Pleasuring Papa

Vincent Simone sank his thick 8-inch cock deep into the ass of his client and shot his load in his condom. The client, a chubby balding businessman around 60 years old, untensed, sighed with satisfaction and reached a hand back to stroke Vincent's balls in gratitude. Vincent withdrew, cleaned himself up in the bathroom then dressed. He accepted the £200 the still naked client gave him, gave his balls and dick a final friendly squeeze, then made his way out of the hotel room. As he opened the door the client called softly "see you again next month?"

Vincent mouthed a kiss and murmured "of course darling", then made his way to the lift. On leaving the building he grinned to himself as two teenage girls very obviously checked him out and whispered to each other, giggling. Slim and good looking with thick curly black hair, playful eyes, a prominent nose and a firm jaw, he loved playing up to the Italian stallion cliché, favouring tight chinos and silk shirts cut almost to the waist, revealing his muscular lightly haired chest or, as today, skin-tight T-shirts which emphasised his powerful shoulders and biceps. Now he had to get back to his apartment and change, before travelling to Bedford for a duty dinner engagement with his family.

They knew he was gay of course; there hadn't seemed much point in denying it after his mother had caught him naked in bed at 18 going head to tail with his best friend. That had been seven years ago, but only his sister, Sofia, knew that since the age of 20 he had been working as a professional stud in London. He had a few female clients of course, but it was still a cute male ass that really floated his boat. He loved fucking married men, especially first-timers, knowing he gave them a pleasure that their wives couldn't match, or even understand, watching them go down on him for the first time, and being told by them that he was a more skilful cocksucker than any woman they'd ever been with.

The evening was going to be awkward. His parents, the conservative offspring of Italian immigrants, always felt stiff and uncomfortable around him -- he hoped his mama wouldn't cry again. Sofia was fine of course, and had even been known to suck the odd cock for a small consideration herself, on a purely amateur basis. There was nothing amateur about Vincent though: he was bloody good at what he did, and was able to command premium fees as a result. He had standards too: he knew at least two of his regulars were prominent public figures, and he could probably earn a pretty penny from selling them out to the press, but integrity and discretion were his bywords.

Dinner actually went okay -- mama was in a cheerful mood, and did a beautiful chicken cacciatore. Papa was his usual taciturn self though, and despite the generally happy family setting Vincent found it difficult to relax throughout the evening. After coffee they watched TV for a while then, as mama and Sofia excused themselves to go to bed, Vincent went to the conservatory at the back of the house for a ciggy. His folks didn't like him smoking anywhere in the house but sod them, he only had about five a week, and he needed one tonight to relax before bedtime.

He was about to light up when, to his irritation, papa appeared from nowhere, forcing Vincent to hurriedly stuff his fags in his pocket. Vincent was sitting on the old sofa which dominated the conservatory, and it surprised him slightly when his father sat down right beside him, rather than in the comfy wicker chair opposite. In fact, it surprised Vincent that papa had chosen to be alone with him at all, and for a moment he wondered if he was about to hear some terrible news about his mother's health or something.

Staring straight ahead, towards the blackness of the garden, papa said "I know you think I despise you Vince. I don't, you're my son and I love you. I often think about you. I just don't understand this...strange attraction a man can feel towards other men. Where it comes from." Vincent was quite taken aback - papa had hardly ever said a word to him before about his sexuality, and certainly not in such frank terms. But before he could try and form an answer his father added, "I want you to make me really understand what sex between two men is all about."

Whether it was just the words, or something in papa's tone, Vincent felt his gaydar needle twitch. He had always admired papa - a big man, well over six feet tall, and even better looking in his younger days than Vincent; in his mid-50s he retained much of that attraction. During his teens Vincent had developed quite a crush on papa, and had evolved a few fantasies about him that no right-thinking son ought to entertain towards a parent! The wickedest of thoughts entered Vincent's mind: his moral code allowed for no sexual boundaries between consenting adults - but surely his usually sound instincts must have misread the situation this time?

Watching his father's face intently, Vincent began, "Well papa, I'm sure you'll accept that it's entirely reasonable for a man to recognise that another guy's attractive. Paolo Maldino, for example." Vincent thought the former Milan and Italy captain was one of the most beautiful men on the planet, and knew his father greatly admired him. "And a lot of men are much more beautiful than many women, especially without their make-up. As for the sex aspect, it's not so much about what bits two people have got as about them giving each other pleasure."

Vincent realised that, without intending it to, his voice had slipped into the soft seductive tones he used when enticing clients. Papa licked his lips nervously. Some sixth sense caused Vincent to glance down at his father's crotch, and he was astonished to see it resembled a circus tent, with a tall, stiff pole supporting it! Vincent shifted closer to papa, until his mouth was inches from the older man's cheek, his breath brushing it as he spoke. Acting entirely on instinct, he casually dropped his hand to papa's groin; he was ready for papa to express annoyance, or knock the hand away, but his father simply ignored it, pretending nothing had happened. The cock felt painfully stiff through papa's trousers, and Vincent's own dick leapt to attention with the realisation that, incredibly, he might be about to fulfil his darkest desire.

Vincent continued, his every word a caress. "Men's bodies are beautiful, and the penis is the most beautiful part of all. A magical wand of desire; the feeling of another man's hand stroking your erection is ecstasy, and the joy of a talented mouth engulfing your cock, sucking it, a tongue worshipping it, is the most intense sexual pleasure it's possible to achieve." Vincent stroked his thumb gently along the outline of his father's erection; it twitched like a wild animal, and papa gave a small gasp and shuddered. His lips now almost touching papa's cheek, Vincent whispered, "How long is it since mama sucked your cock papa? Can you imagine how it would feel to have an experienced pair of lips caress it, and a skilled tongue slide along its length, and stroke your balls?"

Still papa said nothing, his eyes gazing into nothingness. Vincent's own eyes locked on papa's, with both hands he unbelted the man's trousers, unzipped the fly, pulled the trousers open and eased papa's underpants away from his big straining dick. As Vincent dropped to his knees, his mouth dry with nervous anticipation, papa finally regarded him, a look of panic on his face. But instead of saying what was about to happen was wrong, as might have been expected, he simply mumbled, "Vince, your mother..."

"Is in bed, upstairs, asleep," Vincent finished the sentence as he closed his lips around the tip of his father's cock. As he slid his mouth down the stiff dick, papa groaned with arousal and his eyes fluttered closed. His cock was huge, the tip pressing against the roof of Vincent's mouth. When Vincent stretched out his long tongue, and stroked it across papa's scrotum, he was rewarded with a whimper of pleasure. Papa reached back and stretched his arms along the back of the sofa, gripping it tightly with his fingers.

As he sucked, still not quite believing he wasn't having some especially vivid dream, Vincent tugged gently at the loose trousers. Without a moment's hesitation papa lifted his backside to help, and his son-lover slipped them and his underpants together down to his ankles, giving him better access to his father's cock and balls. Vincent slipped a hand around papa's balls, caressing them with his fingertips, extending one to tickle the perineum, while his tongue slipped teasingly up the underside of papa's cock. His father shuffled his bottom forward on the couch, as if trying to push his prick even deeper into the mouth which was sucking it towards paradise. Vincent found himself so turned on by this bizarre and unexpected sensual experience that with his spare hand he fumbled his own fly open and began to play with himself.

After a couple of minutes of licking and sucking, papa groaned "I'm about to cum". In response Vincent increased the pressure of his lips around the inflamed cock and flicked his tongue across the very tip, which he knew would intensify the sensations he was providing. At last papa gave a deep growl and his hips thrust at Vincent, lifting his ass right off the sofa as he shot forcibly into his son's mouth. Vincent swirled papa's rich jizz around his mouth, savouring the taste, resting his forehead on an exposed knee.

Papa sank back into the sofa, a glazed look on his face. Vincent, though, was far from finished with him. Quickly dropping his own trousers and briefs, he knelt astride his father's lap and manoeuvred his own engorged cock towards papa's mouth. He half-expected papa to hesitate in taking an active role, but he seemed almost hungry for Vincent's cock as he dipped his head forward and admitted it to his mouth. Vincent felt almost faint with excitement: not only was the man sucking his prick -- and squeezing his balls -- his own father, who he had always thought to be as straight as an arrow; but it was happening just yards from where Vincent's mother and sister were sleeping, with the very real danger that at any moment either of them could walk in and find their menfolk in flagrante delicto. The sheer danger and wickedness of the act combined to make it the most erotic encounter of Vincent's entire life.

Papa began slowly but soon warmed to his task, raking Vincent's cock with his tongue and even caressing one of his son's exposed buttocks with his free hand. Vincent knew it would take only a few minutes of this before he climaxed in papa's mouth; but he felt a deep craving to claim the ultimate prize. Disengaging himself from his warm wet haven, he pulled papa gently to his knees before the sofa, his arms resting on it. Understanding what his seducer intended, papa showed some reluctance to take this final step, mumbling "Vince, I'm not sure..."

Vincent pulled from his back pocket the lube sachet and condom he always carried in case of unexpected opportunities and, stroking his father's hair, whispered, "Sshhh, it'll be fine my love, I'll be gentle and you'll love it." Before papa could reply Vincent tore open the lube and, coating two fingers with it, spread it liberally around and inside his lover's ass, causing papa to moan with anticipation. Then, slipping on the condom, Vincent gripped papa's buttocks and, pulling them wide apart, slipped the first two inches of his meaty cock between them. See-sawing lightly back and forth he applied his lips and tongue to papa's throat and whispered "There honey, how does that feel?"

Papa swallowed and murmured "It feels good...I like it." A broad smile spreading across his face, Vincent eased forward little by little until his full 8 inches was buried inside, stretching the older man's love channel. Nuzzling papa's throat again, Vincent gripped his hips and began to fuck him, slowly at first but gradually increasing his pace. Papa grunted with each full penetration and soon Vincent was screwing him hard and fast, his balls slapping against the receptive ass with each thrust. It was wonderfully tight, and all too soon Vincent came with a mighty final push, producing a loud groan from papa as he felt the eruption inside him.

Appreciating that every moment of hesitation increased their risk, Vincent rinsed most of the lube from papa's cave then the two men dressed quickly. But as they embraced, tears of happiness forming in papa's eye, Vincent kissed him deeply, slipped his hand down papa's trousers and stroked his cock, and resolved that at the earliest opportunity he would arrange to be really alone with his new lover and enjoy this dangerous liaison to the full.