Charlie McConnell helped Braden unload the car. His son was coming home for the summer after freshman year at Northwestern and his father couldn’t be more thrilled. The boy had spent Christmas break with his mother and her new husband up in Wisconsin, so it seemed only right. And school and lacrosse kept the boy too busy for weekend visits home. Only Charlie realized how much he missed Braden, on so many levels.
Thing was, he almost didn’t recognize his flesh and blood when the young man had stepped out of the driver’s seat of the beat-up Corolla. It was the same Braden, but he’d put on a hell of a lot of muscle his freshman year. 6 foot 4 of hulking athlete body greeted Charlie as he came around to help his son with his things. But the main surprise was seeing the way he was dressed. Other than his youthful face and his firm-taut body, he was dressed head to toe like a middle-aged suburban man. Golf shirt, khakis, dated aviator sunglasses, the whole works.
“Hey Dad,” he greeted his father, nervousness evident in his voice. He wasn’t sure how his Dad would take his attire. He felt exposed standing in front of his dad like that. Naked emotionally.
His father did have a million questions on his mind but just gave Braden a quick hug. Beneath that loose golf shirt was the firmness of 19 year old muscle. “Hey son, great to have you home. Hope you won’t get sick of your old man over the summer.”
Braden pulled up his duffel bag out of the back seat and accompanied his father to the front door. “You kidding? I wish I could have come here at Christmas. Wow, your place looks great, Dad.” Charlie has gotten tired of the humdrum divorced-bachelor townhouse and had hired an interior decorator. Nothing too froo-froo, it still was very much a masculine space, but it felt lived-in now.
“Your place, too, kiddo,” Charlie said as he pulled the familiar faded Royals ballcap off Braden’s head and ruffled the medium-length hair. “Great to see you.”
“You too, Dad.” The son was looking expectantly at his father and for a minute thought his Dad would lean forward and kiss him. Instead, his father took Braden’s duffel from him and clapped his right shoulder with his free hand.
He nodded his head down the direction of the hall. “I’ll put your things in your room.” It gave him no small satisfaction that he could say that, he’d made sure the spare room didn’t feel like a spare room but like his boy’s own. “And we can go out and get some real barbecue, not that slop they serve in Chicago.”
Braden laughed, and pulled off the faded Royals ballcap to wipe the sweat off his brow. It was an unusually warm May day and his nervousness at being back home was adding to his perspiration. “Sounds great, Dad.”
* * *
The conversation came pouring out, and Charlie was feeling guilty because he kept looking at his son. Admiring him. His eyes lingering on Braden’s ruddy cheeks, his bright smile, the way the chestnut-brown hair was starting to get blonder highlights from the summer sun.
It’s not like I can’t hold a real conversation with Braden, he thought, but damn he’s hot. Charlie’s own boy. If Braden wasn’t up for starting anything up again, that’d be fine. It would all be for the best, even. Maybe they’d put the fooling around behind them and become a normal father and son. But the last months, Charlie had jerked off a few times remembering the slow, passionate make out sessions with Brade.
And the looks the college stud was giving him, lingering, intent and affectionate…. It was giving Charlie a real bone that he did his best to arrange in his jeans.
The conversation now wasn’t helping. “You look like you’re in real good shape, Dad,” Braden said, in an earnest tone that was 180 degrees from the bored tone most of Charlie’s friends sons used with their parents. “You been working out more?”
“Pete’s convinced me to train for a half marathon,” Charlie admitted, referring to his best friend, who’d just gone through his own divorce and was getting back into shape to tone up for the dating market. “I lost about ten pounds of the spare tire I put on during the divorce,” he admitted. “Got about 10 or 15 more to go.” Almost unconsciously he tightened the ab muscles of his midsection and flexed his arms.
“You look awesome, Dad.” Braden looked around and saw there was a family in earshot. Charlie sensed he wanted to say something. “What?” he prompted.
“I’ll tell you later,” the teen said.
That made Charlie’s cock throb harder, and he was wondering if he’d be able to leave the restaurant without being on obscene display.
It was like Braden could read him, know what was going on. “You too?” he asked, a conspiratorial smile on his face. “I was going crazy all the drive down. Thinking about being home. This summer.” His son spoke in clipped, cryptic sentences, not to give away his meaning, but enough to communicate to his father.
It was nasty, talking like this in public with his only son, but the taboo made Charlie’s blood pump. “I almost flew to Chicago last month.”
A look of excitement filled Braden’s face. “Yeah? That would have been awesome.”
Charlie smiled, imagining the weekend the two could have had with a hotel room booked on points. His boy showing Dad the big city. Or maybe the two never leaving their room, just calling room service. But he gave a knowing look and said, “You need to live your college life without your old man butting in.”
Braden shook his head. “You know I don’t see it like that Dad.”
Charlie took the last sip of his iced tea. “So…. how bad is it?”
“Is what?”
“You know….” He couldn’t come out and say “erection,” not here.
Braden caught on. “Pretty hard.” A knowing grin on his face.
“Scale of 1 to 10,” his father teased, enjoying the flirtation they were having.
“11,” Braden chimed in without missing a beat. “And you?”
“12,” Charlie replied, his breath getting heavy as he realized the full forbidden implications of their conversation.
* * *
They made it out of the restaurant without any incident but both McConnell men were giggling as they got into the car, the naughtiness of the situation turning to laughter.
“If there weren’t security cameras in this parking lot, I’d kiss you,” Charlie said, eagerly starting the car so they could get home.
Braden leaned back, his hands on his legs, letting out a deep breath. “Dad, I’m so turned on, you wouldn’t believe.”
“Good,” Charlie said, careful to keep his attention on the road. “I like you that way.” He turned left onto the interstate that promised the fastest route home.
The two were worked up when they got in the door they attacked each other, mouths open, hands pawing at each other’s bodies through their clothing.
They stripped one another, in a hurry, eager to feel each other’s nude body. Braden loved his father in any shape or size but it was a real rush to feel the fitter dad bod writhing against his own. And Charlie could feel every ounce of jock muscle Braden had put on in nine months at college.
Nine long months!
They kissed with a passion each knew he had but was afraid to show. The fact the other wanted it, so badly, drove each of the McConnell men on. They alternated finesse with hunger in their kisses.
Finally Braden backed off and started to kneel in front of his father.
Charlie caught him halfway down the assent, gripping his son’s arms tightly to hoist him back up.
“Dad!” Braden cried out in complaint. “I’ve been thinking all year about this.”
“I’ll come in twenty seconds,” Charlie explained. “And there’s been something else I wanna try.”
Braden looked in surprise at his father. “What?” He wanted to suck his dad’s cock so bad.
“A surprise. Please. Do it for me.”
It was a request Braden couldn’t deny. Ever. “All right.” Smiling again, eager to see what his horny dad had in mind.
Excitedly, Charlie led Brade to the master bedroom, where he’d laid out a wrestling mat on the floor.
“What…?” the jock asked, unsure what his father had planned.
“I’ve always wanted to frot.” Charlie explained, picking up a tub of crisco. “You game?”
Braden chuckled, “I’m a little dumb dad, what’s frot?”
“Rubbing your dick against a guy until you shoot off.” He didn’t take time to get his son’s response but stepped up and started rubbing Braden’s nude front with the semi-liquid grease, which instantly melted into a slick, shiny sheen. “Lay down on the mat,” he urged, an impatient horniness in his voice now.
The excitement was rubbing off on Braden. He nodded and scramble down to lie face up. He groaned as he felt his dad’s thicker body lie down on his. Every bit of this felt awesome. Dad’s weight, his kisses, the strong grip on Braden’s shoulders, the thrust of his hips.
“Fuck, Brade, this is incredible,” Charlie huffed as he ground his cock against his son’s greasy stomach and erection. “You’re incredible. Your body. You’ve bulked up this year, son.”
“Yeah, Dad. Trying to get more like you.”
“Fuck!” the idea was perverse but it added to the father’s excitement. “My big boy wanna be like his daddy, huh?”
“Yes, sir!” Braden responded, thrilled he could answer at full volume, no one to discover them. Father and son’s mating ritual in the privacy of their home.
Charlie’s thrusts got faster and faster, and the sensations were driving Braden wild too. The young man bucked his hips back in response, getting into the frot-fuck. Braden was the first one to reach the finish line, and both mean moaned as warm semen spurted between their writhing bodies, frothing up on the oily skin.
“Christ, boy!” Charlie grunted as his own fatherly seed spurted between them, adding to Braden’s related DNA.
The men connected with a deep-tongue kiss as they came down from their orgasms.
* * *
The McConnells rinsed off the grease and cum and sweat in the shower and Charlie slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms. He rifled through his drawer and pulled out another pair. “You want some, too, son?”
Braden got an excited look. “Oh, yeah, Dad.”
The waist band was loose on him but the college jock seemed happy strutting behind his father into the open kitchen area. Charlie pulled out a cold bottle of beer from the fridge, gesturing to Brade if he wanted one, too.
“Sure, that sounds awesome.”
The two sat, face to face on the bar stools, grins on their faces.
“What?” Charlie finally asked to break their stare.
“That was awesome Dad. You showing me something new.”
“Yeah,” the father admitted. “I shouldn’t say this but I’ve been thinking of doing that for a while.”
“I wanna try a bunch of different stuff with you this summer.”
Charlie couldn’t believe the two had an entire summer to look forward to. It was wrong, but he looked forward to this incest honeymoon of sorts. Still, a though nagged at him. He had to ask. “So…You dressing like an old man now?” Charlie had said in a voice he hoped was not too stern.
Braden had just blushed and replied. “Yes, sir. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind?”
“Trying to be like you.” The words flowed out. “I’ve worshipped you since I was a small boy, Dad. Tried to copy every little thing. Your walk, your voice, the way you dress. It’s fucked up, I know.”
Charlie put his fingers under his son’s chin and lifted it up until the two men looked eye to eye. “Hell no, never be ashamed of anything around me, you hear?” His fingers traced along his son’s strong jawline. “But do the other guys, your friends, say anything?”
Braden nodded. “Yeah, a little. One guy on the team called me Alex P. Keaton after I wore a suit to class. Usually though I just wear khakis and a polo in a way that fits in. The guys just think I’m preppy.”
“But you want more.” the father prodded.
“Yessir,” Braden answered softly but more confidently, now that his father wasn’t outright disapproving. “When I knew I was getting ready to come down here I put on the other stuff. One of your old golf shirts…. I’m sorry dad.” A scared look formed in his eyes but his father reassured him.
“Now, there, I’m flattered boy.”
“Yeah?” Braden suspected his father was just saying that.
“What did I say about not being ashamed?” Charlie took a swig of beer and stood up, his hairy chest a beautiful sight to his son. “Follow me.”
Obediently, Braden did. Back down the hall to the master bedroom, where Charlie led him to the walk-in closet. The dad flipped on the switch and the son’s heart pounded as he saw all of his father’s suits and trousers neatly lined up, next to shelves where shirts and jeans were neatly stacked.
“We’re not the same size,” Charlie said, eying Braden up and down, “but close enough.”
Now 19 and a rising sophomore, Braden’s time rowing on the lacrosse team had developed his upper body quite nicely, with a broad, muscular chest and powerful arms, and his teen growth spurt had run its course, making him within a millimeter of his dad’s 6’1″ stature. Even if he was a chest size smaller than the senior McConnell, he felt like he was getting closer to being his old man’s equal. Not quite, but closer.
The father grabbed a couple of khakis, a pair of jeans, and a few beat up button downs. “See if any of these fit you. I don’t wear ’em much any more. ” Seeing his son’s excitement warmed Charlie’s heart. “You like?” he asked.
Braden looked up, a beaming smile on his face. “Oh yeah, Dad. It’s incredible. Thanks.”
The two met in an affectionate kiss. Charlie thought he’d never get tired of kissing his son.
Eagerly, Braden shimmied out of the pajama bottoms and stepped into a pair of khakis. They were from several years ago, before Charlie’s divorce and they fit all right. Not perfect but they didn’t droop on the waist. With a belt they’d do. The oxford shirt fit better, the striped fabric billowy on Braden’s fit frame but the shoulders, neck and arm length were perfect.
“Wow,” the teen exclaimed as he looked at himself in the full-length closer mirror.
His dad got a thrill at seeing his son like this. “If you like,” he added, “You can pick out something else to keep. Whatever you like.”
Braden looked around and practically hyperventilated. It was all so perfect. Dad’s clothes lined up, and he had a hard time choosing.
Charlie’s hand clasped his shoulder. “Better yet, this summer, wear my clothes anytime you like. At the end of summer you can pick what to take back with you.”
“Yessir,” Braden beamed as their lips met once more.
He looked around and reached up and touched his father’s blue blazer. The one he’d wear to church growing up. His dick got hard, real hard, as his fingers caressed the fabric. “Can I just try it on?”
Charlie nodded. Damn, the coat fit Brade better than it did him. He really should get in shape, he decided, if he wanted this old clothes to fit him properly.
Braden was clearly throwing hard in the khakis as he examined his reflection. He knew it was wrong to ask for anything more than this. Dad’s generous gift, his understanding, this moment of connection. But he did.
“Dad…. can you put on some stuff?”
The request took Charlie aback. “What stuff?”
Braden looked around the closet and pulled out a dress shirt, a newer button-down to match the one he had on. He looked at his father for permission and the older man nodded.
Gingerly, the son took the shirt off the hanger and held it up for Charlie to put his arms through it. To the father it was a weird game, fun and enjoyable but almost like a little boy’s game of playing dress-up. Not erotic. But Braden was clearly excited beyond belief, practically hyperventilating as he carefully buttoned each button of the shirt, taking time to run his fingers beneath the fabric and feel the hairy warmth of his father’ chest. When he got to the top button he did that one, too, and flipped the collar up.
Charlie watched in rapt attention as Braden filed through the man’s tie collection, finding the perfect striped one to put on. Trying a tie backward wasn’t easy, but it was like Braden had plenty of practice. He’d have to ask his son about that. Another time.
His son was so handsome in the blazer, Charlie thought. He leaned forward and kissed Braden and felt the hunger as the kid practically swallowed his dad’s tongue deep into his mouth.
“Thanks for doing this Dad,” Braden finally said softly, half-ashamed.
“Hey,” Charlie responded. “You played out my fantasy, least I can do is play out yours. Huh, kiddo?’
Braden’s face brightened and he nodded. He reached over and flipped through his dad’s suits and sport coats, pulling out a checked coat. He was careful, almost worshipful with the coat as he pulled it off the hanger. “Take off the bottoms dad,” he pleaded.
Charlie removed the pyjamas and had to admit he had a boner now. Again, so soon.
Braden stared at his father’s cock, glad to see it come back to life. Then he gestured to the coat as he held it up. God, his dad was the handsomest man in the world, Braden thought as he put on the coat. Looking like he was dressed for an important meeting at work. From the waist up that is.
“Braden,” Charlie ventured, thinking he knew what his son was wanting. “You wanna do it, dressed like this?”
Jackpot. Braden’s eyes widened. “Oh God, Dad. Hell yeah.”
The father grinned. “Face the mirror.”
Once more Braden was face to face with his own reflection and his father behind him. His dad was the same height but with some extra muscle and bulk. Maybe with the right conditioning and diet he’d be able to catch up with his old man. “I like dressing like you, Dad,” he said plainly, remembering his father’s instruction not to be ashamed of his desires. “I want to be like you. In every way. It would be an honor.”
Charlie’s arms wrapped lovingly around Braden’s midsection, exploring the 19-year-old muscle, dressed like a full-grown adult now. He didn’t want to break the mood, but a question had been bugging him all day, all month, all winter and spring.
“You been with anyone son?”
Braden nodded. “My chemistry professor.” Then, apologetically, he explained. “You told me to, Dad, try other guys. Mostly I pretended he was you.”
Charlie felt he should lecture his son about sleeping with his professors. But Braden was clearly swimming in hormones. Besides, they was no denying the kid was fixated on his dad. Looking for a substitute.
Charlie understood. He used to think men weren’t meant for monogamy, that they were genetically programmed to fool around. That’s what had led to his divorce and had been the source of a string of adulterous affairs during his marriage. But now, it was different. He had a stash of naked photos of Braden as well as a few sex vids they’d shot of themselves. For Charlie, they were his sole jackoff material now.
“Did he fuck you son?” It was a nasty thing to ask, but Charlie had to know.
Braden’s voice was soft and deep. “No sir. I’ve never been…”
The idea that his son was cherry made Charlie’s heart pound. “I wanna Brade. I wanna fuck you.” His hands reached lower to rub the hard mound in the dad khakis his son was wearing. “If you’re up for letting your daddy inside you.”
“Please sir,” Braden croaked, nervous as hell but wanting it, almost as badly as his father wanted to violate his virgin ass.
“Oh, son,” Charlie muttered, giving a soft kiss to Braden’s neck before crouching down. He undid the khakis and shoved them down. Before him was a muscular bubble butt, so different from his own middle-aged ass. Mostly smooth with a dusting of fine hair on the bottom of the rump and deep in the boy’s crack. Charlie sucked in the clean, fresh scent and leaned forward.
They’d rimmed before, but over the nine months absence, Charlie had somehow gotten better at. He’d watched countless porn scenes for inspiration, even done some internet searches for how-to guides for taking a man’s virginity. He wanted it to be perfect for his Brade.
The feelings were intense for Braden, but so was the view. Both McConnells in jackets and dress shirts, his masculine father crouching behind him, eating him out, making him feel sensations a father shouldn’t give to his son. Braden’s cock jerked excitedly, dripping pre-fuck juice all over the closet floor as his hands steadied his weight in a half-bent position on his thick quads.
It took some work, but Charlie had Braden’s hole relaxing. Now fluttering open for his Dad’s teasing, drilling tongue. It was time.
“Hold still,” his father gave a gentle command as he stood up and walked to the bedroom. He came back with the Crisco. Unlike with the frotting before he used just a dollop on Braden’s pucker. He wanted to make sure his boy was lubricated enough, but he selfishly wanted plenty of friction on his cock still.
The son groaned as the father pushed the first finger inside. It felt intrusive but amazing.
“So fucking tight,” Charlie growled, excited more than he should be by his son’s virginity. He pushed the finger in again, in and out, letting the grease cover Braden’s hole inside and out. “Ready for another, Brade?”
“Yessir.” Braden was slowly getting past the nervousness and toward excitement. A second of his father’s thick fingers entered him, skewering the hole side to side as it entered. “Fuck!” he growled.
“Too much?” Charlie was concerned.
“No, sir. Add a third,” he asked bravely. Charlie removed his fingers momentarily. This hole needed just a little more Crisco. He scooped up a pea-sized bit on his ring finger and positioned back at Braden’s hole. Three fingers now pushed in, and Charlie watched in horniness as he saw the pristine ass ring stretch around the invaders, which together were about the girth of his cock. As Braden finally relaxed and accepted the three fingers, the dad knew he was ready.
He smeared a light coating of grease on his daddy dick, which was now hard as nails. He didn’t even have to guide the cock with his hands, it stood upright so perfectly. He just lowered his hips a little to nudge the head against the virginal hole. He knew not to shove with too much force but expected he’d have to provide some power to actually breach his son’s tightness.
So he held Braden’s hips steady and push forward. “This may sting son, but your dad loves you.”
Indeed the cock gave a jabbing pain as it penetrated Braden’s tightness. The son bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut. He trusted his dad and knew the discomfort would go away. It was just something he’d happily bear for his father. And after the first deflowering Braden knew the other times with his Dad would go better. He’d get used to this.
Charlie held steady, his cock excited and pulsing inside its tight new home, but his fatherly concern filling his brain. He hoped he’d not gone too hard or too fast in deflowering Braden. As it was, only about an inch and a half was buried inside his son.
The man held steady for a couple of minutes and slowly felt the tension abide in Braden’s rectum. He pushed in, more, slowly at first, and soon feeling no resistance buried his fatherly cock all the way inside.
“God, that feels great Dad.” Braden was surprised the pain had gone to pleasure so quickly. He didn’t expect it to happen at all this first time. But he was keyed up for his father and the idea that his perfect man was buried all the way inside him thrilled him.
The words were music to Charlie’s ears. “Yeah, son? You like that? Daddy’s cock buried deep in ya?”
“Fuck yeah, Dad. Fuck my cherry hole.”
Charlie couldn’t help it. He pulled back and slammed right in. And again. Braden let out a loud Ooof! but in his newly aroused stated got off on the rough penetration. “Oh yeah, you saved that cherry for Daddy, didn’t ya boy? Saved it for this very moment. UGH! UGH! UGH!” He power thrusted deep into Braden’s bowels. Raw bare fuck, skin on skin. This was the closest Charlie could ever imagine being with his son.
Braden was very glad at that moment he’d refused his professor’s request to do this. His professor was hot, but no way could he have lived up to the fuck he was getting right now. He had to steady himself on the wall in front of him, Dad was pounding in so hard, but it was incredible. He watched his daddy fuck him, not quite brutal but definitely hard.
The sensations were getting him closer to orgasm but he didn’t dare touch his cock yet. He wanted to see his Dad get off first.
Charlie did. “I’m not gonna last long in ya, boy. Too fucking tight,” the man huffed as he fucked away, clearly eager to get his gun.
“Do it, Dad,” Braden urged. “Come in me.”
That did it. “Oh fuck!” Charlie growled as he slammed his hips forward and unloaded what felt like a two-week load into his son but was actually his second ejaculation of the night. Still, he knew it was a copious cum, as his thrusts slowed to a gentle pace and he reached around and grabbed Braden’s hard cock.
His son took in a deep intake of breath, excited to feel his father’s fingers wrap around his pole, all the while his dad’s dick and cum were still buried in his ass. Braden’s eyes fluttered into the back of his head and his breaths got short and very quickly he was splattering the full length mirror with his son seed, a testament to a successful deflowering.
“You OK, Brade?” Charlie asked in concern as they untangled. The man wiped the gook off his hands before removing his sport coat, tie, and shirt.
“Oh, yeah, Dad,” Braden beamed. “It was perfect.” He stretched out his legs, shaking them to get the full circulation back. “I thought I was gonna have to tough it out to make you happy, but that was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.”
Charlie smiled. “I’m glad to hear. But I don’t like the idea of you toughing anything out just for my sake.”
The two took turns showering up. Charlie thought of joining Braden underneath the hot water spray, but decided his cock couldn’t take any more stimulation for the evening.
The two McConnells had forged such an intimate connection that evening, with the hot frot sessio, Braden’s confession, the men’s clothing play, their first time fucking. As they toweled off, eyes taking in their similar looks but different builds, Charlie thought of relenting on his rule.
Braden wished he would, but Charlie winced and said, “you know our rule.”
The son understood. There were only three rules his dad had laid down when they first started fooling around. Braden could say no and stop it at any time. They couldn’t tell a soul. And the two slept in their own beds. Always. “No matter what we do, what kind of fun we have between us,” Charlie had explained. “I’m your father and you’re my son. We gotta keep that boundary.”
“Yessir,” the 19 year old now answered. “See you tomorrow, Dad.”
Charlie was proud of his boy. For taking the fuck they just had like a man, but also for respecting his dad’s wishes. Only now he had more than a little regret as he saw his son’s built body saunter out into the hall, heading toward his own room.
* * *
Charlie had been serious in his offer to let Braden wear his clothes that summer, but he was surprised that his son never seemed to wear his own any more. Every day he’d come home from work and find Braden wearing Charlie’s khaki shorts and polo shirt, or a pair of Charlie’s gym shorts and a beat-up T-shirt from one of his corporate races. Or just a pair of his dad’s jeans and no shirt.
At first it bugged Charlie, like he was indulging something in Braden he shouldn’t. If he’d known how obsessive the kid was maybe he would have given it a second thought.
“Wearing my favorite shirt again, kiddo?” he joked nervously one evening as he lay down in his easy chair and joined Braden in watching a baseball game.
Braden picked up on his dad’s discomfort. “That bother you Dad? You said I could, but if you’re rather not…”
“It’s fine, son,” Charlie replied, trying to convince himself.
Thing was, after a couple of weeks, he got used to it. And he had to admit, he loved the way it kept Braden boned up. If Charlie was getting used to seeing Braden dress up as Daddy, his son never seemed to tire of the thrill of putting on his dad’s clothes. He’d walk around all day, boned and leaking and eagerly awaited his dad’s return home.
Best were the weekends when they had more time to spend together. Charlie had made it his summer goal to improve his golf game, and each weekend father and son had a standing tee time at Charlie’s club. They dressed alike, Braden in one of Charlie’s older golf shirts, while Braden convinced his father to buy a few of the trimmer golf shirts that were in fashion.
“I don’t know that I have the body to pull this off,” Charlie objected, feeling the dadbod padding puff out a little against the snugness of the shirt.
“You look real hot in it Dad. Honest.” Braden’s sincere lust for his father could be overwhelming at times. It certainly was persuasive. Charlie bought three of those shirts, in different colors.
It was early July before Charlie noticed it, the changes in Braden’s body were so gradual. But they were playing the back nine on a Saturday morning and he was watching Braden’s body in admiration. He wasn’t as good a golfer as his daddy but with his youth and athleticism he powered one hell of a drive. Charlie watched his son’s muscular body contort through the swing, almost perfect in form now. Then it hit him.
“Right in the fairway, Dad,” Braden beamed, “Better watch out or I might beat you today.”
Charlie’s mind was elsewhere. “You’ve put on weight,” he said matter-of-factly.
Braden nodded. He was wondering when his dad would notice. “Yessir. I’m only 11 pounds away from your size, Dad.”
Charlie had thought he’d felt some extra bulk when he’d fucked Braden lately. But surprisingly they’d been having sex partially or fully clothed more and more, the father indulging his son’s clothing kink and learning to like it himself. “How…?” he started to ask.
“Weight lifting and a hell of a lot of peanut butter shakes,” Braden replied, proud of his achievement. “I figure by the end of the summer I’ll have your body.”
Charlie picked up his golf bag and was a little quiet. “You sure that’s what you want son?” The idea that Braden would mess up his perfect young jock body bothered Charlie.
“You know it is, Dad. I know you probably like me trimmer, but you also told me not to be ashamed to go after what I want.”
“I did,” Charlie answered thoughtfully. “I mean it, too. But maybe…. well, I could meet you half way. I’ve been meaning to lose the love handles.” Braden followed him, as they walked on to the fairway where their balls lay. “I could lose some weight, buy us both some new clothes, whaddya think?”
“Sounds awesome Dad,” Braden chipped in. “And I can get some of your old ones taken in.”
Charlie couldn’t believe he’d assented to such a perverted plan but the minute he got home, his hands were on Braden, peeling off his/their golf shirt. “Not in our clothes today, son, I want to feel your new body against mine.”
Braden’s mouth on his showed his assent to the idea. They hadn’t used those wrestling mats since that first day Braden was home, but Charlie pulled them out once more and the two rolled around, naked and giggling like newlyweds. Braden was excited his father hadn’t scolded him for bulking up, and Charlie was thrilled to discover his son’s body anew. Particularly when he pulled out the Crisco and started greasing up the beefier muscle.
The father had learned some trigger control over the summer and their frot session this time was a good solid twenty minutes of writhing, titillating, and making out before they spewed against each other’s greasy bodies, their second simultaneous orgasm together.
Braden thought they were going to shower up and didn’t want to let go of the body contact. He was thrilled when his father didn’t seem to be in a rush to stop. In fact, Charlie soon worked up another erection and was bucking against his son’s ever hard prick. They were going for round two.
“You get on top, Brade.”
His son did and started humping excitedly into his father. It felt incredible, dick on dick stimulation and the closeness with this man. He knew what would feel better though and scooted up to straddle his dad.
“Oh yeah,” Charlie sighed as his greasy hard dad prick entered his son’s hole. As much as Braden loved the dress-up play, Charlie realized he still preferred this, seeing Braden’s beautiful nude body as he thrust up deep and lovingly inside his baby boy. His perfect Braden.
* * *
Braden was happy as a clam. A hot summer night in the baseball park as he and his Dad took in a Royals-Tigers game.
They sat side by side, father and son, in identical clothing. Flat front khaki shorts, bright blue Royals T and matching cap, suburban-dad athletic sneakers. In a ballpark of men with similar clothing they weren’t out of place but it was uncanny how much the McConnells looked alike.
Braden had beefed up while Charlie had slimmed down. Father and son’s body looked just the same in their trim T-shirts, the shoulder muscle bulging, the chest showing prominently and just a little roll of padding in their midsection as they sat in the bleacher seats. Braden’s legs weren’t as hairy as Charlie’s and his muscle showed more mass in his thighs but otherwise their furry legs were on display side by side and Charlie couldn’t help be struck by the similarity.
He’d bought his son a beer, confident no one would suspect Brade of being 19. “Want another?” He asked his son after the fourth inning. “I feel I can let loose a little tonight, you know, celebrate.” Giving up beer had been the hardest part of Charlie’s crash diet particularly in the sweltering summer months. But that morning the two men weighed exactly the same on the scale, for the first time ever.
“Yeah, Dad,” Braden replied, “Sounds awesome.”
While they watched the game, his father had a question on his mind. “When you go back to school, you gonna keep the weight on?”
Braden got a wistful look on his face. “The muscle, yes, but coach is gonna make me condition before the season.”
“It’ll probably be good to get back to your college life, Brade,” Charlie said thoughtfully, “but I’m glad you’re having fun this summer.”
Braden looked at his dad. “You kidding? It’s been the best summer ever. Really. Beyond my dreams.” He had to be circumspect at what he said in public, but no one would know what they were talking about.
“My home is your home, Brade,” Charlie said, patting his son’s thigh. “I hope you’ll come back next summer.”
“You know I will,” he said quietly. And leaning to whisper in his father’s ear. “I’ll miss you at school dad. Something bad.”
“Me, too,” Charlie croaked before taking a sip of beer.
* * *
The Royals won, but that wasn’t what was on their mind. Their talk on the drive home was lurid and sexual.
“Tell me, what do you want to do most when we get back to the house,” Charlie said in a soft, low growl.
“Kiss you, Dad,” the college student breathed. “Then have you inside me.”
“Yeah?” The father’s cock throbbed so much it ached in his shorts crotch.
“Yes, sir. I just want you to turn me around and drop my shorts and shove into me.” He clenched his ass cheeks in the car seat. “I… um, lubed up before.”
“You’re learning how to take your daddy’s dick, huh?” Hard to believe that Braden was a virgin just 2 and a half months ago.
“Yessir, it’s like I become you when you’re inside me, sir.”
“Fuck, Brade, you look just like me sometimes. Tonight, especially. I bet everyone thought we were brothers.”
“Yeah?” Braden grabbed his crotch and squeeze it. He knew it would be a long lonely nine months at school.
They each had massive erections as they walked from the car to the front door. Charlie was glad Braden had instructed him to take him right away. He didn’t know if he could wait. He pinned his son to the wall of the entry hallway and gripped Braden’s wrists as he kissed the young man possessively.
“Fuck me, Dad,” Braden growled and was rewarded by Charlie’s rough grip to spin him around, pressing him against the wall. The father’s hands fumbled with the shorts, harder to undo now that Braden’s erection poked up obscenely in them. But sure enough, he peeled them down, along with his son’s briefs, then managed to unzip and free his own raging, erect prick.
“Goddamn it, son,” Charlie grunted as his dad cock entered his boy’s tight hole. “Your daddy’s horny tonight.”
“Your son is, too, sir.” Braden muttered, bucking his ass against the penetrating penis. “You made me in your image.”
The words fueled Charlie’s fire. “Fuck, I did, didn’t I?” He wrapped his arms around Braden, relishing the new bulk, the body so much like his own, as the two identically dressed men fucked in the hallway. “God, Brade, you look just like me now.”
“Oh Dad, Fuck!” Braden cried both at the thrusting dad cock inside him and the emotional headfuck of the moment. “I’m your man, Dad. Gonna be like you in every way, sir.”
Charlie’s pace got heavier and faster. He’d been thinking of this all nine fucking innings at the ballpark. Then the next words just came out. “It’s like I’m fucking myself.”
“You are, sir. Dad…” Braden started. Never be ashamed of your desires, right? he ventured. “Call me Charlie.”
That threw the father off guard, but he still fucked in, enjoying the sensations of his son’s hole. “What?”
“Call me Charlie. Just do it.” His son had never bossed his dad around or dared issued an order, but he was so horned up Braden just said it in an urgent bark.
“Charlie,” the word formed on the father’s lip. Foreign at first, but soon it flipped a part of his psyche. “I’m fucking you Charlie.” Then again. “I’m fucking your hot tight ass, Charlie.”
“Yeah, Charlie,” Braden cried. “Fuck yourself. You’re gonna make yourself come with your big fucking dick.” His young body was going wild now, humping back against the fuck almost as hard as his dad was slamming into him.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Charlie, slutting out for yourself. You’re gonna make daddy come, Charlie,” he slammed his body tighter against his son’s as semen spurted out of father and son’s dicks at the same time.
Charlie was lightheaded as he pulled back and Braden was nervous as fuck at what his dad’s reaction would be to the ultimate kink he’d shared. But his father’s lips on his were a reassuring balm, as the man guided Braden back with him to the bedroom, each kicking the shorts off as they walked together, hand in hand, Royals shirts and caps still on nearly identical bodies. Breaking one of the three rules.
“You’re sleeping with me tonight Charles,” the father said, his hands on the son’s shoulder, guiding him into the master bedroom first. He was unwilling to relinquish his rechristened son’s new identical name. “I’ll move your stuff in here tomorrow.”