It didn’t matter to Joe. He was going to kiss and love on his father all he wanted and everyone else could get fucking stuffed. He smiled as their fingers came together, liking the way they complimented each other, his slender, feminine fingers contrasting to his fathers thicker, working hands. “Oh,” and he blushed bright and hot under his collar because sure, in the moment he and his father said some frankly disgustingly vulgar things. Truly atrocious. But never before had a night of sex been planned out before hand, and he was stirring in his pants a little already at the thought. He shifted a little and nodded his head enthusiastically, licking his lips. “Oh, yes. I’d like that very, very much,” He’d never been to a rave, or done body shots, but he was looking forward to fucking under the boardwalk greatly. He smiled and watching as Rhys packed up for him, standing with him and wandering out with his hand wrapped in his fingers around his fathers.
Onto the beach they went, his book bag slung over his fathers shoulder. With a stretch of beach on either side of them, devoid of people and the sound sof the ocean their cover, he did as he was bid and stopped, sitting and settling in the sand, his legs stretched out in front of him. He toed his shoes off (those slip on things that the kids were wearing) and he listened carefully before shaking his head. “I know, you gotta do what you gotta do,” and he looked away for a second, learning way too much and way much more about his parents sex life than he ever wanted, despite how firmly lodged he was in it. “I’m normally, you know, realistic about the whole thing, but I don’t know, it got to me,” and he shrugged a little, looking over to his father disrobing as it were. “Can we run away?” he asked softly, tugging his shirt off over his head. “Is that an option?”
"I know you don’t like it. I don’t like doing it." Not really. Rhys laughed, watching as his son looked genuinely horrified about discussing his parents having sex. It was strange how easy it was for Rhys to talk about it. "We’ll have to run away, I figure. Maybe, next year, when you’re a bit older, I’ll divorce your mom. You tell her you’re moving with me, she’ll probably anticipate that. I mean, you’ve been attached to my hip for forever." Since he was a baby. Rhys suddenly wondered when it was exactly Joe started having these thoughts. "When did your crush on me even develop? How long have you looked at me like a lover rather than a father?" He turned away for this conversation. It not feeling like something a boy and his dad should ever talk about. But he needed to know. "Unless you look at me as both.. do you? Am I your dad and your lover? Is that.. do you feel gross when I touch you? If you tell me to stop, Joe, I’ll stop." He wouldn’t like it but he’d respect it.
The ocean was calling to him, inviting him in. The waves licked up at his feet without touching and he felt too distant from the salt and the foam. “Let’s continue this out there. In the water.” It was funny to think that in just a day this entire beach would be a party his wife would be avoiding. The board walk would be littered with hot, writing bodies and he’d have his son underneath. Rhys ran into the spray, waded out until he was waist deep and he laid back, let himself float off and smiled as his body was carried over the waves rather than drowned by them.
Joe was sucking Rhys down like a starved man eating his first meal in months. Pushing his lips down and down on the dick, he was milking his husband again for all he was worth, sucking and slurping and making a damn good mess of them both. He bucked back against the tongue licking little stripes over him, grunting gently. He rolled his hips as the tongue licked into him, making him wet and sloppy well and truly, a licked open mess as he sucked and Joe gasped sharply around the dick between his lips. There was movements of mouth and wetness and suction and he just needed more as he kept sucking Rhys down and into the depths of his throat. “O-ok,” he stuttered with a nod after pulling off with a suck, scrambling to his feet and to the kitchen, grabbing a tray and bowl and twisting the tray in it. In no time, he was back with a tray of ice cubes and his lips were back on Rhys, sucking and swirling over the leaking head of his dick. His hips swayed side to side a little in the others face as his pucker fluttered and winked.
He stroked himself while he waited which felt like only seconds. Ice cubes in reach, he put one in his mouth, enjoyed his blow job and his view, watching Joe’s hole beg silently for him. In time. The cube was melting in his mouth, filing down to a thin sliver and finally, Rhys leaned in and with the ice between his lips, he circled it all around the fluttering pucker, kissing with warm lips, poking with a cold cube and then, with his tongue, he slid the ice inside Joe’s body, smirking as he watched it disappear. “You suck so good down there baby,” he said, “You like daddy’s fat dick in your mouth?” Rhys smirked and let his tongue fall out to the hole, he prodded and watched as water came trickling out, down to his tongue, quenching the thirst he had.
"Oh-!" was all Joe could muster by way of words at this point in time. He was breathing Rhys in, sharing his breath, listening to him breath, feeling it crash over himself and soak into his skin. It might have been disjointed, but it felt fucking amazing. Joe’s dick twitched and leaked with every rub over his prostate, slicking up both their bellies in no time with his normal over the top leaking going in overdrive. Just like a turned on girl. Deep and hard and wide he was split open and he keened, clenching at the fat muscle, gasping and half sobbing at every little movement and shift and change. He nearly howled when his knees were pushed further back, fat inches sinking in deep, opening him wide deeper, bottoming out and he thrashed a little, grabbing at Rhys’ hip and shoulder, squeezing just to ground himself. It was slick, the slide in and out of his ruined little hole, hot and slick and lewd and wet and so fucking good, his head was swimming. "Oh, my pussy loves you, Daddy," he mewled, working his ass along the fat shaft the best he could. Stomach and hair took over where Rhys’ hand was and he whimpered and rubbed against Rhys, greedily seeking more and more. "Fuck," he gasped, shuddering and tensing, going very, very still to feel the jolting thrusts race up his spine. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfu- Daddy!" he cried out, shooting between them, clenching hard and vice like around his dick, half sobbing through his orgasm as his back arched harshly off the mattress and he twitched in time with his throbs and pumps of cum from him.
The feeling of hot wetness come between them sent him over the edge and he came as well, spilling thick creamy strands of seed inside Joe’s tight little asshole. Rhys rode through them, pushing strands deeper inside, further back. “Fuck,” he panted, pulling out and moving down, tasting Joe’s cum, licking his stomach, into his navel, Rhys licked where the joins of Joe’s legs came and that’s where the heady scent was stored. He keened into in, licking him clean, licking hair clean, moved over to the hole and he licked whatever white strands were sliding out. The bed was wrecked. An hour or so passed with Rhys just licking and cleaning and kissing, watching Joe come back down. And with his hard cock, the one that hadn’t gone down yet, he slid bak into the hole and started tapping away again. Like he never came, like Joseph never came. He returned the pace, fucking inside like it was all he had left to do.
Joe glanced up when he saw movement on the other side of the table and he gave a miserable little sniffle to himself. He blinked and swallowed, shifting in his seat as his father sat and pushed his things out of the way, crumpling fastidiously neat notes and well documented study examples. A made a little sound at the kiss pressed to his mouth, simple, chaste and warm, leaning into it a little. And then his father’s tongue was snaking across his mouth, pushing between his lips and Joe keened very, very softly into it. His tongue came to play with Rhys’, rubbing along it, curling around it and his hand fisted in his shirt as his pants tightened. He was sixteen, kisses made him hard. Kisses in the middle of a restaurant in public with his father, who was so much older than him, well, that made him a little bit harder, the dirty little pervert that he was. He sighed gently at the words muttered close to his mouth and leaned into the fingers brushing through his hair.
He gave a little smile when Rhys began to speak and he felt a warmth spread through his body. So, his father obviously, did still want him. Very much so by the looks of things. He leaned into the soft kiss, returning it gently and blinked slowly at his father before shaking his head. “No, I know,” he said softly, looking down between them for a second, his ears going red and hot with embarrassment. “I was just being stupid-” and he was cut off with another kiss and he basked in the warm smile that followed it. “Right now, I’m pretty happy,” and he was, sitting in this back booth, tucked in with the love of his life, pressing kisses to his plump lips. “Just, let’s do all the things you had planned. Let’s just enjoy our holiday,” and he smiled. Because in his head, Joe would forever remember it as their vacation, just his and his fathers, spending time down at the beach. “You know,” and a coy smile spread across his face before he leaned in and planted his own kiss on his fathers mouth. Tender and coy. “Right now, I’d like to go swimming,” and he smiled at the other man. It was an opportunity for both of them to see the other half naked and wet and glistening. How could he pass that up? “Will you come with?”
Yes they got glares. They got high brows and worried looks of elderly patrons who found two men kissing to be terrible but with such an age difference? That was just blasphemous. Rhys fucking loved it. He settled into his seat next to his son and laced their fingers together. “We’ll swim all day. We’ll play on the beach and tomorrow night, at one of the beach raves, we’ll find you a fake ID and we’ll do body shots and fuck under the board walk because that’s what I wanna do with you.” Rhys tossed some cash on the table to pay for whatever it was Joe sat there and ordered all day. He helped the boy pack up his homework and carried it for him. What kid brings homework on vacation? His kid, that’s who. On the beach, alone for yards and yards, drowned out by the crashing waves and the sounds of seagulls, Rhys finally had his moment alone with his son. “Sit for a second, he said,” and tossed the bag down before sitting in the sand, starting to unlace his shoestrings.
“I know it’s hard for you,” he said, “To see me and your mom together. It’s hard to be with her. I think about you. When I fuck her, I make her roll over. I go anal, just so it feels like you, even a little.” Though it didn’t. Rhys swallowed. “I just want it to be you and me so bad sometimes but, tell me what to do. Okay? I’ll do it. Just tell me what you want me to do, baby.” At the rate they were going, they’d be found out. He wasn’t sure how they’d get away with being together in the hotel room. Take a shower together, maybe. Let Joe feign a stomach ache again. Shoes off, socks off, he was working on his shorts.
Another stripe and another desperate moan. He keened and rocked back into it, pushing himself down onto the tongue, taking more of the warm, slick appendage into himself. More of it was pushed into him and Rhys hummed. Fucking hummed and Joe arched his back, pushing his ass up and moaned again, lashes fluttering as he dripped and dribbled further on the counter top. The vibrations travelled over his sweet spot and he offered a very manly mewl at the feeling, curling his fingers around his dick and a giving a little jerk for a moment, just to relieve some of the pressure. Spread wider again, he was drowning in a sea of sensation as Rhys licked into him, licked him open and wide and deep, so deep. He jerked and twitched into the hand on his dick, gasping sharply before groaning and rocking into it. “Oh fuck,” he breathed as Rhys spoke, his dick leaking over his husbands fingers. “I do, so badly. Fuck, I want to sit on your big, fat dick and feel it split me open, and ride it until I can taste it. But, just, do this for me first?” It was a process, a stepping stone process in his head. It was just something he had to work through. He looked over this shoulder to see his husband stirred back to life and he let out a pitiful, wanton little sound and shimmied off the table. “Lounge,” he ordered, pushing his husband over to it. Stripping him of the rest of his clothes, he pushed the big man until he was laying flat on the couch and simply climbed on top. Sitting over his lovers face, he leaned down and sucked the head of his hard dick into his mouth.
There was some pushing and shoving for them to go into a different room. That was fine. Had Joseph not been the insistent one he’d have been carried there. Pushed down onto the sofa, Rhys spread his legs a little and then there was an ass in his face. There was a hole right at his lips and he leaned forward to kiss when he felt the hot, wet mouth wrap around his cock. “Ohhhhh shit,” he said. “Oh fuck, fuck-” and the moment he got his bearings, that was the moment he took and leaned forward, licking hot little stripes over the man’s hole, into his hole, splitting him open with his tongue and he keened into it, into the taste, the heat, the wetness that was inside. Rhys sucked on the hole, tasting the spit that was inside of him, sloshing around as they moved and it was nasty and gross and he fucking needed more. “Go get an ice cube. Now,” he demanded. “If I can’t fuck you, I’m gonna’ fucking play with you.”
Finally. Finally, finally, finally. Rhys was fat and big and drooling inside of him, splitting his little hole around his thick girth and it felt so good and so right. He gasped, heels digging into the bed and he twitched as the leaky head rubbed over his sweet spot, pleasure burning on his nerves and fizzling down his spine, feeling it in fingers and in his vision and in his toes, twitching into the hand wrapped around his length. But word mine reverberated around his head and he breathed ‘yours' in reply, vision swimming. He keened feeling the drag against his rim, feeling the pressure against his sweet spot and the slide over his walls. He stuttered a moan and a sigh, clenching his hole as Rhys told him how pretty he was where he fucked into him. “I kept it pretty for you,” he gulped, keening softly at the heavy, rhythmic slap of his lovers balls against his skin a grounding reminder to his lust addled brain. “Daddy, you feel so good,”
"You have such a tight pussy," he said, gasping for air against Joe’s face, breathing hot, heavy breath into his ear and his hips kept working, kept bouncing and fucking and tapping away at the hole. Fast, unrhythmic gyrations that made no sense unless you were feeling what he was. He was hitting the prostate, then sank in deep and slow and gave quick rubs of his fat dick against other muscles inside. It was like a secret coding system for unlocking an orgasm, he just had to do it enough times. Joe’s legs were pushed up further, knees at his throat as Rhys fucked into him harder and deeper, letting hot, fat inches get swallowed up by his clenching muscles. Every clench, every squeeze milked him for his precum and he dribbled and dripped and drooled into the hole. It was filthy. It was delicious. "Baby, shit. Shit, daddy loves that tight pussy," he said again, breathing heavier. His stomach trapped Joe’s dick between them. Hair and muscle rolling over the other’s cock, touching and giving attention as he slid and rolled and moved. "Cum for me baby. Cum all over daddy."
Joe gasped and whined softly as his husband’s finger worked his prostate and he wiggled and shuddered, leaking and clenching around the finger. Little sparks jolted up his spine as Rhys worked his balls, keening and groaning into the wet heat enveloping them. “Oh, fuck, yes Daddy, I do,” he sighed softly, nodding his head and looking down at Rhys. “I love when you fuck my cunt as well, I missed it, so bad -ah!” he jolted as two fingers pushed against his prostate and as his hot tongue into him. “Fuck, fuck,” he breathed and then Rhys was pulling away. Leaving him and his fluttering, eager, desperate pucker and his leaking dick all to himself for all of five seconds. His legs splayed wider and he whined softly as his husbands leaking head tapped, tacky and sticky over his balls and rested against his opening. “Yes,” he breathed with a nod, a small cry leaving his lips as Rhys’ head popped into him for the first time in over a month. The wait had been worth it. “Mine,” he sighed possessively, fingers reaching up and wrapping around the others shoulders, giving himself a little leverage as Rhys slid all the way home. He was so big. Fat, long, hard, throbbing and hot in his ass and Joe was a mess already. He keened on the drag out and clenched around his dick, pushing down on it slightly. “Oh fuck, Daddy,” he sighed out of habit, legs splaying open further.
Inside, he was leaking. Drooling hot, sticky strands of precum that coated and lubed up the hole. His head thrummed and hummed away at the prostate it was resting against. His hand pumped violently at Joe’s dick, desperate on catching him up to where he himself was at. ”Yours,” Rhys agreed. Just like Joe was his. He said ‘mine’ in an equally possessive tone just to further prove his point. Rhys rutted his hips, fucking his dick inside the other man, watching as it disappeared through the rim, dragging and sliding and pulling. His balls slapped violently against the cleft of Joe’s ass, sticky and tacky to the soft, delicious flesh. “You really do look pretty where I fuck you, baby. Stretched so wide and yet you’re so fucking tight.” Rhys’ balls slapped heavy and full against Joe and he moaned. It’d felt like a forever. It was a forever.
Oh thank goodness. Blankets went flying and his soft thighs were being spread around his husband, his ass cheeks parting in his lovers wake. Joe would take it that he was interested. He sighed and wiggled a little as soft, warm, plush lips kissed over his thighs and ass cheeks, fingers touching over the love of his life gently. He gasped softly, falling into the feeling as Rhys hot tongue licked around his hole, licking over him and against him and into him and it was wet and delicious and he wanted it so badly. A stuttery moan left his mouth at the vibration against his rim, toes curling a little and he swallowed, looking down at Rhys as he kissed and pulled away. “Oh-” he gaped and blushed harder, nodding his head a little. “Yes, Daddy, I love it when-” he was cut off with a lewd noise that fell from his mouth as he returned to lick and suck on his hole, hard dick pushing into the beautifully calloused hand wrapped around him. He gaped and wiggled as the hot, wet appendage pushed into him, licking him open and spreading him. “Oh yes~!” he gasped at the ceiling, wiggling and arching a little.
He worked a finger into the thrumming prostate, thumbed over Joe’s beautiful balls and licked them, sucking one into his mouth and then the other. He rolled his tongue along the hardness and pulled off. “You love when daddy eats that cunt, yeah?” He finished for him. Smiling like a devil himself. “You miss your daddy fucking your pussy, don’t you baby?” Two digits pressed against the prostate, pushing into it and he licked at the open hole, thrusting his tongue inside. “You look so pretty where I fuck you baby, shit.” Rhys left his entrance to the abandon, exiting him completely. He spread his husband’s legs further apart and slid between them, tapping the head of his leaking, throbbing dick on the other’s balls and he pressed it against the hole’s entrance. “I’m going to make love to you,” he said, just before the head disappeared inside with a pop. “Because you’re mine. And I’m yours. And I’ll make sure you never forget it.” Rhys slid home, moaning as Joe’s ass wrapped expertly around his cock, squeezing and enveloping him. The first time they had sex in over a month. He keened as the hot tightness took over. Swears pilfered from his lips. He dragged out, expecting it to be less intense but he was wrong. The friction was delicious.
Joe blushed himself as his husband buried his face into his neck and he giggled a little to himself. “Oh good,” he cooed sincerely at the report back. For it to be classed as a good night, and good sleep, sleeping like a log, it must have been an improvement. His eyebrow quirked up for a moment as a question was half asked and he waited. He nearly laughed at the question, biting his bottom lip and rolling over so he was facing Rhys. “Ah’d rather,” he breathed against his mouth, fingers running over his husband’s body needily, greedily. “If yoo ate my pussy,” and his ear flushed bright as a wicked thrill ran down his spine at the use of the word. “And then made love to me. Or fahk me. Whatever yoo wanna call it,” and he pressed a gentle kiss to his lovers mouth. “If yoo’re interested in that?”
He counted two Mississippi before he was between Joseph’s thighs, tugging blankets off and spreading soft, vanilla asscheeks apart. If he was interested. Rhys was going to make the fucking love out of him. He kissed thighs and the little crease in pert cheeks where they folded all day. The clench marks, he’d call them, from all the time Joe had to clench his ass together when Rhys would do something entirely idiotic. They were his clench marks. He spread them apart and licked his tongue around the hole, striping and flicking and laving him open. Rhys moaned just under his breath to send vibrations to his pucker and he pulled away with a kiss, smiling up to his lover. “You like your pussy licked, don’t you baby,” he asked, trying on the lewd lips for size. Back to work, he licked and sucked at Joe’s hole, wrapped a firm grip around his prick and started jerking Joseph off while he tongue fucked him, opening him, spreading him. Prepping him.
A happy little hum rumbled from his chest as he was held closer and he buried into his pillow a little more. He smiled sleepily at the kisses to his ear, his hair tickling his face as it was moved out of the way. “Mahnin’” he muttered softly, all warm Wisconsin accent and happiness radiating from his skin. “M good,” and he unburied his face a little and blinked, licking his lips. “Slept like a lahg,” and he half rolled his head, stealing a small kiss before snuggled back into Rhys. “How are yoo? How’d yoo sleep?”
Oh lord. The Wisconsin was showing. Rhys blushed, burned red at the nape of his neck and he buried his face in the nook of Joe’s throat. “Fuck you’re so adorable. I’m good. I slept like a log myself.” Minus the night fits and the series of dreams that made him reach for a bottle of pills that were no longer there. But he was okay with it. He was adaptable. He simply turned over and reached for Joe instead. “Can um, hm,” he smiled as he danced around the question. “Can I interest you in a morning blow job or pussy eating? Unless you’d rather just hold each other. I can do that too.”
Joe had taken to sleeping in as well. The cool weather and his own laziness had prevailed and he stayed in bed late with Rhys, snoozing the morning away and being warm and comfortable. Rhys’ sleep touching was something he was used to, and he slept through it a little. It was when the others fingers dipped into the hollow of his throat and plush lips pressed to his ribs, that he stirred and wiggled a little. There was a warm, heavy weight down his spine and big, strong arms wrapped around him and he gave a happy little sigh to himself, wiggling a little more in the others hold.
At thirty three years old, Rhys had his morning erections well managed. The hard members were tucked into the waistbands of his shorts to avoid poking and he could spoon almost normally. Even Joe’s wiggling wasn’t making him lash out like an insane dog in rut. He held his husband tighter, pulled him closer and kissed at the shell of his ear, pushing long hair out of the way. “Good morning, pengting,” he whispered. “How are you? “