Quillon's Covert (11 page)

Marty rested his chin on Martin’s abs and sighed. “It’s so totally fucked up. You remember the candy cane thing?”

His dad nodded. “Of course I do.”

Marty sighed. “I guess it’s not just some foods I’m afraid of choking on.”

“Jeez.” Martin blew out a breath. “I never thought about…it. That giving head might be a trigger.”

Although the thought of choking frightened Marty far more than he’d ever be able to put into words, he wanted to do this nearly more than he wanted to breathe.

Martin’s hands wrapped around Marty’s shoulders and he allowed himself to be pulled back onto his father’s firm body. Calloused hands rested at the small of his back, and he felt his dad’s toes playing at the outsides of his ankles.

Marty rested his cheek on Martin’s firm chest, and was nearly dumbfounded at his dad’s never-ending capacity to offer comfort and solace. Often times without even uttering a word.

“I love the man you are, Dad.” Marty toyed with a bit of the soft hair covering Martin’s chest. “You inspire me to be a better person.”

Martin’s chest rose and fell with a brief laugh. “Why, just because I’m not willing to let you choke yourself on my dick for my own pleasure?”

“Promise me we’ll never lose this,” Marty said ignoring the joke.

“The blowjob? I can’t promise I won’t miss it.” As he chuckled, Marty felt his dad’s cock jump between his thighs.

Marty lifted his head and looked down into Martin’s crinkled eyes. “The
love
, Old Man. The love.”

The playfulness in his father’s eyes faded and was replaced by sincerity. “I promise.”

The closeness of their proximity, along with his dad’s wet, hard dick bobbing between Marty’s thighs, rekindled his long-held desire for Martin.

“Believe me…” Martin kissed his forehead, “I don’t need a blowjob to fully enjoy this.”

Marty clinched his muscular thighs together, pinning Martin’s dick between them, and lifted his hips off his dad’s waist, before slowly lowering them again.

Martin’s gaze heated and he ran his hands along Marty’s sides. “Damn, that feels nice.”

Marty repeated the movement, building delicious friction. Each time he raised himself, he dragged his dick against Martin’s hairy abdomen, and every time he lowered himself, he felt his dad’s foreskin being dragged down the thick shaft it covered. The more he repeated the movement, the more his dad’s cock oozed precum and lubed his thighs.

“Um, faster,” Martin breathed.

“Kiss me.” Marty lifted himself up again and then pushed back down hard.

Martin sealed their lips together. Pushing his tongue inside, he fucked Marty’s face with a searching kiss, roaming the crevices of Marty’s mouth as Marty increased the rhythm.

They pulled apart as he felt his dad’s body tense, his own release creeping closer.

“D?”

“Yep, Right here, Buddy,” Martin panted.

Marty spilled onto his dad’s chest, followed seconds later by Martin exploding between his thighs. Marty collapsed into the feeling of strong arms wrapping around him. Those arms conveyed desire, and security, and love. They lay like that, wrapped up in each other; no words needed, simply sharing the same private space and the same private moment.

Marty thought back to his father’s question on the dock. No, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that what they’d just shared was clean, and reaffirming, and positive. He’d never look at this as anything even remotely bad or wrong. There was nothing perverted about the trust, or the love, or their shared history. All of it was as pure as it could be.

Eventually the need to adjust their positions found Marty’s back pushed into Martin’s chest, and they lay spooning on the carpet. Neither had bothered to clean up, the result of their lovemaking having long ago dried. Martin reached up, snagged a throw off the sofa, and pulled it over them.

Marty had just experienced one of the most memorable events of his life, so when Martin, who had a strong arm wrapped around Marty’s chest, relaxed into the beginnings of sleep, Marty searched for some way to prolong the momentous moment. He was reminded that humor was one of the ways he and his dad always connected.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“Sometimes the reason I took so long in the bathroom? It’s ’cause I was digging through the laundry basket looking for your underwear—to steal them.”

“Fucker,” he said sleepily. “And Mom blamed the cleaning service for helping themselves to my briefs.”

Marty groaned. “Oh God. I swear, I never even thought about her noticing.”

Martin’s lips pressed to the back of Marty’s neck in a smile. “Don’t worry, I inadvertently covered for both you and the innocent cleaning lady when I told your mother I’d probably left them at the gym. But, once again, you have the nerve to complain about
Tony being into really weird stuff
.”

Marty laughed, “I promise, I couldn’t help myself.”

Martin’s soft rumble against Marty’s back was exactly the addition he’d sought; the moment was complete. His dad’s lips formed another soft kiss, and then Marty was pulled back even tighter into his father’s strong chest. There had been few moments in his life that Marty could recall being completely at peace, he was sure this would always be one of them.

Chapter 6 – Finally

Marty / 19

“Leave it. Let it ring,” Marty’s rich voice demanded.

“When did you become so bossy?”

“Sometimes I
really
dislike that we have cell service up here now.”

Eyeing his dad warily, Marty lathered oily lotion over his chest and abdomen in preparation for another day outdoors. “I've been looking forward to these two weeks all year. How many games have we missed due to work commitments in the past twelve months?”

“I recall you canceling on me more than a few times too, kid.”

They both glanced down to the coffee table at Martin’s ringing cell, and Marty wasn’t surprised the caller ID displayed
Herr Krüger Ubel
. “Besides, that dude is a freak.”

“That dude is paying for your college education,” his father scowled. “And I raised you better than to talk about people like that, Martin Junior.”

Herr Krüger Ubel was the German software mogul who’d granted Quillon Designs several lucrative contracts, and it wasn’t like Marty wasn’t grateful for the business. He’d begun learning the ins and outs of his father’s company last summer after he and Martin talked again about what Marty wanted to do after college. He’d known for years he wanted to work with his dad, but Martin insisted Marty hold off on any decision regarding his future at Quillon Designs and, instead, focus on his education. Last year, here at the cabin, out on the dock, the discussion had finally been laid to rest when he told Martin,
I’m working for Quillon. So unless you’re not gonna hire me, I’d like to put this topic to bed
. Although the joy in Martin’s eyes at Marty’s decision couldn’t be missed, his dad had called him a mouthy brat and then tossed his ass into the lake.

Marty sighed. “I know you raised me better. But the way he looks at me sometimes…it just gives me the creeps.”

“He’s not creepy, Marty. He’s just…German.”

“You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?” Marty laughed. “Anyway, can’t we at least
try
to leave the outside world outside? Unplug. Like we use to?”

“I’ll unplug if you will.”

Marty’s fingers automatically roamed to his naked thigh as muscle memory led him to search for his phone. Only he was buck-naked. His eyes fell to the oak coffee table, but Martin picked up his cell before he had the chance.

Martin smirked. “You game? It’s not as easy when you’re on the receiving end, is it?”

“And how would you know what it feels like to be on the receiving end?” Marty quipped. He grinned as a bit of the color drained from his dad’s cheeks. Martin lowered his arm instinctively to cover his chest and protect his personal space. It cracked Marty up, seeing his powerful, macho dad tense at the thought of having a dick in his ass.

“Relax, stud, I don’t wanna top you.”

Martin furrowed his brows. “Why the hell not?” He craned his neck to stare down at his butt. The action forced Martin to make a 180 degree turn where he ended up with his back to Marty. “What’s wrong with my ass?”

“You’ve got a fine butt, Dad.” Marty admired the furred, brawny ass. “Better than fine. I just like to receive.”

Martin turned back around. “You do? Have you ever?”

“No, you know I’m a virgin, Dad.” And, unless everyone else was lying, he was the only nineteen-year-old virgin he knew.

“I know no such thing. I knew you were a virgin last year, but…”

He saw
that look
in his father’s eye and his heart sped up. When it came to sex, Martin was just like him; they both could go from casual conversation to instantly horned-up in a matter of seconds. His dad dropped Marty’s phone on the table next to his own and stepped closer. Marty shivered as his father’s calloused fingers slowly drew up his tense thigh. When they finally came to a stop, lightly gripping Marty’s thickening cock, he exhaled a shuddered breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The rough palm pressed against his dick, pulled upward in a gentle milking motion, and then abandoned it. Before he could protest, Martin had brought a finger to Marty’s lips and gently prodded them apart. The fat digit quickly swept across his tongue, before he felt the slick finger smooth over his swollen cockhead.

“D?”

His father’s lips were so close that Marty could swear he felt stubble brush across his lips with Martin’s enticing, whispered reply. “Yep, right here, Buddy.”

Martin’s other hand circled behind. His fingers landed at the top of Marty’s crack as he pulled their bodies together. Then the thick fingers trailed down his crack, using the sunscreen Marty had just finished smearing all over his body as lube, while slowly pushing his foreskin back down Marty’s dick until he reached the base. His dad’s fingers were deft, agile, inspired, and pursued their intention with staggering confidence. Martin’s fingers, at the base of Marty’s cock stilled, keeping his skin peeled completely back. The equally clever fingers of his father’s other hand applied gentle pressure to Marty’s opening that threatened to push through the unexplored passage.

Marty’s heart raced and he felt slightly lightheaded.

“You knuh-knuh-know,” he panted, “For a straight guy, you shuh-shuh-sure know…” His concentration broke when one of his dad’s strong fingers nudged just inside before slipping back out.

Martin grinned. “I know what, Son?”

His body shivered as Martin’s finger threatened to push back in, but instead made a slow, smooth circle around his opening.

“You, sure knuh-knuh-know what you’re doing,” he finally managed to force out.

“Yeah? Well, I may have watched a few videos.”

Jesus, the thought of his dad watching gay porn so he’d know what to do when they had sex was almost too hot for Marty to imagine. Particularly in his current state.

“D?” he whispered against his father’s lips.

Martin’s eyes twinkled. “Yep, still right here, Buddy.”

Marty had been prepared to ask a question, but when his father grazed his lips along Marty’s cheek, over his jaw, and nipped at his earlobe before following the same path back, Marty had lost all thought.

Martin’s warm breath brushed across Marty’s face. “I’m curious how do you know which you prefer, if you’ve never dipped your dick into a hot opening before?”

The crass, sexy words—words he’d never used with Marty before—had Marty’s knees shaking. Fuck, his dad was talking dirty to him, and he liked it. Marty closed his eyes as pleasure swarmed his body.

Just like that, the pressure on his ass was gone, and his dick felt nothing but cool air as it pulsed against his stomach in arousal. When he opened his eyes, Martin was out the door and already half way down to the lake.

“Bastard,” Marty hissed as he took off after him.

Nearly a full week of their short two-week break was already gone, but Marty was having the time of his life. Sex only got better with age, his dad assured him as they relaxed on the deck with two rods between their legs, reeling in their dinner. The sexual tension between them was palpable, like it always was now, even though what Marty really hoped for—to feel his dad inside him—hadn’t happened yet.

Marty wasn’t concerned, though. He had no doubt that by the end of this trip he would no longer be a virgin. That knowledge excited him as much as it tied his stomach and tongue into knots. It would happen. It was going to happen. They both knew it would. But he felt no need to rush it. When it did happen, it would be completely perfect.

Yeah. Right. It would probably end up being awkward as hell, and sweaty, and hot, and embarrassing. Real life very rarely followed a script. But no matter how it ended up, he couldn’t wait.