but, dad…I’m all sweaty…and so are you…
It’s all right, son…c’mere and give her daddy a hug…
I wasn’t opposed to bottoming. In fact, I’d been thinking about it more and more lately. My boy Justin’s growing up to be a fine hunk with a nice hard tool that matches his dad’s in shape and size. There have been times when I’ve been traveling for business and I’ll strip down in my hotel room and start a nice, slow JO session thinking about my son rimming me, fingering me, then at last taking his turn on top, learning what I experienced week in and week out inside his tight teen jock hole.
So, no, I was getting more and more into the idea. And the more he pestered me, asking if he’d ever be able to fuck me, the more I considered just caving in. But Justin had to earn it, and I finally told him as much one night.
Naked in my arms, his cock surged against my abs. “Earn it?” he sighed. “How Dad?”
I thought a second. “You want my ass, you gotta play by my rules, got it?”
He leaned up, excited as puppy now. I had a feeling he’d agree to anything, any condition I lay down. “You got it, Dad, just name it.” His prick looked like it could shoot any second now, and to tease him I gripped it in my hand and started stroking.
“Basketball. One-on-one, you and me, 21 points, 2 out of 3.” It was starting to sink in to him, and his excitement turned into a look of frustrated determination.
“You mean?” he started.
“Yep. Beat your old man if you want a turn on top.” See, basketball was my game. I’d played in high school and college. Star forward. Even if I was twice that age now, I was still in shape and pretty good at the game. And while Justin was quite the jock in his own right, baseball was his game, where he spent his effort working on power hitting rather than speed or agility.
“OK,” he said gamely. “You’re on Dad.”
I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about offering my hole any time soon, and I didn’t. Justin and I played each Sunday and each Sunday I beat him. Squarely. But the kid was determined, I got to give him that. Put his all into the game, practiced hoops every day after school, even joined the basketball team.
One day, after a fairly close game, I could detect a new swagger in my boy. “Pretty close that time. You better watch out, Dad,” he taunted. “Before long I’ll be claiming my prize.”
I shoved the ball into his arms and pulled down my shorts. Already my cock was hardening in the cool spring breeze. “Maybe. In the meantime, why don’t you come suck Daddy off?”
He grumbled a curse word, but dribbled the ball to the side and crouched down on the carport in front of me.
Two weeks ago was too close for comfort. I lost the first game and won the second in a squeaker, 21-19. I was lagging in the third, till Justin started teasing me. “Damn, Dad, looks like you want my dick pounding you tonight.” That did it. I rallied and smoked his tired, exhausted ass that last game.
I felt on fire, and the sex was even hotter that night.
Today was another match up. “Ready Sport?” I called as I came downstairs changed into my sweatshirt and shorts. Justin was playing a video game but paused it. A look in his eye that said he was going to try again, try to beat his ex-basketball player of a father.
I did pretty well the first game, handily beating my son. It was the second when things started to turn around. Justin ran circles around my defenses and seemingly every shot was perfect, landing right in the hoop. He whooped me, 21-11.
“Best 2 out of 3,” he reminded me. No boast this time, no cockiness, just pure focus. Game focus. I’d seen it on the courts when I played in college.
Worst part was, my son had been running me around the court, slowly but surely wearing me down. He may not have had the natural agility, but he’d been conditioning himself. And he was 24 years younger than me. He had 15 points to my 4 when I found myself panting.
I threw for a two-pointer but was no longer steady, out of breath. The ball missed by a mile.
I looked over and saw his expression. That’s when he knew. Knew he had licked me. He smiled, his white teeth gleaming, as he picked up the ball and started dribbling. Not losing the focus, he charged past me. I did my best to anticipate his move, but he sailed by and laid up the shot. Perfect. 16 to 4. Fuck.
My turn, and Justin was there at my every step. Not fouling, but playing very physical defense. Not afraid. I tried to get out of his block but as I stooped down to step I lost control of the ball which went rolling across the carport.
Now Justin took his time. Maybe to give me a breather, but I don’t think that was it. I think he wanted to relish this. Relish this milestone. He dribbled and fixed his gaze on me. It was like he fucking me with his eyes, appraising his 40-something father’s sweaty body. I looked down and could see that my son had a full-on boner in his shorts, poking up as walked side to side. I don’t know how he played with an erection, but it didn’t hurt his game. Another charge, another shot, and soon the score was 17-4.
I couldn’t lose without a fight. I refocused, got my old mojo back and shot from the 2-point circle. Not my best shot, but the ball hit the rim and circled in.
“Nice one, Dad,” Justin said, not taunting me anymore but almost as an equal, you know? Still, not to be outdone, he stood back from behind the far line and sailed his own two-pointer in.
I got one more shot in that game, but it was a lost cause. The last few points, Justin’s boner throbbed even harder and by now mine was too. I could hear him chant almost in a low whisper as I played the most physical defense I could muster. “I can’t fuckin’ believe this is gonna happen,” he’d say. “I’m gonna fuck my dad.”
I thought he’d have a big conceited smile on his face as he got that last point. Instead, he walked up to me with a fierce determination and a look of stone-cold lust on his face. “Inside,” he growled. “Now.”
We both made our way quickly to my bedroom, where we tore off our sweaty clothes.
I stood there erect but my cock was not quite as angry or horned up as my son’s. “Justin,” I started maybe we shower up….”
He pounced on me knocking me back to the best as his mouth met me in the hottest kiss we’d shared. This was definitely a new side of Justin I’d never seen before. The deprivation had turned him into a bona fide top, all right. As we made out on the bed, our sweaty bodies rubbing against one another, my son thrust his erection against my midsection, making no bones about what he wanted.
“Gotta fuck you Dad,” he moaned. “Can’t fucking wait any more.”
With that he hooked his hands under my thighs and pulled them up. I was going to tell him to get some lube, but already his was positioning his dick at my sphincter and pressing inward. I guess there was enough sweat to lube a gangbang, cause Justin’s hard prick popped inside and filled me.
Instinctively, my legs wrapped around him, letting him know I was good to go. He smiled and said “fuck yes,” and pulled back his hips and pushed forward again. “I’m fucking you dad,” he said, as much to himself as to me.
I knew he wouldn’t last long and he didn’t. About a minute of eager thrusts and my boy was getting his orgasm buried deep inside me. My own rocket went off, spraying my chest with a fresh coating of dad seed. Justin watched transfixed then leaned down to kiss me again.
“Worth the wait?” I asked, stroking his neck as we caught our breaths.
“Like you wouldn’t believe. That was awesome, Dad.”