Nearly Identical

Join Remy and his boy as they depart
on a sensual voyage of discovery

We respected each other. I had 'Silk Stockings' turned down, lay spawled on the bed, day dreaming about -- well it wasn't Mimi. He had some slasher thing playing in the living room, with the sound low enough it didn't make me jump every time someone screamed. He'd spent his usual hour and a half in the bathroom and lay stretched prone on the day bed, a hand inside the waist of his black boxers, scratching his balls or whatever.

Quite frequently any more I'd find him snuggled under a blanket on that day bed in the morning. For some reason he no longer liked being on his own in his basment room -- dragging up a sheet, pillow and some sort of cover and camping out right outside my door.

We still fought like cats and dogs, but made up quickly. The last few times, he apologized and hugged me. If he only knew what that did to me. Getting woozy over your own son. Damn, I didn't want to believe it. But it was happening. Shit. I even had a couple of wild fantasies, trying to keep quite, beating off with him just on the other side of the wall.

Just a week ago I had a real morning turn on. I'd headed across the living room toward the bathroom for my morning piss. My cock was bouncing hard and leading the way. Wasn't expecting him, but there he was. Blanket crumpled on the floor, sheet kicked to the side, an erection matching mine jutting out of his boxers. I was looking at me at twenty, and had to fight the urge to walk over there and . . . shit, I don't know what I would have done. Nothing happened. I bolted for the john and jacked off frantically with the shower running full blast. I had been tempted. So fucking tempted. This would have never happened if she'd stayed. But she walked out, left us alone. Left me to revert, and now I was wanting to put the moves on Joey. Damn her.

Sounds from the living room changed. He'd switched the CD player on. Had some soft rocking mood music playing. Along with the faint music I could swear I was hearing something else. I lowered the sound. Oh, damn. Right out there that little shit has beating his meat and really into it. I was positive. Those grunts. What could I do? What should I do? What I did was what I had to do. I lay there, listening to him and stroked right along. I held the headboard with one hand keeping the bed from rocking and squeaking. Somewhere along the way I wasn't listening anymore, just picturing him whapping and keeping pace. After a while the house was quiet. I wiped off the splattered cum with tissues from the bedside box, chucked them in soggy balls at the trash can beside the dresser. We slept.

Two nights later the same thing happened. Except, I was already horny, rubbing on myself, jiggling the bed. Trying my best to keep quiet, I suddenly realized there were matching sounds coming from the living room. It turned me on knowing what was happening. When the cum started gushing, I know I was muttering under my breath, lost in the feeling.

The third time I quit worrying about being quiet. We hadn't said a word to each other about what was going on. Not even an exchange of knowing looks. But, I knew he knew, and I was sure he knew I knew he knew. This time Joey was as vocal as I was. We both turned off our TV's after the news. Five minutes later we could hear each other smacking and grunting. The vocalization got pretty wild. Little panting cries and moans echoed between the rooms. Then there was Joey going 'Oh, yea! Oh, yea!' while I was splashing down on my heaving gut with a long low 'Ah-h-h-h'. But, when I yelled at him in the morning to wake up and start the coffee, we still pretended nothing was going on.

Monday night the next week I went to bed early. Joey was in the shower, a CD blaring. Suddenly it was quiet. The only sound was the local announcer telling me about the latest driveby incident. Joey stepped into the room, drying his hair, hanging heavy in a pair of bold striped boxers. Beautiful, damp, desirable. I was damn glad I was under the covers. This kind of reaction wasn't right.

"What you going to watch after, Dad?"

I'd opted for Jay, and said so. He asked if I minded if he joined me. Then unself-consciously he nudged me over and spread out on top of the sheet that coverd me, sticking his hand in his waist squeezing. His calf was lightly brushing on mine through the sheet. It was impossible to keep laying on my back. My body was reacting, blood pumping between my legs, lifting the sheet in an obscene display. Obscene when the guy that's giving you the boner just by lying down next to you all fresh smelling and damp is you own son. Shifting onto one side would be giving him my back, a form of rejection. I rolled over to face him. If he noticed my excitement he didn't say anything. But, he had changed from just griping himself.

Joey lay there eyes glued to the TV but I could see his cock swelling in his hand. The hand was inside his boxers but that boy's dick head was poking out of the fly. Without even glancing at me he brought his hand out and shifted his butt, shoving his boxers down, hooking the waistband under his balls. There he was, tall and proud. He reached between us, picked up the remote and lowered the sound to background level.

"You joining me tonight, Dad?" he asked, still not turning his head. "Come on, you old stud. Let's do it!" He gave a tug to that stiff young cock and then twitched his hips. "Let's see it. Always did wonder, did I inherit this monster from you?" He reached over and started pulling the sheet down. "Oh! Wow!" he exclaimed as he uncovered my privates and I rolled onto my back.

"I do believe you are my true son, Joey," I said as the two flag poles lifted side by side. A dumb statement that just didn't need to be made. After all, looking down our bodies at the dresser mirror we could both see four nearly identical cocks poking toward the ceiling. The difference. The skill of his pediatrician vs mine. A half head length foreskin vs none, nada, zip.

We lay there our shoulders rubbing, bare calf on bare calf. Starting to jack slowly we let the mood build. Joey's near hand snaked under my neck. I reached for him. Now we're hugging, whapping away faster and faster. Grunting together. Panting. He paused. I turned my head. He's looking at me now, with that look. I shuddered. This couldn't be happening. Icy chills darted up and down my spine. Hot flashes curled in and out of my ass.

Joey's hand moved from betwen his legs. He touched my groin. I jumped. A hot gush of air passed through my lips. We both grasped the strange but totally familiar cocks beside us. He was now doing me. I was doing him. Our eyes were still locked. His tongue traced across his upper lip. His tongue reached out. His head moved toward me. His arm tightened around my neck, inching our heads closer, still closer. That tongue lightly touched my lower lip. Joey broke the stare and closed his eyes. He opened his mouth and scooted closer. Our lips met. Our flesh was now touching, hot and sweaty all along our flanks, from under our arms to our thighs and down two straining legs.

I lost it. I ravaged that mouth with my tongue, pushing, shoving, darting in and out, reaching for his tonsils, scrubbing his teeth. He had started fighting back but soon relented. He lay there moaning, his neck tense, head trembling under my assault. Nothing slowed the steadily increasing stroking of his hand though. I was quivering, rubbing against him, matching him, tugging harder and faster on his young duplicate of my maleness.

"Ah-h-h-y! Gonna cum-m-m!" he cried through our tightly pressed lips. "A-o-o-o! Ey-y-e'm gonna c-u-u-u-m!" The cock in my hand grew rigid, as he cried out. His body tensed.

We both lifted our heads, propping up with the arms that had been hooked around our necks. "Oh, yea! Here it comes. Oh, yea! Yea!" I was hearing it and now getting to see it happen. He gushed. His steaming white cum punched into the air in a series of spurts. The first, seemingly a tentative test of the young mechanism, was followed by three quick bursts. Each of them bigger and shooting higher, bringing louder and louder cries from my son. Following that display drops welled up and dribbled down with each milking squeeze of my hand. Each time brought forth less and less, until he was dry but still heaving and moaning.

Through it all he hadn't missed a beat. His hand was still flailing, gripped hard on my throbbing cock. "Come on, you old stud. Shoot that wad," he gasped. He wiggled his rear, pistoning his cum lubed prong in my wet fingers as it lost its climactic hardness.

Joey lifted up beside me looking me up and down. He was stroking on my body having let me take over my own dick play. He leaned down and licked across my chest. I let out a yelp as his tongue scrubbed across an erect nipple. "Ah ha. You like that, Dad? How about this?" He centered his mouth and sucked in that nipple. His teeth pinched down lightly.

"G-g-g-g-g-a-a-a--ah! Harder!" I cried, totally into what was transpiring. No thought of who I was with. Just rushing pleasures taking me over. "Here!" I was twisting, turning, thrusting my chest up, first the left and then the right. "Faster, damn it. Harder!" I was writing with passion. My gut was rolling, on fire.

Where the hell had he learned all this? I didn't really want to know. I just wanted this to go on, and on, torturing and teasing through the night. It felt so fucking good. But, Joey was insisent on having me match his display. He urged me to cut loose, shoot my load, accenting each demand with a tweak of a nipple. It was all working. Tighter and tighter the contractions came squeezing my stomach down to press into my back. An invisible hammer was slamming against my balls, making me dizzy.

"A-a-a-a-a-a-g-g-g!" The cry welled up, wrenched from my gut. The tingling raced out of my ass, cum pumping, racing for release. Joey eased back to watch, a big smile on his face. With one hard thrust I arched. My body bowed from my shoulder blades to my heels, trembing. Thick and gooey my jism splurted out. A giant globby string of creamy whiteness squirmed its way into view. Lifting up a few inches it fell to dance and dangle from my fingers. Squished and smeared, it coated my cock. The little death's following quakes shook me. Two smaller, less volatile burst of cum shot forth. I lay panting. Joey rested his head on my heaving chest. He licked out of the side of his mouth, touching a tender nub in a nearly raw aurela. The touch sent shivers through me. His hand squeezed my thigh. I moaned. He answered, softly.

We used the sheet to wipe off. Joey followed me silently to the bathroom where, without any discussion, we shared a mutual shower. Stepping out we dried off, our eyes averted. When Joey reached for a second towl I moved against him and wrapped his still moist body in my arms. He was trembling. I was too. I kissed his cheek. A delayed reaction was setting in. Joey went stiff. He started to twist and turn nervously.

"Thanks, Joey. You didn't have to do that. But, thanks. Regardless, I love you. Maybe even more now." I was whispering in his ear, brushing my hands on his back and side. I could feel his body's trembling subside.

Joey gave a heavy sigh. He finally looked at me. His eyes were ready to overflow. "But, I did have to, Dad. I couldn't stop myself. I wanted to. Have wanted to for years. Wanted that . . . and more. Damn it, Dad. Do you understand?"

I hugged him, feeling his youthful virility stirring against me. I nodded, brushed my lips across his cheek. "So we both have been keeping secrets. Guess that shit stops as of now." Then I gave him an evil leer, and humped hard against his leg. "So, you wana fuck the ol' man?" I paused as his eyes grew wide. "Or do you want the ol' man to fuck the living shit out of you?"

Those few words shot an iron rod through Joey's ass into his cock. It sprung erect instantly, shoving hard against my thigh. His voice shuddered as he admitted he'd been creaming and dreaming about me riding his humpy butt. I let my hands move down to cup those soft nubile ass cheeks. The feel, the thought, the warmth of his body against mine all raised my temperature. My blood was pounding again, lifting my sex. We walked arm in arm back to the master bedroom -- our bedroom. Leading the way, eager to explore our new relationship, were those beautiful bobbing, nearly identical erections. Father and son, now lovers, we fell into a grunting, struggling embrace on the bed. Joey rolled under me. For the first time, the beginning of a new lifetime, I pulled him to me. We coupled. A long slow loving merger. My body fused to his. Blood meeting blood. It lasted all night. It hasn't stopped yet.