The Silver Fox and the Scruffy Hound Dog

My name's Ronnie Cooper. I met Jonathan in a movie theater. Not an XXX All Male house of porn. It was theater three of a six screen multiplex featuring the re-release of that Disney classic, 'The Fox and the Hound'. I'd spotted him before the lights went down. He'd spotted me too . He was on the aisle a row in front of the dead center midway back seat I had picked out and plopped into. Most of the crowd was family -- or wild packs of kids turned loose to torment the rest of us while the folk when shopping or otherwise relaxed with the kids off their hands.

He didn't look out of place. I expected a kid to come racing down the aisle with popcorn flying and settle down with his dad. But one didn't show up. A mom and her brood slid past him filling the five seats in from his on the aisle. We'd made eye contact a couple of time as the theater filled. When that bunch was squeezing in front of him he looked over at me again and shrugged, shaking his head. There was a pleading look on his face.

Well, he'd be someone to talk to. Clearly we had at least two things in common. We were both gay, I was sure. And we both were Disney fans. So, I grabbed my Milk Duds, my coat, my super size drink and started on my way, excusing myself, mashing a toe or two. I finally stood in the aisle astonished at my own boldness. This was not typical of me.

"Hey, dad, I'm sorry I missed you when you came in. Mam . . . Mam. . ." I got the attention of the lady with the four kids. "Can you shift one over. I want to sit with my father." Moving my attention back to the object of my tall tale I winked at him. "Didn't think you were going to make it, dad. Remember when we first saw this?" I wiggled my ass in his face as I sidestepped in front of him and took the now vacant seat next to his. I nodded my thanks to the lady down the row and sat.

"Yes I do," he replied playing along. "You need a haircut then, too. Seems nothing really ever changes. Where the hell did you dig up that shirt? Christ, son, have you no fashion sense? Aren't they paying you enough on that job of yours?" His eyes were twinkling. He was having a ball with this little pre-movie playlet of ours.

I had to agree. I was no prize that evening. Hadn't planned on seeing anyone I knew. Had on a frayed flannel shirt over a clean but raunchy looking tee with worn jeans and my slopping around jogging shoes. Also, I hadn't shaved for two days. Topping that off was wild wind tossed hair I hadn't even run my fingers through after hitting the lobby. It hit me that it was a wonder this fox in his Brooks Brother suit had looked at me more than once. But he had.

Now he was doing more than just looking. He patted me on my thigh. "Well, maybe your ol' dad will take you shopping for some going out clothes after the show. East Village Mall's open late tonight." He gave my thigh a friendly, fatherly, semi-erotic squeeze. Just then the lights dimmed. "Show time, sonny," he said as he leaned over to whisper in my ear and let that hand slide right only the fly of my jeans. "You need a shave, too. I want to thank you for rescuing me." That hand met with a tight lump of training denim. He gave me a quick squeeze and we settled back to watch the feature. Our arms rested side by side, warm. tingly through the flannel and gabardine. Our little fingers were touching, stroking, a small sensual by-play that went on throughout the heart warming adventures of Todd and Cooper.

It was as natural as anything I had ever done to walk out of that theater with Jonathan and end up in his bed. We hardly spoke on the drive across town to his house. What was there to say? Why me? I didn't dare ask that. I knew why him. He was the image I'd always had of the man I wanted to be with. An image I'd never met, built from my own father, a little Mel Gibson, a pinch of Dick Van Dyke: tall, handsome and silver haired. I'd always dreamed of a real fox of a man that could take me in hand, many ways -- especially the way Jonathan did the moment we stepped into his house.

"We're not going shopping?" I asked. The first thing I said since the movie ended and I commented on how much I loved it.

Jonathan slowly took off his suit coat, tossed it across the room onto the couch and shook his head. 'Maybe later, Ronnie. Maybe later. Oh my, what is this?" His hand was firmly gripping my crotch, massaging the hell out of my growing erection. "I think we have another feature on the bill. How about letting me get comfortable and you show me what you've got to offer your old man."

He was leering at me and with his other hand tugging on his tie. He turned down the lights, turned on the CD player, tugged off his shoes and stretched out on the couch, watching as I started stripping. There he lay, shirt open, rubbing the silver mist of hair on his chest with one hand while the other cupped the crotch of his pants. I threw the flannel shirt at his head. He ducked and winked. Somehow I didn't feel strange, moving back and forth, stretching and twisting to the music that throbbed and filled the room. It was right. It felt good.

I was horny as hell just watching the gleam in his eyes. I pulled that tee off over my head and let it fall. Kicked it at the couch. He caught it and buried his nose in it, closed his eyes, shivering sensually. His eyes popped open and he winked again. Dropping my tee shirt on the floor he nodded and licked his lips as I snaked the belt out of those jeans. I was shaking my hips to the music. I kicked out of my shoes. Leaving the waistband buttoned I lowered the zipper halfway. Sticking my hands in the front pockets I wiggled those jeans down. Gave the old man a hot bump and grind and threw him a kiss. He puckered his lips at me.

I stood swaying, legs spread. Running my hands up my thighs I brought them together to release that one button. Keeping a grip on the two sides of the fly I tugged them apart shooting the zipper all the way down. Now the bulging base of my cock was revealed. The rest of it was will captured behind the denim. A dark warm, wet spot appeared in the worn faded blue over my right leg and its pulsing companion, Mr. Dick.

I was into it now to the point little moans were welling up in the back of my throat. Jonathan had his pants open and his hand inside, bouncing around pulling on himself as he squirmed on the couch. I was sticking my tongue out at him, fucking it into the air, teasing. Still holding the waist of my jeans I slowly slid them down. Inch by inch my quivering boner cam into view. Then it sprung free, whapping my belly, springing back -- sprong! I danced right out of those jeans. Then I turned my back, bent down and watched between my legs as he drooled over the hot moon I shoved at him. Reaching down I pressed my cock into view, letting it jut out from under my winking ass hole.

Taking another quick peek I saw Jonathan standing, his shirt in one hand, his other hand still inside his pants. I stood up and turned around. His shirt fell, then his pants. Then we joined them. I ripped his boxers in my frenzy to get my daddy naked. We wrestled back and forth on the floor, banging into furniture, groping, kissing, licking. We were damn near evenly matched. If I'd wanted to I think I could have pinned him. Instead, I eased off. He held me down, tongue in one ear, his thighs squeezing on my hips, my arms pinned overhead.

"Think you're smart, letting the ol' man have his way with you?" he hissed in my ear. His body was scrubbing across mine, every hair tingling my bare skin. I squirmed in delight. "Think you're so damn smart, you scruffy excuse for a son." He nuzzled in on my neck, dived into an arm pit, jerked his head up.

"Damn, boy. You need a bath!" With that he got up, hauling me along with him and marched me down the hall into the bathroom and into the shower.

Hey, he was full of shit. I'd bathed before leaving for the movie. But, this was something he wanted to do. So, I wanted to do it to. He wet me down and lathered me up from my mop of unruly hair to my little pink toes. He worked first from behind --- poking my ass with his hot daddy prick, then knelt in front -- scrubbing down my aching cock, playing in the soap suds with my balls. We rinsed off. He had my skin all rosy from that vigorous rubdown to dry me off. Then he folded me in his arms in a bear hug. Our lips crushed together, tongues pushing, shoving, eagerly exploring in our mouths. I was trembling with desire. So ready I ached.

"So how about a fuck, sonny boy? Think you can make your new daddy happy? Just how educated is this luscious pair of buns?" I responded with a grunt as his hands gripped hard and pressed my into him.

We raced for the bedroom, one cock bobbing right after the other. Jonathan's preference was the missionary position, my legs splayed wide. He had us both rubbered and my ass dripping with lube in an instant. When I questioned the dual rubbers he made a comment about saving wear and tear on the bedding. So the ol' man's a neat freak. With that heavy tool headed for my ass hole I was willing to give in to quite a few idiosyncrasies. With that cock reaming my ass I was willing to let have his way for at least a year. Damn did that ol' man know how to fuck. He had moves I'd never met before. Swivels, twists, turns and dives that had me screaming for mercy and begging for more in the same breath.

This was what I'd dreamed about for years, longed for, humped my fist wishing I could find. I swear, somehow, he reached that dick of his up into me and poked through my lungs. I could feel it's head bobbing at the base of my throat. I was ready to heave, swallowing hard and tossing around under him in wild contortions.

"What's the matter, Ronnie? To much meat for the little boy to handle?" he said between clinched teeth, accenting his questions with wild jabs from his hips and a couple of low mean grunts.

I thrashed my head back and forth, groaning. "No, man. No!" I gasped out. "Don't stop. Oh, shit! I'm in heaven. Fuck me, daddy! Just FUCK ME!" I was pulling hard on my prick, reaching down and squeezing my balls, my ass on fire thrusting back against his pounding.

His body was slamming into mine, sending quakes rocking through me, bouncing my legs, jerking my head. He was plowing deep and wide. I was loving it, repeating my plea over and over. Suddenly Jonathan kicked into overdrive. Leaning up, grasping my ankles firmly, he jackhammered my butt hole. His mouth curled up at the sides. His eyes squinched shut. I was trembling. My gut was being churned into mush. A whine pulsed out of my mouth with ever smack against my rear.

I was cumming. My body jerking. My cock squirting not jism filling that rubbber's tip. My slobbery ass hole tried to grab hold of that pistoning rod. Jonathan just slammed his meat into my chute harder and faster. He'd felt my constrictions when they hit. Opening his eyes he watched me as the contortions of my orgasm twisted my face and the cum flew.

He kept pounding away. Sweat began to glisten on his shoulders, dripping through those silver curls on his chest. His mouth was pulled into an evil little sneer. His eyes were pinning me to the bed, daring me to protest as he continued. His grip on my ankles tightened. My dream was coming true. It was going to last all night.

On and on, Jonathan was a machine. The longer he thrashed between my legs the hotter the friction built. My love hole was burning. I was screaming for him to end it and praying he would never cum. Slowly, steadily the feel of him in me, the frantic beating, the insistent rubbing of his unrelenting hardness on my prostate, lifted me up again. My cock was trembling, surging and then pulse pounding hard again. I was a rag doll, my arms unable to move. But there was no need. I could feel the tiny prickles as my balls responded to the silent messages. The needle sharp stabs collected into a numbing ache. The fire of my raw ass hole expanded, traveling with his driving thrusts deep into my gut.

I was shuddering, my arm flailing. Only my legs, held tight, were tense and still. From deep within came an outpouring. A reservoir of juices that I had never released before turned loose. Jonathan was quivering, his cock vibrating deep inside me. Again he felt my body's constrictions and looked down, drooling. I erupted. Wave after wave of gut wrenching, ball smashing pleasure washed over me. My cum poured, gushed, ballooning that latex container. It expanded in an obscene milky bubble that made me appear grotesque. Jonathan was chuckling. He'd resumed his pumping. Now I did want it to be over. I ached from head to toe. My breath was catching in my throat, raspy, dry and ragged. I burned, from where his hot hands gripped my calves to the holes at both ends of my tortured body. Suddenly I was afraid. What was happening I could not understand. What I could not understand I feared. I moaned and looked up at my tormentor, tears welling in my eyes.

"Soon, sonny boy, soon," he hissed.

After five more minutes that seemed to stretch into hours, I drifted away. I could hear the slapping sound of our bodies, his grunting cries. But I wasn't there anymore. When he finally peaked, I didn't know, was beyond feeling, beyond caring, spent, exhausted, drained. He snuggled me in his arms. It was a cold embrace. I waited until he was snoring, that sly grin on his face. He looked so perfect. A dream that wasn't. I snuck into the living room, dressed, called a cab. As we pulled away I noticed the mailbox with Mickey waving. 'J. Todd' it proclaimed. I started laughing. Laughed and cried all the way home.

So he used me. Life is what it is. It sure isn't a Disney movie. Can't watch the video of that damn story without remembering. It now had meanings never intended. Memories. Dreams shattered.

Todd and Cooper frolic and my butt aches. It's automatic.