who you think doesn't love you anymore is about the shittiest thing the world can throw at you."
"Damn," Brock agreed.
"The association gave us one-hour blocks in the gym and no one wanted 5 AM, so of course I took it to get as much time as I needed. I ran the bay overlook every other day. I binge watched Longmire and ran virtual meetings with clients, ran more meetings with staff via Zoom and Google Meets, and just tried to go, go, go as hard as I could. I tried to cook special meals for him but he was pissed the season was cancelled. Pissed I was in the guest room, and just pissed in general. Somedays he didn't come out of our room, shower, or do anything. And after calling me fatty for months, he was starting to get a little paunchy. And, his part is thinning in the back (I haven't called in on that yet because I didn't want to set him off more.) But I want you to know, I did try. A couple of times, he went out, not for a run or anything but just out and I'd ask, `you want me to come with you?' and the answer was always No. I worried he'd bring Covid back home and we'd both get sick. I mean, I was either working, working out, or worrying all the time."
"Sounds like someone else I know," Brock snorted looking at Luke. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree!"
"I know." He agreed.
I went on. "When we started opening back up a bit, I was happy to be transitioning back to the office. I had to be there. Dennis and I were the faces of the company. We needed to implement transition plans, work arounds, everything. But I kept on Butch to ask if we could go to counseling, if we could maybe date, like we were starting over? But he wasn't willing to do anything. Then, a few weeks ago, right before I called you guys, right after we had to put Trigger down, you know? I had a break at the office. I decided, you know what, Fuck it. I'd buy some flowers and pick up that bisque he likes so much as take out and go home and surprise him for lunch. Make him get out of those nasty workout shorts and just try to reach him. And that's when I found them..." I trailed off, unsure if I could finish.
"Found THEM, son?" Luke asked.
"I walked in and Butch was in a red jock strap, his Cardinal coach's cap, and high red socks. He was fucking a small, blonde twink in the same outfit on top of our dining room table. The little boy (who I later learned was a 19 year old undergrad and definitely NOT a baseball player, thank God) was screaming for Coach to fuck him harder. To pop his little boy spot!' You get the picture. Apparently, he'd met the kid on Grindr and had been fucking him for weeks on days I was at the office. And he wasn't the only one. There were other boys' he'd popped as he happily told me later."
"Jesus!" Brock exclaimed, "what did you do, Son?"
"I threw the flowers and the bisque out the front door of the condo," I began, "And honestly, Dads, I channeled you in full Daddy mode. I took a deep breath. I was so angry - no, I was just so, so hurt that I wanted to kill him! I wanted to hit that kid. But I just quietly told the kid to get dressed and get the fuck out of my house, which he did running. Then I told Butch to do the same. He laughed at me. He was like, What? I live here.' And I said, not any more. Start packing.' Then he started with the crying shit. He was sorry. It was a mistake, but he was so lonely and so hurt by MY rejection, blah blah blah. I said, `pack. You've got 24 hours. We've shared everything all along, but the condo is in my name. My name is on the mortgage. By tomorrow afternoon, I want you and your things out of my house. I'll be gone because I'm going to see our attorney (Scotty) and I'll file for legal separation. But I'm done.' Then I walked into the guest room and shut the door. I could hear him crying and packing in the master bedroom, then I could hear him shouting at me, but I didn't unlock the door. And I stayed in there all night and left the next morning. When I got back from the office and then Scotty's office the next afternoon, all of his stuff was gone. I found our wedding picture in the silver frame smashed on the master bathroom floor. Other than that, there wasn't a trace of him in the house. Then I crawled in the walk-in shower and cried for the next two days. Then I called you guys and said I was coming home."
By this time, I was wrapped in the arms of my Dads, crying, and I could feel Dad's tears falling on my face as he held me, but when I looked at Doc he was stoic. He held me tight, but he wasn't crying. He just stared into my eyes hard like he could see right through me.
Then he held my face and looked at me and said, "I'm so, so sorry you were hurt, Champ. You deserve one thousand times better than any of that, but I am so very proud of the man you are. I'm so very proud of the way you stood up for yourself and fought for your marriage and the man you thought would love you forever. Who should have loved you forever. I love you more than I can say right now." And then he leaned into me and kissed me, hard, on the lips. Harder than he'd kissed me since we first met when I was just 22 years old. I couldn't help it. My mouth just opened to his and I could feel his tongue on mine. And, in that moment, I didn't care if Dad was upset, or if it was wrong, I just melted into Doc. Into the man who more than 12 years ago was my first. The man who I gave my virgin hole to. The man who first loved me unconditionally, and then shared with me the man who loved him too. And I felt my cock lurch in my shorts.
Brock:
My cock was rock hard in my shorts as I held Luke from behind and watched him French kiss our boy, our man now, next to him. I didn't take time to self-examine what my lover was up to, if he had strategically decided to fuck the hurt out of our boy, or show him what a worthy man he really was, although if I could've read his mind, I'm sure that was what he was thinking. No, I was jacked on tequila and pheromones and I moved around them both, hugging my boy from behind, sucking on his neck and the side of his face, and reaching into his bulging workout shorts for his cock. My boy was still hung! Not quite as long as Luke's 8 inches or my uncut 9, but he was 7.5 inches thick and fucking hot, smoldering to my touch. He arched his back as I extracted his cock, and moaned into Luke's mouth, reaching across to pull out Doc's hardening cock as well.
"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, pulling back from us both, "Dads, are you sure?"
"Put your mouth back on your Doc's, son, and lose those shorts!" I commanded as I stepped out of mine and pulled my t-shirt over my head. I pulled Jason up off the stool as he struggled to pull down his gym shorts and tight boxers over his bulging cock, and I unsuccessfully tried to lift him up over my shoulder. Luke began to laugh as he pulled his own shirt over his head.
"I don't think your Dad can throw you over his shoulder anymore, son!" and dropping his shorts in the kitchen, he started back toward our bedroom and our king-sized bed. "Last one back here is the bottom in our boy-sandwich," he yelled over his shoulder!
By the time I galloped up the hall behind the two of them, Luke was prone in the middle of our bed, legs spread while Jason attempted to swallow his monster meat to the root, Licking, slurping, and sucking down on the shaft that was now harder than I'd seen it recently. I smiled at the scene before me, jerked my foreskin across my aching head a few times trying to decide which end to attack first, but there was never any real doubt. My boy was on all fours, face buried in my husband's crotch with his manhole on full display! I gasped at the stunning beauty of his hardened man-ass, the muscle rippling as he bobbed on Luke's cock, its blonde fur covering shimmering in the lengthening light of the golden hour. I dove in, slamming my nose, face, and tongue into his sweet, delicious crack. I inhaled his man-scent, the musk that identified my boy more than anyone, and licked the pink hole, smacking his ass cheeks every now and then, and trying to insert my tongue into his tight pucker. He moaned and pushed back into my clean-shaven face and I knew he was loving it as much as me. Luke thrashed on the bed, luxuriating in the mouth of our boy, moaning on his cock as he deepthroated him.
Jason pulled off Doc's cock with a pop, and groaned. "Dad, that feels great, but go easy. I haven't been fucked in almost a year."
"No worries, Son. We've got all the time in the world," I responded, thinking to myself, what kind of low-life piece of shit would choose a twink over this fine man-ass of my boy's? "Let's shift so that we can all suck some cock for a while."
Reaching up, I spun his legs to the left, and placed my cock right above his chin, then I leaned forward and began to suck on Luke's dripping member and hairy, goose-egg balls while driving half of my hard shaft into Jason's hungry mouth. Luke rubbed my shaved head for luck and then dove to his left, taking our boy's dripping cock into his own mouth, and suddenly the only sounds you could hear for the next 15 or 20 minutes were moans, groans, and the occasional thwack as one of us came up for air in our loud and boisterous daisy chain. Jay pushed his dad off his cock and said, "Hold on, Doc. I'm getting too close."
"You've got more than one load in you, don'tcha son?" Luke chided. But I used this time to crab walk up the bed onto the pillows behind Luke. I reached to the left bedside table (mine) grabbed the lube, and tossed it to Jason. Throwing my long, hairy legs up, I looked our boy in the eye and said, "It's time you really came home, Son. Put that thick cock into your Dad's hairy hole!"
I didn't have to tell him twice, though he looked longingly at both of us side by side near the headboard and whistled slowly. "How the fuck did I get so lucky to land into this family?" Jason said dreamily, then he fell face first into my ass crack and licked and sucked my manhole as hard and wetly as I'd done his before. Doc moved behind him and began to rim that beautiful manhole and started to work a finger or two at a time into the tight pucker. Jason looked over his shoulder at his Dad and said, "I'm going in, Doc."
Luke smiled at our boy, his face dripping with Jason's hole juice and his own spit and said, "Fuck that hole hard, son." He lubed up, and then he moved that fat 7.5 incher right to my hole. I spread my hairy thighs wider and smiled up into that handsome, chiseled face of our son. "I can't go slow, Dad," he cautioned as he drove it home in one quick thrust. We were balls to balls and I grunted. Holy fuck! My boy was thick but so damned good.
"Fuck me, boy!" I growled into his ear as he fell into my chest planting both of his muscled arms on either side of me. I reached around his neck, straining my hairy biceps to hold on as this muscle man began to plow my hole.
"Shit, Doc. Fuck, open up my hole," Jason murmured as Luke worked lubed fingers into his tight ass. "Go ahead and fuck me, Doc. I can take it," He added.
I looked over the blonde head of our beautiful man and watched Luke's eyes on mine as he slowly sank all 8 inches of his cut meat into our boy's hole.
"Fuck! Fuck, it's tight, son," Luke growled over both of us, "but so damned good." He set the rhythm then. I could feel Jason's thrust in me slow to match the rhythm of his dad, feeling the weight of both of these men I loved so much moving in concert about me and in me. We were a sweaty symphony of lust and desire and it felt so damned good that I wanted it to last foever. It must have been the tequila, or the emotion of the moment because I had barely felt the build-up before I was pressing my ass back into Jason's cock, and yelling, "Shit boys, I'm cumming!"
And I did. Hands free! Like a fucking 20-year-old virgin! I shot rope after rope all over my boy's mostly smooth, chiseled chest and my hairy one. He leaned down to kiss me, hard, then started lapping up the cum off my hard pecs and feeding me with kisses. Occasionally, a hair got transferred into our tongue swap but I didn't care. I sucked on his tongue and felt him driving harder into me. I broke our kiss, knew he had to be close, and whispered, "Cum for me, Champ. Breed your old man's hole," and this sent him over the edge. He pounded a good four or five hard shots deep into my pussy. Like his cock, his cum felt burning hot as it shot into my rectum, filling me. The contraction of his orgasm reached his anus, and must've squeezed onto Doc's embedded cock and soon I heard my lover groaning the growl of climax deep into Jay's tight, fur-covered hole. The both fell hard on top of me. Sweat and cum dripping off of all three of us until finally I groaned, "Okay you fuckers. I can handle one 200 pounder on me, but not both." I pushed up and Luke rolled to my right and Jason to my left. We hugged each other and panted back onto the pillows.
"Boy sandwich," my boy's deep baritone growled, satisfied.
"Fucking boy sandwich," Luke's bass agreed. "Best ever."
"Damn," I growled in unison and like the surprise of my orgasm, I surprised myself again by getting choked up. "I love you, men. More than either of you can imagine." Luke raised up and kissed me and looked over at Jason.
Jason smiled back at both of us and said, "Thanks Dads. I really, really fucking needed that." Then I heard a loud rumble.
"Did you just fart?" I bounced him with my forearm. "In our bed?" It growled again.
"No," he answered. "I think that was my stomach. I'm starving!"
Luke bounced off the bed. "Grab some wash clothes and wipe your man parts. I'll grill up the steak and we can eat."
The three of us stood, naked, around the center island, stuffing ourselves with fajitas, drinking the ice cold Coronas and laughing like we had not in a very long time. When we'd had our fill and moved everything into the sink or counter, Luke said, "Just leave everything. I can clean it up later. Why don't we move back to the bedroom for another round?" He cupped my ass as he said this and smiled at me.
Jason laughed and said, "I'd love that Dads. But this time, the boy would like to top Doc while his Dad fucks him in the boy sandwich."
"Deal," I said, swatting him on the ass and heading back to our bedroom.
(Stay tuned for Jason's First Workout, Chapter VII -- A Fresh Start, coming soon.)