Dads (serial)

LawrenceJ

Expert Member
Joined
Feb 20, 2017
Posts
61
Media
0
Likes
216
Points
43
Location
London (Greater London, England)
Sexuality
100% Gay, 0% Straight
Gender
Male
Gavin clocked Angus almost as soon as it was too late, when the nice girl on the front desk of the gym was already processing his and Barry’s sign-up fees and handing them forms, crudely photocopied from old photocopies. To the right of the desk, Gavin heard the plastic gates hiss open and, turning, saw two men stride through to the changing rooms with casual, serious intent. Even from behind, they were unmistakable, like male models leaving a fashion shoot, one for a range of teenagers’ gym-wear, the other for mature men’s business suits.

“Just fill out some personal details, detailing your own personal bodies and fitness,” yawned the girl.

“Did you know Finlay and his father used this place?” Gavin hissed to Barry.

“What? Yeah, whatever, Dad,” said Barry, fumbling his glasses out of his pocket. “Of course they do. How do you think they ended up looking like He-Man and He-Man Junior? Five fruit and veg a day?”

“But this place, specifically?”

“It’s local. It’s subsidised. It’s good.”

“Aren’t you worried about running into them?”

“I see Finlay at college every day. It didn’t bother me when I was 13. Now that I’m 18, I can probably handle running into him another couple of evenings a week.” Barry was filling out the form quickly. “You’re not worried, are you?”

“It could be a bit weird if we’re getting undressed together.”

Barry looked up. “Oh, for goodness sake, if that’s going to worry you –”

“Not worry, exactly –”

“You’re going to be getting undressed in a whole room of other men,” said Barry. “And then working out in a room with them, and women too, in their skimpy leotards. Really hot, sweaty, fit women, not like Mum.”

“It’s just new,” said Gavin. “All this. I was never the sporty kid at school.”

“Well, snap!” said Barry. “That’s why I’m here! I want to feel different about myself before I head off to uni in autumn. I want to be able to hold my head up around other men!”

“I’m on board with that, soldier,” said Gavin gently, playfully punching his son’s arm. “I just thought, you know – you and Finlay have a bit of history, don’t you?”

“We used to be friends, if that’s what you mean,” said Barry, handing his completed form back to the girl and filling Gavin’s out for him. “People grow up, though. And I reckon I could still beat him at chess if he ever wanted a game.”

“Fat chance of that now that he’s ‘ze Terminator’,” laughed Gavin, scrabbling the form away from his son, who also burst out laughing.

“Bloody hell, your cultural references are medieval! Finlay’s more like – Zac Efron,” said Barry, putting his glasses away again.

Laughing and chatting, the pair of them went through the same hissing doors to the right of the gym desk, and on into the changing room.

As they entered the room, it all came back to Gavin in a rush – the school changing rooms, the sense of being exposed and judged, and that breathless, sweaty atmosphere. It was calm and quiet, and there were one or two men in here, half-naked, nothing like the schoolboys of Gavin’s sixth form in Croydon. But yes, there were Angus and Finlay, already nearly changed into their sportswear. Angus, in a skin-tight sky-blue top that showed every ridge of his abdominals, was just standing there in his crisp white boxers, his gym-shorts in one hand.

Gavin didn’t know why he checked out Angus’s packet. It was an instinctive thing. Almost like he was compelled to. Perhaps because he knew that the stronger, older man would also be the more well-endowed. He needed to take a look, check that it was true, and by how much.

Angus’s long, thick, flaccid cock printed a clear outline of itself in the crisp white material. It looked almost as if he was hard, that’s how big it was. Gavin looked away, but couldn’t resist looking back. Openly staring.

With a jolt, he realised that the stare had been noticed, by young Finlay. The eighteen year-old almost had a smile on his face. Gavin blushed, caught in the act, although, in the act of what, he didn’t know.

Barry had already shed his checked, plaid shirt, revealing pale, scrawny teenage flesh. Gavin decided to follow suit, as nonchalantly as possible. At least, he told himself, there was no chance of Dom coming in here. Dom was another gymgoer, as every man under fifty seemed to be these days, but he would probably be going to some fancy establishment in Chelsea in his lunch hour, before selling some desirable properties in Kensington, then driving back to his luxury apartment in Clapham and fucking Gavin’s wife, Deborah.

Fucking her so good that she had stopped loving, indeed respecting, her husband, Gavin. Fucking her so that she fucking feels something for once, as she had told Gavin to his face.

Wouldn’t it be funny, thought Gavin, if he committed to the gym – if he enjoyed working out here and building himself up. Wouldn’t it be funny if Deborah came home one day and found her husband in bed with a body like Angus’s, broad-shouldered, thick-chested, big-biceped, shagging a nice girl like the one working at the gym counter?

If only he had a cock the size of Angus’, though. Fuck, that would show her.

He found he was getting a hardon in his new white gym shorts. He sat down and covered his lap with his hands.

“Alright, fellas,” Angus called over his shoulder, in his rich Scots baritone, walking past them to the door. “Have a good one.”

His son gave Gavin a knowing smile, and squeezed Barry’s shoulder in a way that could have been supportive, but felt slightly bullying, especially the way Barry just let him do it and waited to be released. “Good to see you here,” said Finlay, adding, "I like a laugh," before almost pushing Barry away, before following his father out of the room. Gavin was sure he heard him add, "Little bitch," in a low laugh as he walked out.

"What was all that about?" he said, looking at his son. He couldn’t quite believe this young man was the same age as the confident, athletic teenager that had just stalked out of the room.

“Come on, Dad,” said Barry. “We’ll be late for our induction.”

And with no further words, they headed out onto the gym floor.

[To be continued...]
 

LawrenceJ

Expert Member
Joined
Feb 20, 2017
Posts
61
Media
0
Likes
216
Points
43
Location
London (Greater London, England)
Sexuality
100% Gay, 0% Straight
Gender
Male
Its Fathers' Day! Here's Part 2:



Gavin’s first time in a gym was a weird experience. He felt it in every limb and every organ: the pump of his heart, the fear in his belly, the sweat on his balls and up his hairy crack, the electric feeling across his skin, and the feebleness of his strength.

No matter how friendly the instructor was, and how little attention other gymgoers paid them, Gavin had never felt so weak, and believed that his son had never looked so unmanly. Circling around the floor, discovering this machine or that, getting weighed and attempting to do press-ups. Gavin felt weirdly humiliated for the first time since he was his son’s age.

And worst of all was the sight of Angus, on the bench press, heaving massively loaded barbells up high, every muscle straining in his skin-tight top, till it felt like Gavin could see the veins standing out on the man’s arms. Seeing him looking serious and focused and completely at home, making small talk with other musclebound blokes, curling dumbbells of ridiculous size.

Being hung so much larger than Gavin himself. Although nobody but Gavin himself knew that.

At least Angus stayed focus on himself. Every time Gavin looked at Finlay, it seemed that Finlay was watching the pair of them with a smirk. Even from the pull-up bar, which he used with apparently little effort: when Gavin and Barry tried it, they strained to get their skinny bodies off the ground.

And Finlay seemed personally interested in their failure, as though he took pleasure in it, getting off on his masculine superiority. Gavin started wondering if there had been some other story playing out at Finlay and Barry’s college. Something that had been kept a secret from Gavin. Something connected with Barry’s sudden, unexpected interest in joining a gym and building muscle.

All that kept Gavin focused on their gym induction was the thought that yes, in a year’s time, Gavin might have a body like Angus’, or at least more like Finlay’s, trim and hard and fit, but most importantly, Barry would too. If Barry went to university with a body like that, thought Gavin, he’d have his pick of the girls there. He could rule the roost. That was reason enough to keep at it.

And he would teach that vain little fucker Finlay a lesson, while he was at it.

He left the gym for the changing rooms feeling as though he had been through a religious experience, out of body, seeing himself and other men, and his son too, all vying for dominance, size and sex. Angus’s wife Sonya hadn’t left home. Sonya was satisfied with whatever Angus gave her. As for Finlay, Gavin didn’t know – did he have a girlfriend? A different girl every night? Did he fuck like a pornstar? He seemed built for it. Gavin would have to ask Barry about it, covertly.

He realised he had the beginnings of a hard-on again. Probably not the right time to go for a shower with his son and other men. “You go on ahead of me,” he said. “I’m just getting my breath.”

He was thinking about sex obsessively these days, ever since Deborah left him for Dom, and told him it wasn’t about love or faith, it was just about sex. He had had dreams about Dom and Deborah together, and then stray thoughts at work that grew into fantasies. He had wondered about his own ability to perform, and his cock size, and whether other men were better or stronger than him.

Could it be healthy? How long would he be thinking these things?

He focused on the eating plan their induction woman had given the pair of them, and very quickly his hard dick softened: counting calories, carbs and protein and snacks, it was so very dull. Then he headed into the shower.

Barry was there, showering next to Finlay, pointedly ignoring one another. Apart from the fact that Barry was dark and Finlay was fair, they almost looked like ‘before’ and ‘after’ photos in an advert for male hormone supplements. Finlay was stronger, taller, more upright, and he had a full beard coming through. Gavin didn’t dare look down and compare the size of their cocks.

Gavin wondered if Barry saw these thoughts on his face: as soon as he arrived, his son headed off, looking embarrassed. Finlay smiled hello to Gavin. “Had a good day?” he said.

Gavin stumbled. “It’s all a bit – well, you know, I mean – it’s…”

“I can imagine,” said Finlay, looking him up and down with a glance. “Stick at it, if you can. The ladies love it.” He gave the older man a wink, that told Gavin he knew all about his wife leaving, and why. Then he grabbed his towel and headed back into the changing rooms.

That would have been bad enough, but worse was to come. Barry suddenly realised he’d left his soap and shampoo in his kit bag, and headed back into the changing room.

There was Barry, steadily getting dressed, wearing only his plaid shirt and glasses. There was Finlay, only in his towel, still ignoring the younger man who had once been his pal.

Then suddenly, the wet towel was off and in a sudden movement, Finlay had whipped Barry’s bare arse with it. There was a sharp sound like the crack of a whip. Gavin nearly yelled out at seeing his son attacked in such a way, but immediately afterwards he reminded himself that this was pure changing room banter, the sort of thing young men did playfully after any sort of games. Intervening now would only make his son look weak.

He expected Barry to yell, and then laugh, and maybe retaliate, and waited to see it happen. Instead, Barry gave a sort of grunt of surprise, turned his head and stared over his glasses at his aggressor. The other teenager gave a quick muscle flex as if showing off for a camera, and Gavin was reminded of the extra strength that a young man like him would put into such a stroke.

Still, Barry didn’t respond any further, but returned to his things.

Now Finlay came right up close to the teenager who had been his friend, and whispered something in his ear. He took a few steps away again, still watching him for a reaction, and when none came, CRACK went the towel again. Gavin saw Barry’s scrawny arse reddening under the onslaught.

Still Barry said nothing, didn’t even turn his head this time. Finlay circled round, knelt on the bench beside Barry, displaying his superior musculature again, towelling himself off all the while. When he was sure that Barry was looking at him, he took care to rub the towel between his arse-cheeks, around his balls and his cock, pink from the shower’s heat. Then he dropped the towel over Barry’s own things and wandered off to get dressed.

Gavin didn’t know what he would do in this position, but hoped his son would show fire of some kind.

Instead, Barry picked up the towel, folded it carefully, and took it over to his bully like a valet serving his master. Finlay said nothing as Barry handed him his towel, barely looked at him.

Gavin turned away, anxious as hell suddenly that either Finlay or Barry would see him watching, know that the father had witnessed the humiliation of his son and doubled the shame.

In the shower’s heat, Gavin tried to work out what on earth he could do. He prayed that Angus wouldn’t join him right now, and indeed Finlay and his hefty father had left by the time Gavin got back to the changing room. Gavin and Barry had a laugh together and talked about calorie counting and rolled their eyes as if everything was normal.

But afterwards, Gavin kept thinking of Angus, and about the question of who was a real man, who was a real dad, and what responsibility they had for their son. He knew he had to take action.

The very next day, while Barry was out at a gig, Gavin took a deep breath, tried to calm his wildly beating heart, and drove round to the posh suburb that he had visited umpteen times in years gone by. He walked up to particular front door and leant with all his strength on the doorbell.

The door opened.

“Hey!” said Angus. “What’s up, buddy?”



[To be continued]
 

LawrenceJ

Expert Member
Joined
Feb 20, 2017
Posts
61
Media
0
Likes
216
Points
43
Location
London (Greater London, England)
Sexuality
100% Gay, 0% Straight
Gender
Male
Thanks @JackM. I'm imagining your response as I write from now on.

Sorry, though, I just realised I mixed two names up on Chapter 3. Here's the corrected version:


3



Gavin had been so full of angry energy. It was charging through his veins – about two seconds ago. The sight of Angus did something to that. He was a foot taller than Gavin. He looked almost as broad as the door. He had a full, imposing blonde beard that betokened masculine authority. He was dressed exceedingly casual, sweat pants and a scruffy white t-shirt that could have been contrived to demonstrate his strength and power through subtlety of gesture; like a toga on a Roman general. On top of all this, the fucker was smiling.

Gavin had been ready to yell and make a scene, but he felt completely suppressed by Angus’ calm authority. He took a nervous breath. “I, um,” he said, “I wondered if we could have a little chat. If you have time.”

“Sure,” said Angus, the smile fading. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” said Gavin, and then, “Well, obviously not everything. Or I, um, wouldn’t be here.”

“Good point,” said the other man. “Absolutely, come through. I’m waiting for a Skype meeting with a business partner, but other than that my schedule is clear.”

Gavin, who was a librarian, was used to having schedules dictated by others. It was strange to think of a life like this.

Angus’ house, too, was that of a wealthy man: modest yet stylish, light and airy. He led Gavin into the living room and turned to fetch him a drink from the kitchen.

A photograph of Finlay in a frame, holding a sporting trophy of some kind, brought home sharply why Gavin had come here and what he had to say. But it was strange – it had been redecorated in the intervening years, but once he had visited this house so often, just fleetingly, to collect or deliver an excitable son for after-school son.

“Gavin and Finlay used to be thick as thieves, didn’t they?” he said, smiling at the thought.

Angus paused in the doorway and turned. He seemed to tense up suddenly and grow sober. “Those were the days,” he said.

“Sharing books on astronomy, going to the observatory at Greenwich at the weekend – you know Gavin’s going to Manchester this autumn to study astrophysics?”

“That’s great for him,” said Angus, without smiling.

“What’s Finlay up to?”

“Art History at Edinburgh,” said Angus, almost shyly. “He’s mad about aesthetics.”

Gavin wondered what to say to this. “He certainly looked like a work of art at the gym the other day,” said Gavin. “You know, like a sculpture.”

“Absolutely,” said Angus. “He works so hard at that. Good to see you there, buddy. You guys get on okay with the gym thing?”

“Pretty new to me of course,” said Gavin, shrinking into himself somewhat.

“Well, you know, it takes time and commitment,” said Angus, looking down at his own powerful physique, his beefy forearms, strong hands, meaty thighs. “Doesn’t happen overnight.”

“The thing is,” said Gavin, “well, this might sound stupid…”

“It’s about the lads, right?”

Gavin felt relief fill his heart. “You already know?”

“I don’t know much. I’ve seen a couple of things and made a couple of inferences.”

“Well,” said Gavin, “yes, I suppose I don’t know the detail…”

“It pains me to say it, but I think we should stay out of the situation as much as possible,” said Angus, folding his big arms across his chest. “Yes, they used to be close. They used to be alike. They’re grown men now. They’re different and we need to acknowledge that.”

“Yes,” said Gavin. “But, you know, even so, we need to speak with them if possible to help things along.”

“I think it’s up for Finlay to forgive Barry, and not for me to intervene,” said Angus.

“Forgive?” said Gavin. “Finlay? Mate, you’ve got this whole thing topsy-turvy.”

“Excuse me?” Angus’ eyes were wild and his beard seemed almost to bristle.

“I saw your son, with all his superior strength, and I might say, superior attitude, bullying my son in the changing rooms at the gym,” said Gavin. He realised after saying it how loud his voice had got.

“Really,” said Angus, in a low, deep, warning growl.

“It was pretty disgusting,” said Gavin. “He smacked him with a wet towel.”

“Oh, please,” said Angus, dismissively. “You may not have seen it, for obvious reasons, but to my certain knowledge, locker rooms are full of that behaviour. It’s how men play, Gavin. It’s about working off testosterone. Perhaps you’ve never had enough of a surfeit of that to worry about it.”

“Okay,” said Gavin, “fine. But then he made my son pick it up.”

“How did he do that?”

“Well, he dropped it over his stuff, obviously and then – you know, walked away.”

“And your son took it to him?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” said Angus calmly, “well, that’s what you get for raising a little bitch, I suppose.”

Gavin couldn’t believe his ears. He felt the blood drain from his limbs. All the energy of the room seemed to coalesce invisibly around Angus in the doorway, arms folded imposingly over his big chest. “I beg your pardon,” Gavin said, his mouth dry.

“You heard what I said and you know exactly what I mean. I’m talking about alpha and beta males, Mr Librarian. The real men and the cucks. No offence – I heard about your wife.”

“There’s nothing alpha male about –”

“Like father, like son, I’d say,” Angus went on, stroking his beard as if to emphasise it. “Except your son seems to know his place, and you seem to be having trouble with it.”

“You really feel you and your son are dominant over me and Barry because of your strength and —”

“You know it’s more than that, Gavin. You’ve felt it before and you’re feeling it now. Physical, mental, masculine superiority.” Was it Gavin’s imagination, or did Angus straighten his packet inside his Levi jeans at exactly that moment, to remind Gavin what was in there: that long, thick, perfectly formed cock. Had Gavin been spotted looking? Had Finlay seem him and reported back? “Not that we often need to exercise it,” Angus went on.

“No,” said Gavin, sitting down. He was feeling even more lightheaded, as if the blood were rushing to one part of his body in particular and abandoning the rest of him, including his ability to think clearly. “Perhaps it’s true that you have a dominant quality, but there’s no reason to exercise it.”

“No reason? Barry has been ridiculing Finlay at college. Spreading rumours. Spreading images.”

“Oh, really?”

Angus paused. “I thought you knew. I thought that was what this was about.”

“I came because I saw Finlay bullying Barry in the changing rooms. Nothing more. There’s some history to this?” He had suspected something like this. But Gavin had always thought his son would tell him everything if there was some issue at college. What did Gavin really know about his son? Were they alike or not?

“History, there certainly is,” purred Angus. “Internet History, you might say.” He cast a quick look around. “Look, come up to my study. I need to show you something, and I don’t want my wife walking in on it. She wouldn’t understand.”

He turned and left the room. After a second, Gavin moved off after him.



[To Be Continued]
 

LawrenceJ

Expert Member
Joined
Feb 20, 2017
Posts
61
Media
0
Likes
216
Points
43
Location
London (Greater London, England)
Sexuality
100% Gay, 0% Straight
Gender
Male
4



At the top of the stairs, Angus’s office was spacious and honey-warm with the evening’s summer sunlight. His iMac immediately drew the eye, a huge screen on impeccable clear desk that made Gavin’s cronky laptop look like something a child would own. It purred almost inaudibly as Angus opened his browser and minimised Skype.

“Shut the door, would you?” he said, with a glance over his shoulder. “Sonya’ll be home from the office any minute now.”

“What about Finlay?”

“Out at a private view or something. Take a seat.”

Gavin sat down in an ergonomic office chair that had evidently been warmed recently by Angus’ meaty posterior. Gavin realised he was perspiring slightly in the warmth of the evening and wondered whether Angus’ sweat was in the chair, mingling with his. He still felt overwhelmed by the other man’s physicality, as if he were talking with a big animal.

Talking about the secret lives of their sons. What was he going to learn? He had already heard that his son was spreading rumours around their college. He had seen how Finlay had taken retribution. He had even seen how Barry had taken his punishment. So how bad had it actually been?

“Okay, so I can’t quite believe I’m showing you this, but –” Click.

Gavin’s heart gave a leap. “Oh.” He leaned forward to check that he was really seeing what he was seeing onscreen.

“It’s called MeatTube. A video hosting service like YouTube. But, you know – not like YouTube.” Angus sounded ashamed and disapproving, as if he was talking about something appalling and dangerous.

“Yes, I know,” Gavin said, too quickly. “I mean, I’ve heard of it. In an article in The Guardian, I think.”

“Right,” said Angus. “Young people have access to all kinds of shit like this these days. It’s an epidemic.”

This is it? thought Gavin. This is what the sainted Finlay has been doing, and caused all this trouble. Watching porn? Is Angus a born again Christian or something? Surely even born again Christians have a wank now and then. Barry seemed an even bigger pussy for ridiculing a lad who was just falling his normal, male urges.

“Well,” said Gavin, “I mean – at least he’s not out getting girls pregnant.” He forced a laugh. “I’m sure there’s an orderly queue at school.”

“I don’t think there’s much danger of that, seeing the sorts of channels and videos he’s been watching on this site.”

Gavin was flummoxed. “What sort of thing are we talking about? And how do you know?”

“I caught him in here one night. Well, not exactly caught, but surprised him. He didn’t log out properly. Take a look at this.” Click.

Gavin protested: “Honestly, you can just tell me.”

“I want you to see this. I don’t know if you know, but MeatTube isn’t just regular porn, it’s like – “ Angus struggled to put words to what Gavin already knew. The hundreds of women’s videos he had sampled, or couples videos, the galleries of images of hot women shedding their clothes, putting a hand in their panties, addressing the viewer directly.

Fuck, Gavin was getting hard again, in his hot, sweaty jeans, a thick, rigid hardon that Angus surely wouldn’t miss if only he turned around. Thankfully, Finlay’s Dad was busy scrolling through his son’s porn stash, waving his cursor around a page full of profile information, photos, videos, information on gifting to performers.

Gavin leaned in, hoping he could cover up his erection that way. Surely that wasn’t – was that a guy onscreen?

Click.

The profile name was Jack1999. A guy in a sharp suit, carefully keeping his face out of shot. A nondescript office environment, a couple of filing cabinets in the background. Loosening his tie. Discarding it. Shrugging his jacket off one shoulder, then the other. Discarding that. Feeling his hard muscle through the tight linen of his shirt. Then slowly unbuttoning down to reveal a lightly glistening torso.

“Oh,” said Gavin, the penny finally dropping. “So that’s what Barry’s been mouthing off about. Angus, mate, I’m so sorry.” He settled back in his seat, then realised he still had a hard-on, perhaps even harder than before, for some reason. Perhaps because what they were doing was so illicit. Perhaps the strange thought that he was sitting where Finlay must have sat while he himself got hard and wanked to videos like Jack1999’s. “Has he said anything about being – well, you know. Gay?”

“Not to me,” sighed Angus, looking sadly back at Gavin. “And Sonya doesn’t seem to know anything. I’ve said nothing about his videos, of course.”

“Of course,” said Gavin, “I mean, we all look at stuff like that. When we’re young, I mean.”

“Fuck, yeah,” said Angus, with a smile.

“It’s not the end of the world, though,” said Gavin. He leant across, still wishing his hardon would go down, and put a hand on Angus’s big, meaty shoulder. It was almost like touching the flank of a horse after it’s run a furlong: the heat and solidity went beyond human. “Your son may be gay, but he’s clever and athletic too. He’ll be fine.”

“Aye, totally,” said Angus. “And like you say, we all fool about a bit with our mates when we’re young and full of spunk, right?”

Gavin didn’t want to leave him hanging, so he said yeah, even though he never had. Maybe that’s what the fit lads were doing while the geeks were playing computer games when he was at school.

“Well, anyway,” he said, sitting back, feeling Angus’s perspiration on his fingers, smelling his cologne. Onscreen, the lad in the video was springing loose a short but thick cock and wanking it slowly, pleasurably. “I’ll have a chat with Barry about it. What did he do, exactly?”

“I don’t know exactly,” said Angus sitting back in his chair with his hands behind his head: talking seemed to be easing his burden and aiding their intimacy. The span of his arms and chest were unprecedently wide and round. Gavin tried not to stare, and found himself watching the lad with the thick dick in Finlay’s favourite video. The pair of them were watching it, as though entranced. Angus went on. “I haven’t talked to Finlay yet. But the comments are there for all to see.”

He moved and scrolled down the screen again. Comments under the video, with a little blue and yellow icon that Gavin recognised suddenly was the crest of Finlay and Gavin’s college. A string of comments by the same user.

* Barry I know who you are

“What?” said Gavin. “What does that mean? I know who you are? Who cares who it is? Who is it?”

Angus’s voice was almost a roar. “Who is it? Who do you think it is?” He stared penetratingly at Gavin. “Don’t you recognise the room?”

Gavin looked back at the screen. The naked teenager, Jack1999, face obscured but some blonde beard vaguely apparently, was clinging to the arm of his ergonomic chair now, like the one Gavin was sat in right now, as he evidently reached his vinegar strokes. Behind him, a couple of filing cabinets. Gavin turned his head – the same filing cabinets. The same room.

The same chair.

The same teenager.

“That’s Finlay?” he said, leaning in to look again.

In the video, a massive squirt of white cum bedecked the anonymous teenager’s hard, ridged abs. Beneath it, Barry’s comments were damning:

* Barry I know who you are

* Barry Your name is not Jack

* Barry I’m going to tell everyone you know.


[To be continued]
 

LawrenceJ

Expert Member
Joined
Feb 20, 2017
Posts
61
Media
0
Likes
216
Points
43
Location
London (Greater London, England)
Sexuality
100% Gay, 0% Straight
Gender
Male
5

“Jesus,” breathed Gavin. “I’m so sorry, mate. My son is such a dick. Even more so than I thought.”

“Yeah, well, he needed to be taught a lesson,” said Angus. “And thankfully my son is man enough to do it.”

“I totally get that,” said Gavin. “Put him in his place. It’s absolutely worked.”

“He ought to make him get down on his knees and –” Angus cut off mid-conversation. “Sorry. I get carried away thinking about this. I think about it all the time. The thousands of eyes on these anonymous bodies as they undress and perform. The conversations they must have. But I can’t talk to Finlay about what he’s been watching, about what he’s been doing. And I can’t talk to Sonya.”

“Maybe you should. Chat to your wife, I mean.”

“She just wouldn’t understand,” said Angus, running his beard through his big fist. “Especially these days.” His eyes went back to the screen with his son’s nude pics still laid bare on it. “When I caught Finlay jacking his dick for strangers, I was coming home late from – but never mind. The important thing is that your homophobic little pussy of a son knows now, that my son might be gay, but he’s not a cocksucker. He’s in charge and Barry does what he says.”

“But you know why Barry did it, right?” Gavin replied, heart pounding. “Pure envy. I mean, it’s like you said before. Physical, mental, masculine superiority. Your son is lean, ripped, strong – he’s hot, frankly. My son – well, not so much.”

“Girls go for the cute indie kid just as much as the intimidating beefcake in my experience,” said Angus, in Barry’s defence – or perhaps in criticism of him.

“On top of which, judging by this video, to a great extent Finlay takes after his Dad in the underpants department too.” Gavin meant it as a wry joke but as soon as the words were out of his mouth he realised he had said too much.

“How do you know what I’m packing, mate?”

Gavin blushed to his ears. “I just assumed,” he said. “Your swagger – oh, Christ, why am I pretending. I saw it in the changing room at the gym.”

“You looked at my dick in the changing rooms? First chance you got?”

“I was curious,” said Gavin, sweating now. “Ever since my wife left me, all I think about is sex. Men like you, who can just take it. I imagine becoming like you. Or what women in see in you.”

“Everything,” said Angus proudly, settling back and exhibiting himself luxuriously, his muscle, the bulge in his sweat pants. “They see everything in us. Let me tell you, the bitches start trickling as soon as you look at them. You can smell them. It’s delicious.”

Gavin’s dick was so hard now that it ached. He couldn’t resist feeling it, just to soothe it slightly. He saw Angus see the gesture, and smile at it. “Tell me more,” he breathed. The small room was heady with Angus’ pheromones.

“You shouldn’t feel bad about your wife leaving you for one of us, Gavin,” Angus continued. “It’s an animal instinct. She might even come back once she’s enjoyed herself. He might even be too much for her.”

“I’ve been trying to understand it,” said Gavin. “Whether it’s how he looks – how you look – or how hard he – I mean you – can fuck… or how big your cock is…” He looked down at Angus’s bulge again. It was a rigid, thick bulge, like a can of coke in his pocket, only twice as long. Through the grey cloth of his sweat pants, the big man ran thumb and finger up its solidity, creasing it very slightly to demonstrate that it was nothing but hard, sweaty flesh.

“All of that, little guy,” said Angus. “They want all of it. The whole thing. A real, alpha, hung dude. Like I said, it’s animal. Even you wanted to see it. Want to see it now?”

Gavin’s tongue was dry as he licked his lips. “Is that okay?”

“Once you get me started thinking about those dirty sluts,” said Angus, shaking his head, “I just need to clear my head somehow.” He reached inside and took it out for Gavin to see. “There. A straight comparison. I’m bigger than my son, aren’t I?”

Gavin swallowed, nervously. “Twice as big. Twice as long. Twice as thick.”

“You thought he was big. That was a relief to me. Watching the video, I thought he was small.” He looked from his son’s hard cock to his own juicy pink python. “Why don’t you show me yours for comparison.”

Gavin didn’t want to, but he knew it wasn’t a question. It was barely a demand. Simply an instruction. He unzipped his fly and took out his little cock.

“Come over here and hold it next to mine for comparison.”

Gavin obeyed, pressing his hard six-incher against the immensity of Angus’s donkey cock. The smell of Angus’s precum made him salivate.

“You want to feel how your wife feels? Want to get inside her head?” said Finlay, beaming a big smile out of his big blonde beard.

Gavin nodded.

“Suck that big fat cock, then, little guy,” said Angus, still smiling. “Get your laughing gear round that, sunshine.”

Gavin didn’t need telling twice. It felt as if it was his destiny to come here and bestow himself on Finlay’s Dad’s colossal dick. But how to do it? It was quite a different prospect from going down on his wife. The only way he could even begin was to do exactly as Angus said, and get into her head. He had imagined how she behaved with Dom.

Now he sank to his knees, pulled the fabric of the sweat pants down to Finlay’s huge bollocks, and pressed his tongue down there at the base of the monster cock. Slowly he ran his dry tongue up the hot breadth of the beast, till sweat and tongue were sped over the big bulge of the glans with a drool of salt-sweet precum. He closed his eyes and ran his tongue up the length of the cock, flicking to right and left and apprehend the scale of it.

The smell of it filled his mind.

“I said suck it, not lick it,” said Angus. “It feels good but that’s no reason to disobey me.”

“Right, sir,” said Gavin, snapping out of his drunken state. He had to shift from his knees to his haunches, puzzled over the angle, opened his mouth wide and fitted it over the big, shiny pink head. He retreated, shifted angle again, gripped Angus’ monster with his right fist and angled it into his mouth, and engulfed as much as he good, sliding his lips carefully off it.

It was, in theory, like swirling his tongue around his wife’s clit, the way she liked it, but on another scale. And sure enough, the more care he took of it, the dedication he put into it, made Angus groan involuntarily just like she used to do.

I can do it, thought Gavin. I can suck cock like my wife.

“Fuck yeah, little guy,” said Angus. “Take a little more.”

A strong hand rested firmly on the back of Gavin’s head. Gavin took a further length, feeling it fill his throat as no doubt it fitted itself into other places. The women who must have satisfied this big dong over the years, the wet pussies that must have left their residue on it, and now he had joined with them.

“Yeah,” said Angus. “Take that big dick, you little bitch.” How often had he said that to other women, to women like Gavin’s wife, to Sonya?

Somewhere in the house, the front door opened and banged shut.

“Evening babes,” called a voice. “You okay?”

For a long moment, the pair of them went on as they were, Gavin’s head locked on Angus’s monster cock. Then Angus groaned. “Oh fuck,” he said. “This always happens.” He stared down at Gavin, who looked back up through watering eyes, his mouth was dripping with saliva and precum. “You’ll need to speed up, son.”

“But –”

“Come on,” said Angus, “look at me. This beast doesn’t go back in its cave till I’ve spunked a load. Before she gets up here.”

“Darling?” called Sonya. “What’s up?”

Gavin set to with the big cock, wrestling it with both hands, sucking its sweaty length almost as aggressively as Angus commanded him. Spit and precum flying everywhere as they worked.

“You haven’t got a woman up there, have you?” called Sonya.

“No-o-o-o-o-o,” moaned Angus, the pleasure cracking his voice.

“You’ve got another one of your bitches here, haven’t you?” they heard Sonya yell. “I’m coming up there.”

Gavin worked faster, but the trigger seemed already pulled. Angus’s strong hand settled with one firm convulsive gesture on the back of Gavin’s head, clasped a hand over his own mouth to suppress a moan, and came in Barry’s Dad’s mouth, squirt after hot squirt, like unending hot milky tea from a big, thick mug. Gavin licked up the last incriminating drop with a slurp and heaved himself back into the ergonomic chair, while Angus leant across to minimise the window on the internet page.

And the door swung open.



[To be concluded]
 

LawrenceJ

Expert Member
Joined
Feb 20, 2017
Posts
61
Media
0
Likes
216
Points
43
Location
London (Greater London, England)
Sexuality
100% Gay, 0% Straight
Gender
Male
6



Angus’s wife looked almost disappointed to find Gavin in her house, where she had evidently expected somebody quite different. “Who are you?” she said, brow furrowed.

“You remember Gavin,” said Angus, clearing his throat and crossing his thickly muscled legs, looking guilty as hell. “Barry’s Dad. Finlay’s friend, Barry.”

Gavin felt himself blush at the thought of Barry described as Finlay’s friend, and suddenly had mental images of Finlay’s hot denial. Very hot. “Ah, we work out at the same gym nowadays,” he said. “We got chatting and Angus said he would give me some tips.”

“That’s funny,” said Sonya, “normally he only offers advice to women with big breasts.”

“Oh, come now,” said her husband. “Gavin doesn’t need to hear that…”

“Well, if you don’t want me to tell people about it, you shouldn’t let me catch you with your dick where it shouldn’t be,” she went on. She looked at Gavin. “Not just one woman. He invited all sorts of women back while I was on a business trip in January. He’s like an animal. A dog, in fact.”

More like a fucking donkey, thought Gavin, tasting the big man’s cum still wet on his mouth. What had happened just there? It was crazy and completely unlike him but he felt strangely keen for it to happen again. He looked at the heavily muscled alpha male squirming at his wife’s words. Minutes ago he’d been talking about bitches trickling as soon as they saw him. It was equally clear that Angus was a walking hard-on.

But hadn’t Gavin been like that, on the flipside, since his wife walked out on him? Obsessed with sex?

Somehow, the pair of them had met one another’s needs, drawn together by their equally oversexed teenager, and MeatTube.com.

“You look as if you could do with a bit of time in the gym, if you don’t mind me saying,” said Sonya. “Perhaps Angus can give you a bit of coaching. Then at least I’ll know where he is.”

Gavin exchanged a look with Angus. “Aye, good idea,” said Angus. “It’s not like I can get any action at the gym – separate changing rooms for men and women there.”

“I’ll be up for that,” said Gavin, feeling his hard-on poke up at the thought.

“I think we both will be,” said Angus, glancing down at Gavin’s crotch.

“Good, good,” said Sonya, almost breezily – an icy breeze, perhaps. “Like I said, sweetheart, until you’ve gone cold turkey for six months, no playing away, I’m not opening my legs.”

“Mmm,” said Angus. “We can get lots done in six months. I can get you working on your back, Gavin, squatting, handling heavy loads. You’ll get sweaty, I promise you.”

“Maybe Finlay can help out,” said Sonya, with blithe unawareness. “Where is he anyway?”

Downstairs, the door opened, and Finlay called up the stairs: “I’m back. What’s for dinner?”

Gavin’s phone pinged. “Speaking of dinner, I’d better head home. Looks like my own young charge is home from his gig.”

“Oh,” said Sonya, “they out together, or just coincidence?”

“Just coincidence,” said Angus and Gavin at the same time, and laughed. Sonya shook her head in dismay at their weirdness, and headed off to get changed out of her work attire.

“What’s your number?” asked Angus, reaching for his phone, as soon as his wife was out of the room. “I need to arrange our next workout ASAP, you dirty little whore. You suck cock so good, mate. And you swallowed – nice surprise.”

“The surprise is mutual,” said Gavin, raising an eyebrow.

Walking home and thinking about it, Gavin got hard all over again. Fuck, but he wanted more. He wanted to suck on that thick cock, to lap precum from the piss slit – maybe even to be pissed on. He wanted to be abused, tied up, used like a whore.

It was time to move on from online porn.

Barry was surprised by his Dad’s good mood that evening. “Did you get laid or something?” he said, peering at him suspiciously over his glasses.

“A gentleman never tells,” replied Gavin. “How was your night?”

“Touché,” said Barry, before heading off to his room, stopping only to pick up a big holdall from the hallway. Gavin had spotted the mystery holdall and thought it whiffed a bit of sweat, and assumed it was his son’s kit bag, but his kit was in the washing machine already so – well, never mind. Let young men keep their secrets, and older men hold onto theirs. Sometimes it was precious treasure.

Before he went to bed, Gavin finally allowed himself a proper wank. It felt like he’d been due one all evening. If only Sonya had been five minutes later! Gavin powered up the laptop out of habit and logged onto MeatSpace. He couldn’t resist temptation for long – and he searched immediately for Jack1999. Like father, like son, thought Gavin, and perhaps vice versa as well. He would enjoy browsing through “Jack’s” back catalogue of wank vids – and nobody needed to know he was perving over the eighteen year-old son of a friend.

A new video had been uploaded to Jack1999’s profile since Gavin and Angus had been looking at it, just an hour or ago. Gavin was about to scroll past it when he realised “Jack” had a partner in this one. So Finlay had found a friend somewhere.

It was shadowy, but the partner was recognisably Barry in tight fitting sports kit.

Gavin wavered for a second, then pressed play.
 

LawrenceJ

Expert Member
Joined
Feb 20, 2017
Posts
61
Media
0
Likes
216
Points
43
Location
London (Greater London, England)
Sexuality
100% Gay, 0% Straight
Gender
Male
The scene had been filmed in a changing room – not the one at the gym, it must be the one at the boys’ college. Could this have been where the pair of them had gone, the night before? Barry was sitting there looking shrimpish in his kit: not the sensible stuff he had worn earlier that week, but little white shorts that emphasised his slender hairy legs, and a spandex top demonstrating just how thin he was. The eighteen year-old’s hair was messy, and he was looking off camera through his glasses, his face unrecognisable in the shadow to anyone but Gavin.

Then Finlay stalked in, as if from a workout. He tugged off his top and threw it to the floor. He turned. “You checking me out, mate?” His delivery of the line was almost convincing.

Barry played his part well too. “No, I – uh, was just…”

“Is that why you came here? To watch the men do their thing? Doesn’t look like you could lift a pencil.” Finlay leant forward and gripped one of Barry’s scrawny limbs in his strong grip. Barry tried to resist, but couldn’t break away. Finlay crooked the arm right in front of Barry’s face to display the size of his biceps, the horseshoe of his triceps, the breadth of his forearm. “Take a good look, you little poof. That’s what a real man is like.”

Finlay stepped away, but continued to stand domineeringly over Barry. The bigger teenager put on a little show, grunting with each display of his sweaty musculature. When he finished, Barry stared up at him, almost expectantly.

“What are you waiting for?” said Finlay, and he reached in and tore the shirt off Barry’s back. “You need to show me what you’ve got you, little bitch.”

Barry hesitated, but Finlay moved in and gripped him aggressively by the shoulder, before thrusting him away. It was an action Gavin had seen him deliver, that first day in the gym changing room. He had automatically thought it was bullying – now he thought there was more going on.

“Come on,” said Finlay. “You can see the situation. The situation is that I’m a fucking alpha, and you’re a little cocksucker. Right?”

“Uh – right…” said Barry, reluctantly.

“Sir!” demanded Finlay.

“Right, sir!” said Barry.

“I am your master,” said Finlay, “and you’re my inferior. Right?”

“Right, sir!” said Barry.

Fucking hell, thought Gavin. He reached for his phone and texted Angus, while Barry pulled a humiliating series of poses for his master. By the time he’d sent the message, and got out his hard cock, Finlay was undressing, mopping the sweat from his body with a towel. Now he had thrown the sweaty towel over Barry’s stuff, just like the other day.

“Pick that up for me, you pathetic little cocksucker.”

“Right, sir,” said Barry dutifully, obeying, and hanging up the towel.

“Good little bitch,” said Finlay, with some evident pleasure. “You understand this relationship we have, don’t you?”

“You’re my physical superior,” said Barry. “Physical, mental, masculine superiority.”

“Let’s compare dicks,” said Finlay. “I could do with a laugh.”

He bent over and tugged down his shorts, then stood up to display his thick dick. Gavin found himself wanking his own little dick furiously, looking at the way the musclebound teenager proudly flaunted his endowment.

“That’s an alpha male dick, right there,” said Finlay. “You like the look of that, little guy?”

“Yes, sir,” said Barry dutifully, massaging his own erection through his tight white shorts.

“Right then,” said Finlay, with a laugh in his voice.

“Okay,” said Barry, and pulled off his shorts in one swift move so that his dick sprang out and smacked his slender, hairy torso.

Gavin was expecting Finlay to reprimand him for that “Okay”, but the muscled teenager said nothing. He seemed to be staring at Barry’s cock. When he spoke, it was without the usual swagger and braggadocio. “Fucking hell, mate,” he said. “I expected – I mean, I didn’t think – I mean, why didn’t you say you were so – fucking hung…?”

Gavin suspected this wasn’t in the script. After all the staged master-slave drama, there was an atmosphere now of something real. Finlay’s Dad had told Gavin he had thought Finlay’s dick was small in comparison with his own. Hard to think of it that way – but Barry’s dick, unexpectedly, far outranked Finlay’s in both length and girth. Rigid, almost squarish, its big head glistening, The teenager’s cock looked more like the outsized one that Angus himself had pulled out of his sweat pants earlier and forced Gavin to blow. Hanging off a skinny hairy eighteen-year-old’s body made it look obscenely large.

“It never seemed to be the right time to say,” Barry replied, shyly.

“Can I hold it?” said Finlay.

“Sir?” Barry gently corrected.

“Can I hold it, sir?”

“Yeah, wank me.”

The alpha, musclebound teenager sunk to his knees and got to work. “I can get two hands on it, and there’s still room,” he said, in amazement.

“That’s where your mouth goes, you little bitch.”

“It’s too big, sir. I can’t get my fist around it.”

“You just have to work harder. Now, take that big fucking cock.”

“Yes, sir.” Fortunately, the camera angle was just right to show how much Finlay struggled to accommodate Barry’s huge, hard, donkey dick. The phone camera even picked up his gulps, gasps and moan of pleasure.

Barry took off his glasses and settled a hand on the back of Finlay’s head. “Yeah,” he said. “Take that big dick, you little bitch.”

He pulled it out of his former bully’s face and smacked it hard on his check, smearing Finlay’s mouth and beard with sticky precum. The donkey dick looked even more engorged and thick than before.

Gavin’s phone buzzed with a text. Did not expect that, said Angus.

Bigger than you? Gavin texted back.

Buzz. Maybe. We could compare.

Gavin’s heart was in his mouth. I wonder if they’re into that.

Onscreen, Barry was forcing Finlay onto his back on the changing room bench. Parting his huge muscled thighs. Spitting on his arsehole. Guiding it inside. The phone camera was at the wrong angle now, but at least you could see Finlay’s expression and hear his gasps, like a weightlifted straining under a weight that might – just might – be too much for him.

Buzz. One way to find out. And after that – I’m training your boy up. He’s going to be a true hung, muscle alpha by the time he’s twenty.

As Gavin spunked his load at last, mirroring his son on the laptop screen, he thought: I’ve never been so proud.



The End
 

LawrenceJ

Expert Member
Joined
Feb 20, 2017
Posts
61
Media
0
Likes
216
Points
43
Location
London (Greater London, England)
Sexuality
100% Gay, 0% Straight
Gender
Male
Thanks guys. Sorry if it was too 'short' for you - I didn't think people were too invested in it, so decided to resolve it with the two obvious big get-togethers. Obviously Gavin still needs to actually get his straight arse fucked, so perhaps people can imagine the sequel...
 
D

deleted907269

Guest
Thanks guys. Sorry if it was too 'short' for you - I didn't think people were too invested in it, so decided to resolve it with the two obvious big get-togethers. Obviously Gavin still needs to actually get his straight arse fucked, so perhaps people can imagine the sequel...

Sequel please!
 

Equine74

Experimental Member
Joined
Mar 20, 2008
Posts
46
Media
6
Likes
15
Points
228
Location
London
Sexuality
90% Gay, 10% Straight
Gender
Male
You write the best stories. And this is my favourite.
You really capture that dynamic of power and awe when someone has a massive cock.
 
  • Like
Reactions: LawrenceJ