Just Like My Dad

JUST LIKE MY DAD PART 1 by Robert Furlong robert.furlong@rocketmail.com robertfurlong.tumblr.com

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I met my friend Ivan because I bought my car from him.

I liked him because he was so unlike the younger, cockier salesmen I'd encountered in all the other dealerships. I'd been trawling showrooms most of the weekend and had long since grown bored of being pestered by smarmy wide-boys in flashy tailored suits reeking of the latest after-shave.

From the outset, Ivan seemed far more authentic and I got the feeling there was a good deal more to him than he would ordinarily like to reveal. His hair was thinning on top and he was getting a bit chubby around his middle, and once we started chatting I figured he was maybe just a couple of years younger than me. I found I immediately warmed to him – maybe it was his self-deprecating humour or maybe his endearing air of amicable weariness – so, instead of giving him the brush-off when he came over to ask me if he could help me pick a car, we walked the forecourt together, chatting affably and getting to know each other.

He told me which cars he thought were the best deals and which he wouldn't touch with a barge-pole. When I found one that I thought might suit me, he advised me which extras were worth the money and which he thought were just gimmicks.

I asked him how long he'd worked selling cars and he threw me a tired smile. "Man and boy, mate, just like my dad. Going on for... what'll it be now... just over twenty years."

So that put him in his late thirties, making my guess pretty close.

"You've sold one or two cars, then," I smiled.

He smirked back at me. "Let's just say enough to be able to cut through all the bullshit."

We went into his office and I sat down behind his desk on which was perched a picture of him with his arm around an attractive woman, the two of them holidaying on some far-flung beach. Before we sorted out the paperwork, he offered me a cup of tea and as he bent over to get the box of teabags out of the cupboard, I noticed he had a the most breath-taking arse amply filling the seat of his fawn-coloured trousers. It was just the sort of big, blokeish backside I love to get my face stuck into and the sort of butt which, once I'd lubed it up with my spit, I would greatly enjoy watching quiver and ripple as my hips slapped fast and hard against it.

I guess he saw the way I was looking at his rump and licking my lips because when the time came for the car to be delivered to the showroom, Ivan offered to drive it over to my house after he'd finished work. I'd asked him how he'd get home and he'd said, "You can give me a lift back to the dealership if that's okay. I'll pick up my car and drive back from here."

I'd nodded and he'd added, with a delightfully cheeky smirk, "That is, after we've finished doing everything we need to do at your place..."

"Okay," I'd grinned and he'd beamed back at me.

We both knew the score and it was obvious what he intended.

When the day came and he'd dropped off the car, I invited him in and offered him a beer. After a bit of chit-chat about the new car, I asked him if he'd like to take a look upstairs.

He said, "Sure, that'd be great," and followed me up to my bedroom.

We kept talking about the car and I thought I'd get things started by casually undoing my tie. Ivan followed my lead and took off his, and then we both started unbuttoning our shirts. Neither of us made any reference to why we were undressing in front of each other, but just talked about the expected fuel economy and how often, with the miles I drive, I'd be likely to have to fill the tank up.

"You won't see anything like the efficiency quoted in the handbook," he said, sitting down on my bed to pull off his shoes and socks.

"If I can get close to fifty I'd be quite happy," I told him, doing the same alongside him.

He kept talking about the variation I could expect with different driving conditions, standing back up to unclip his belt and unzip his fly. We really were going to do this: we were about to get naked and have sex together on my bed.

He pulled his trousers down revealing an old-fashioned pair of blue Y-fronts, probably the sort of godawful underwear his wife bought for him in packs of five. His cock and balls made a promising bulge in the front of them and I pulled down my trousers so he could see that mine was equally prominent in my DKNY boxer-briefs.

"You'll find it struggles to accelerate away from uphill junctions at first," he said chattily, "but once the engine has been properly run-in, that'll sort itself out."

He took his shirt off, revealing a thin growth of hair across his chest and below it a distinctly flabby beer-gut.

"You expect little teething problems for the first five-hundred miles or so," I replied, removing my shirt to show him that, while not exactly being a contender for Mr Universe, I was in considerably better shape than he was.

"I'd give it a thousand," he said, pulling down his underpants. His cock was still floppy but nicely thick and chunky with a pale pink helmet poking out from his gaping foreskin. It hung solidly over his plump hairy nuts, giving the impression of just beginning to get aroused at the prospect of having intercourse with another male.

I pulled my boxers down so he could see that I was running a semi. He smiled at its broad girth and long, developing shaft and I was pleased that he wasn't intimated by my endowment like some men who identify as predominantly straight.

Having seen what I had to offer he got on the bed on all fours, sticking that wonderful big, meaty butt out at me with his hairy nuts hanging down between his legs.

I wondered we were going to continue chatting nonchalantly about the car, even as I mounted him, grabbed him by the hips and proceeded to anally copulate with him. Talk about the air-con and how often the oil would need changing as I squatted behind him, rogering his big flabby arse with my bollocks slapping noisily against the backs of his legs.

But instead Ivan brought the car-talk to an end by saying, "I assume you have condoms stashed away somewhere...?"

"Of course," I chuckled, "but I was rather hoping I could rim you first."

He laughed back, peering across at me over his shoulder. "I thought you'd want to eat me out. I saw the way you were licking your lips when I was bending over behind my desk!"

"It looks a good deal better without your trousers on," I told him. It did look incredible with him bending over like this. The cheeks were so deliciously round and pudgy, and the crack was filled to overflowing with an inviting tangle of thick, wiry hair.

"My missus doesn't share your enthusiasm," he said. "That's why I take the occasional... er... opportunity like this. I like it to get a bit of attention every once in a while!"

I chuckled and got on the bed behind him. My cock was now almost fully engorged from the knowledge that this exquisite rump really was going to mine for the taking.

I gently caressed both of his round, succulent buttocks and then ran my fingers up and down his moist, wiry crack. The smell of his butt hair, ripe and pungent, made my cock head swell up like a big, shiny plum and I had to swallow a couple of times my mouth was watering so much.

"So you like getting your butt fucked?" I asked, working my fingers more deeply into his humid trench, rubbing them past the hot, sticky pucker of his bloated entrance.

"Always ever have done," he replied. "I have a good sex life with my wife – very enjoyable, actually – but I've always liked getting on all fours like this and taking a nice big dick up my arse!"

"Well, I'll be happy to oblige, Ivan," I chuckled, working a couple of fingers into the slimy grip of his well-used hole. "Your bum is simply stunning!"

"Yeah, it's funny how fellas always like my big hairy arse," he grinned back at me over his shoulder, "but my wife won't go anywhere near it!"

"She doesn't know what she's missing," I smiled back, sliding my fingers in and out of his cock-stretched opening and revelling in the delicious stink that my exertions were producing. "Now you know my address, feel free to drop by whenever it feels neglected!"

"I'll take you up on that, Rob," he laughed.

I leaned forwards and kissed his big chubby buttocks: first the left and then across to the right. They smelt enticing – a little sweaty from the moisture that had gathered in the back of his Y-fronts during his day at the dealership, but more strongly of that exquisite earthy pungence that his gaping hole was kicking out as I gently fingered it.

"I'd like to fuck you as well," he said, pushing his hefty butt against my hand. "I'd like us to both have our turn if you'd be up for that."

"Oh, absolutely, Ivan!" I told him. "I love taking turns – it's the best part of doing it with another guy!"

I withdrew my fingers from his slippery chute and applied instead my mouth to his sumptuously furry butt-crack. I reached my tongue out to lick at his puffy anal ring, relishing the thick acrid taste that oozed out from inside. I lapped at it, flicking my tongue against his wide opening, while I sniffed hungrily at the strong heady fug that had spent the day lurking in the deep bristling crack underneath the back of his trousers.

"Ah yeah," he called out, "lick my big fat arse!"

He grabbed my head and ground my face roughly into his rear, commanding, "Come on, eat me out! Shove your tongue right up my arsehole!"

I murmured appreciatively and drove my tongue into his clammy tunnel, coaxing out the strongest of his odours and reaching down to squeeze my cock as I savoured his richest, most vulgar taste.

How could Ivan's wife ignore such a scrumptious backside, bulging enticingly inside the well-filled seat of her big husband's straining underwear? How could she resist plunging her face between his hefty cheeks, to impatiently inhale the wonderfully whiffy thicket bristling inside and to feast so fervently on her man's filthiest flavours?

Fearing I was going to climax, I quickly pulled away and, once I'd snapped on a condom and smeared a dollop of lube down my shaft, shoved my knees between his so I work my throbbing erection up the gaping hole I'd just licked out. Once I'd mounted him, I grabbed onto his hips and started fucking him in earnest, developing a rapid, thumping rhythm against his wobbly buttocks and making long, arching sweeps with the full length of my cock.

"Oh yeah!" he gasped. "Come on, plough me Rob!"

I laughed and panted, "You sure this is okay? I'm not being too rough, am I?"

"No way mate!" he grinned up at me over his shoulder. "Come on, bum me as hard as you like! Let me know how much you want it!"

I moved my hands up to cling onto his shoulders and really went for it with him, slapping my hips fast and hard against his hefty buttocks and making my full, heavy nuts whack painfully against his own big bollocks swinging between his legs.

He looked over at the two of us in my wardrobe mirror and grunted, "Bloody hell, Rob – look at the two of us! We look as hot as fuck!"

I looked over at us too, and we grinned at each other, enjoying the sight of us boisterously butt-fucking in the classic gay position. He was right – we looked incredible, with him on all fours pushing his arse back against me and me right behind him drilling my cock in and out of his furry crack and holding tightly onto his hips. We were like two big sweaty blokes acting out a lewd act we'd stumbled across on the internet, both beaming at each other at how naughty we were being to be doing it up the bum when we both had women in our lives.

"Jesus, mate," he called out, "look at my big hairy arse! Look at how massive your knob is banging in and out of it!"

"Do you like it?" I gasped. "Do you like seeing yourself being buggered?"

"I fucking love it!" he laughed back at me through the wardrobe mirror. "I love seeing a big, thick cock like yours shagging me up the arse!"

His belly hung down low and his huge wobbly buttocks quivered like jelly every time my hips slammed into them, but if anything that added to the eroticism of how we looked. We were having sex together as two big men, enjoying each other's maleness and flabbiness and hairiness. I could see from how eager he was to be receiving me that Ivan felt as I did: far from being a mere substitute for the vaginal intercourse we both also enjoyed, this deliciously homosexual and alluringly anal version was something we both esteemed on its own illicit terms.

"Do you want me to wank you off?!" I called down to him, although I would struggle to do so with his big gut in the way.

"No," he panted back. "I might bust my nut before I've had my turn on you!"

"That's okay," I gasped, "I don't mind if you cum." I loved it when a guy climaxed with my cock deep up inside him. It was exquisite to have his rectal muscles spasming around my pumping organ, and I loved the rush of virility I felt by causing a fellow male to reach a shuddering orgasm from having my large erection pounding at his bum.

"No, I want my turn," he called out. "It's really important to me that we do it both ways!"

"Fair enough," I smirked, and then started down my home straight. I leaned over him so that my chest was rubbing against his back and hooked my arms underneath his armpits to cling onto him by his shoulders. Then, holding his bulky body firmly in place underneath me, I smacked my hips like an applause against his soft, plump behind.

"Ah yeah!" he exclaimed. "Go for it, Rob! Knob my arse really hard and nut off up it!"

I looked across at us in the mirror again, loving the sight of me hugging him so close and the way my arse was banging up and down on top of his. I wondered what his wife would think if she could see him like this with a man heaving away on top of him and a cock as big as mine slamming in and out of his quivering butt-cheeks. She would probably be shocked at how much he was enjoying the feel of it; being so roughly impaled through a part of his body whose only significance, as far as she was concerned, was the stink it quite often left behind in the bathroom.

A stink it was kicking out most prolifically now.

He saw me through the mirror sniffing at the strong smell from his bum and asked hesitantly, "Do you like it?"

I smiled back at him and managed to grunt, even as I laboured for breath, "I love it, Ivan! It's the smell of our butt-fucking!"

He grinned broadly and, thrusting his butt up in time to meet the relentless hammering of my tireless cock, called out, "Well churn it even harder, mate! Let's make the whole house stink of your cock banging away at my big hairy arse!"

I climaxed abruptly and rode the crest of my orgasm panting and whimpering into the back of his neck. I kept bucking my hips, planting my seed deep up inside his bowels, as he called out in encouragement, "Ah yeah, give me all your spunk, Rob! Empty your massive bollocks right up my shitter, mate!"

After I'd withdrawn from him and hidden the well-filled and grimly-streaked condom away in some tissue, Ivan was eager to have his turn on me.

A second condom was torn open and unfurled down his large, excited cock even before I'd finished wiping off my dribbling semen. Once I'd lubed myself up, he got me to crouch in front of him, facing away and with my bum pushing out so he could similarly crouch behind me and work his organ up inside me.

He held me round the chest with his big hairy arms and then firmly eased his fattened cock head through my slippery sphincter. As my butt muscles relaxed, stretching open to take him, and his thick shaft pushed its way effortlessly up into my bowels, he laughed, "Mind, you've had a few blokes up here, haven't you, mate?"

"One or two," I chuckled.

"I knew you'd be up for having your arse fucked when I first saw you on the forecourt," he told me as his cock slid all the way up me and I felt his wiry pubic bush scratch against my cheeks.

"Really?" I asked, enjoying the feel of having a good-sized manhood filling up my rapacious rectum. "How could you tell?"

"You had a certain confidence about you," Ivan replied. "Something that told me you played it both ways."

I had to laugh at that. "Me? Confident? I'm probably one of the least confident people I know!"

"A sexual confidence," he explained. "You gave the impression of being a guy at ease with his own sexuality – comfortable enough to get it on with whoever you find attractive, regardless of gender."

I nodded as he started a slow rhythm in and out of me. "A few years ago I would never have thought that possible, but... yeah... maybe you're right. Maybe I have become sexually confident."

"Confident enough to admit you like the smell of bum sex," he reminded me, quickening his speed. My cock, which had started softening post-climax, began to harden again at the sensation of having a well-built brother pumping away just behind it.

"I do like the smell of two men having anal," I smiled. "It's so incredibly hot!"

He chuckled into my back, making harder thrusts and using more of the length of his shaft. "It's unlike anything you get with a woman," he gasped. "The stink you get when it's two fellas doing it... it's totally fucking awesome!"

I grinned over at him through the mirror, loving the sight of us squatting upright together with his hips growing faster against my squashy buttocks. I could smell quite distinctly the odour of his cock sliding in and out of my hot, moist rump. It was much more intense than usual and far more rank and raunchy than his had been.

"Do you like the stink now?" I asked.

He smirked back at me with his forehead growing sweaty and his cheeks bright red. "It's a lot rougher than I thought it would be, Rob! For a well turned-out fella like you, you sure kick out a hell of a butt-whiff!"

"But do you like it?" I persisted.

"Of course I do," he grinned. "I love it, mate!"

He started butt-fucking me quickly, moving his arms down around my belly so he could really work his hips against my backside. We grinned over at each other through my wardrobe mirror, admiring the sight of our big, stocky bodies pressed so close together and loving the way we were joined together by his thick, meaty cock noisily hammer-drilling at my round, chubby buttocks.

"This is why I like to do it both ways," he told me, his breath hot against the back of my shoulder. "So we can smell each other's stink!"

He pushed me down onto the bed so that I was on all fours as he had been. Then he grabbed me the shoulders and really went to town against my bum. He fucked me as hard and as fast as he was able to, panting and heaving as he revelled in his occasional treat of male-on-male buggery.

I looked back at him over my shoulder and grinned at his wet, flushed face. "Ah yeah! Bang my arse, mate!" I gasped up to him, feeling my aching erection pulsing against my stomach and loving the sensation of being so roughly buggered by such a big, strident man.

He inhaled the crude odour our homosexual coupling was so fiercely giving off and muttered, "Oh God, this is as horny as fuck! We're like a couple of fucking pigs, wallowing in it!"

I called out to him, knowing how much he'd like it, "Come on, Ivan, fuck my skanky arse! Do it rougher, mate – screw the stink out of me! Really hard and fast, right up my dirty shit-hole!"

He started cumming heavily, grinding his hips against my buttocks. I could feel the end of the condom inflating with his semen up inside my bum and the heat it was giving off as it pumped out of him. I grabbed my cock and started wanking myself quickly, loving the sensation of having such an expressive man climaxing inside me, and before his orgasm had fully subsided, I produced a second large deposit of my oft-spent seed in a long sticky spray right across the duvet.

As he fell onto my back and recovered his breath against the valley between my shoulder blades, the first thing he said was, "Seriously mate, we have got to do this again!"

I laughed my agreement and said, "Any time you like, Ivan!"

"I've never done it with a fella who was as into the smells of two blokes butt-fucking as I am."

"I think you'll find," I told him, "that sex smells are a really important part of what I enjoy."

"And the stink from your arse, Rob," he went on, easing his drooping manhood out of me with a slurpy wet fart. "It was fucking intense!"

I chuckled and pulled away from him, then passed him some tissues for the condom and his cock.

"When I'm doing it with Trisha," he said, "I really miss that strong, distinctive smell you get with another man. With you, though – Christ! – I was never in any doubt that it was another fella's big brown hole I had my cock shafting in and out of!"

I smiled at him, wiping myself down before we could clean up properly. "I'm the same with my girlfriend Debbie. She's got a real thing about odours and that makes our sex pretty sterile. I enjoy it – don't get me wrong – but compared to what we've just done, it really lacks something that's a huge turn-on."

He nodded and asked, "Can I take a shower, if you don't mind? My wife... well... let's say she's got a good nose!"

I told him to help himself to the fresh towels in the cupboard (I didn't mention that these were mainly for the young men my son brings back from uni with him) and that once he was ready I'd drive him back to retrieve his own car from the dealership.

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To be concluded...

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robert.furlong@rocketmail.com robertfurlong.tumblr.com

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