Quillon's Covert (16 page)

Pushing open the cabin door, he reached down and tugged at his foreskin, loving how long it had gotten. Both Andrew and his father had made mention of it, and both seemed to like it. He was by no means immodest, but he knew both men also enjoyed his larger size. Marty got a kick out of seeing the unmistakable pride on his dad’s face every time he got fully erect, as if Martin took credit for the size of Marty’s dick. Maybe he had some right to, since Marty was an extension of Martin. His dad had nothing to be shy about himself in that department, but Marty had been larger than his father for several years now. And even though Martin ribbed him about not wanting to top, Marty knew his dad was grateful Marty was completely content with being on the bottom—and keeping his cock well away from Martin’s virgin ass. Marty shook his head and grinned at the thought of fucking his dad. Nah, that wasn’t something he was even remotely interested in.

Closing the door, Marty stood just inside. The room was filled with the unlit emergency candles they occasionally had to use when the power would go out, and two sweating bottles sitting on the nightstand.

He smiled. “What’s all this?”

“You wanted the full treatment? You got it,” Martin said and started lighting the candles.

Marty rubbed his neck and chuckled. “Um, you give Mom beer?”

“Mom gets her Bordeaux wine. The beer is mine, and there’s another one of those Hard Lemonade things you like so much.”

Marty was touched by his dad’s effort at making the last night of this year’s trip memorable.

“Hit the lights, then join your old man on the bed.”

Marty flipped the switch by the cabin’s only door and crawled on the bed slowly, drinking in his dad’s defined torso under the dim candlelight. His eyes trailed down to Martin’s package, but it was mostly hidden in the low light.

Martin’s eyes twinkled. “What are you thinking?”

“I was wondering where the music was,” he said with a wink. “I mean, you always have music playing…some pop thing, right?”

Marty sat down close to Martin and winced slightly as his butt settled on the soft sheets. “Well, I was thinking that
and
how I can’t wait to find out what you’ve got planned”

Martin ran a hand down Marty’s spine. “Did I get you that bad?”

“Nah, no worries,” Marty said with a wink, and laid down next to Martin. “It’s a nice sort of…ache.”

His father rolled over on top of Marty, aligning their pelvises, any concern over Marty’s sore ass long gone. In its place was heat and need. Martin took Marty’s wrists and gently pinned them over his head. Marty wrapped his legs around Martin’s waist, enjoying the comfortable pleasure of submitting to his father’s will.

The soft skin of Martin’s lips briefly dragged over his. “You’d tell me if I went too far, right? Because…that’s something I’d like to do again.”

Marty thrust his hips up and strained his neck forward, running his tongue along Martin’s full lower lip. “Fuck,’ he rasped, “you have no idea how much I’d enjoy that.”

Martin grinned and dipped his head in to nip at Marty’s neck. “Okay, rule number one for tonight: do as I say.”

Martin’s tongue flicked out and lapped at the slight red mark. Marty offered a nod. “Is there a number two?”

Martin pulled his head back enough to catch Marty’s gaze. “Rule number two: do as I say.” He grinned and pressed their lips together in a lingering kiss that desperately pulled at Marty’s loins.

Martin let up on his wrists, brought his hands slowly down along the muscles in Marty’s arms, briefly playing at his collarbones, before they reached his chest. His father’s skilled fingers flitted over Marty’s protruded, sensitive nubs. They flicked, and rubbed, and pinched lightly while Martin’s tongue played with his. This alone could very well send Marty into the moaning fits his father had promised.

Marty pulled his mouth free. “Dad…my nipples.”

Martin ignored his protests and locked their mouths together again.

His damn nipples would be the end of him. For some reason his inability to handle any sustained nipple stimulation had fascinated every boyfriend he’d ever had, and that included his dad. The squirming and writhing this single erogenous zone caused seemed to ignite the dominant part of every guy he’d ever been with. Marty moaned into his father’s mouth as Martin’s fingers pulled delicious shocks of pleasure out of his body.

His dad broke the kiss and Marty gasped for air as Martin nipped kisses along his jawline. He trailed down Marty’s neck, pausing at his surgery scar to delicately slide the tip of his tongue across it, and then continued down to Marty’s chest. Of course, Martin couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take one of Marty’s nipples in his mouth and suck, only releasing it when Marty’s back lifted off the bed.

Marty shuddered uncontrollably, threw his head to one side of the pillow, and hissed, “Fuuuck!”

“Ask and you shall receive; moaning in pleasure is what you wanted, right?” Martin chuckled.

His father’s fervent kisses moved down his torso, brushed over his abdomen, and ended in his sandy-blond pubes.

Marty’s hips bucked off the bed as his dick was, without warning, surrounded by silky warmth. His eternal guilt at not being able to offer his dad the same pleasure reared its ugly head briefly. However, the constant pull of Martin’s tongue, something his dad had become alarmingly good at, banished the fleeting thought.

The thrilling, familiar tingle in his nuts signaled his approaching orgasm. He nudged the side of his dad’s head in warning.

“Nuh-nuh-not gonna make it long,” he panted.

“Hmm.” Martin smiled around Marty’s dick, but made no move to ease up.

“Seriously, Duh-duh-dad…” But he’d no more than finished the stuttered words, when all thought was robbed from him. His back arched, his body tensed, and he unloaded into his dad’s relentless throat.

Martin didn’t miss a beat and swallowed everything Marty gave him. He kept milking Marty’s cock until the crazy tenderness of his dick had him laughing under Martin’s persistent tongue.

“Enough,” Marty bleated.

Martin finally released his softening dick and it landed heavily against his trembling thigh. Marty sank his head into the pillow with a satiated sigh. Andrew was good at giving head, perhaps technically better than his dad, but no one would ever draw an orgasm out of him like Martin did.

Martin had gone conspicuously quiet and Marty mustered the strength to lift his head and look down to the bottom of the bed. What he found was his dad staring up at him in quiet contemplation. The look on Martin’s face was indiscernible. Perhaps a mix between melancholy and desire?

“What’s wrong, Dad?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Martin said after a moment and wiped the corner of his mouth. “I was just…enjoying the sight of you.

Marty smiled down at Martin and his chest swelled. He loved the man staring up at him. Had always loved him, from his earliest memories.

“D?”

“Yep, right here, Buddy.”

Martin smiled at him again, then broke eye contact and placed his hands on Marty’s knees. He trailed them down to his calves and pushed his legs apart. Raising Marty’s legs up, he brought his hands down to rest on the back of Marty’s upper thighs. It was at that moment, with his dad’s face mere inches from Marty’s ass, that things fell into place.

His dad was planning on going where Marty had never let anyone go before—not even Andrew. Marty had no idea why he’d never allowed it. Perhaps it felt too personal. Too intimate. It’s not like he was shy, or unwilling to try new things. But, as far as his body went, it was the one thing he’d never permitted. This would be another first he and his father would share. And the prospect terrified Marty almost as much as it excited him.

“Dad, I'm not sure—”

Martin looked at him with such sincerity, such desire, that Marty’s hesitant protest died in his throat. It wasn’t as if Martin didn’t know he hadn’t done this before; there was nothing the two men didn’t share, no real secrets between them.

“Shh. Just let me do this for you, okay?”

Marty thought about it for a few seconds, then nodded and rested his head back on the pillow. “M'okay.”

A foreign, wet pressure flicked against Marty’s most intimate part, and he had to resist the sudden urge to pull his strong legs together and call Martin off. His dad’s hands rubbed the backs of his thighs reassuringly while, at the same time, keeping them held apart. Marty made the mistake of looking down and saw the top of Martin’s head between his thighs. Unquestionably it was one of the most erotic sights he’d ever experienced.

Martin’s scruffy evening beard scratched the tender insides of Marty’s thighs and ass, but it only added to the new and illuminating sensations coursing through his body. He squirmed, trying to keep his muscle tight, but his dad’s probing tongue was persistent. When Marty relaxed slightly, Martin was encouraged and pressed his tongue deeper, only to pull back again. He licked and kissed and nibbled, and Marty became utterly lost in the feelings. Gone were thoughts of clenching, or relaxing, or of anything but his father’s mouth on him.

He’d allowed two men, Andrew and his father, to take him. And as different, as talented, as varied as the two men were with their lovemaking, Marty had never felt a sensation anywhere close to this.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, he whispered, “D?”

“Yep, right here, Buddy. A little busy at the moment, though.”

Marty grinned into the side of the pillow and felt his father start back up again.

“I’ve just never…” Marty panted, “felt so close to anyone.”

He felt the nip at his thigh almost before it happened, so when his dad’s teeth actually clutched his skin, it didn’t surprise him, but instead he marveled at how well he could predict his father.

“Seriously,” his dad husked, “You wanna talk right now?”

Martin inched his head up and took Marty’s balls into his mouth. Marty looked down and caught his dad’s playful gaze.

“Just so you know, I’m never letting anyone else do this…it’s gonna be something kept between us.”

Martin’s tongue slowly slid over his nuts, his heated eyes never leaving Marty’s, before he let them slide out. “That’s great, really. We’ll talk more later.”

Before Marty could respond, Martin resumed with gusto, and Marty found the lapping sounds were a perfect usherance into a new phase of his life. He and Martin had shared so much in this cabin. He recalled how just a few years ago, here in this same room, they’d shared their first real touches. Even though they’d both grown far beyond those initial, tentative caresses, tonight’s feelings were no less intense or profound or meaningful.

Martin’s talented tongue fired up Marty’s recently sated libido, and his cock began to swell to life again. His father noticed, and started slowly stroking him while he pressed his tongue in even deeper. Martin’s languid movements conveyed a complete lack of urgency; the goal wasn’t to get Marty off but instead to provide as much pleasure as possible.

The wet warmth between his thighs retreated, and Martin raised his head. He panted heavily while still working Marty’s dick, then let go of the other leg and pushed himself up on the bed. They were face to face, and the lust in Martin’s eyes nearly robbed him of his breath.

He looked Marty in the eye again before dipping lower and kissing him deeply. Marty tasted his dad’s familiarity, but something else too; a slight musk that heightened his growing hunger.

When Martin finally pushed inside of him, his thrusts were gentle. However, with the sustained foreplay, they were both speeding toward orgasm, and reaching the end didn’t take long for either of them. Marty joined Martin moments after his father’s body seized with pleasure.

Their arms and legs lay relaxed and intertwined, and they alternated between kissing and soft petting. Tomorrow, life would once again come at them full force, but right now, they had the entire night ahead of them. They had each other, and they had this. No matter what life did, it couldn’t take this away.

Epilogue – M and Peace

Marty / 27

“Gumpa?”

“Nearly there, buddy,” Marty said, darting his eyes into the rearview mirror. He breathed easy when he saw that Martin III, or M as most folks called him, was still securely strapped into his car seat. He swore sometimes the boy was Harry Houdini’s son and not his and Andrew’s. Smiling, he shook his head because he knew his parents had worried just as much about him when he was M’s age. And most times, Andrew worried even more than Marty did.

Marty kept his eyes on the road, but scoffed at the ridiculous concerns some of his friends had voiced about how he would love M more than Andrew would, just because M was Marty’s biological son. In fact, if worry alone were any measure of love, Andrew had Marty beat hands down when it came to M. Besides that, Andrew’s beautiful sister Cassandra had been their surrogate, so M probably had just as much of Andrew’s DNA as he did Marty’s. And it showed to; M had been lucky enough to get Andrew’s family’s deep green eyes and brilliant blond hair. Andrew loved M just as much as Marty did, of that there was no doubt. However, when it came to loving M, Marty didn’t think he’d ever seen his dad more proud than he was the morning he and Andrew’s son was born. Martin had run a finger softly over the Quillon nodule sitting atop the tip of M’s left ear and grinned so wide Marty thought he might hurt himself.

A corner of Marty’s mouth lifted when he thought about all the people in M’s life who loved him. Their boy was flanked by affection from all sides, just as Marty had been. When he checked the mirror once more, for the umpteenth time, he was filled with gratitude at the utter joy in his son’s eyes.

“Gumpa?” M shrieked again in excitement.

“Almost!” Marty said. And although he felt just as enthused as M, he made sure he kept to the speed limit. He had far too precious cargo in the vehicle to take any chances. As the dirt road marking Quillon’s Covert approached, Marty couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’d taken this turnoff in his twenty-seven years. Even if the majority of those years it hadn’t been Marty driving, one thing remained the same: a loving father was carefully driving his son up the mountain for the annual boys’ getaway.