A gay story: Gerry Pt. 04 It was Thanksgiving as Gerry and I pulled into the driveway at my parent’s house, about a two hour drive from school. I was surprised Gerry agreed to come. He always liked to control the agenda, and the thought of two days at my parents, where he wouldn’t, seemed to make him nervous, but ultimately he said yes.
They were waiting to meet us, inside the front door. The house already smelled like pie and turkey and casseroles. It felt good to be home.
“There’s my boy,” my mom exclaimed, hugging me. “You feel so good. Have you been working out?”
Embarrassed, and finally able to break off the long hug, I said, “Gerry, these are my parents, Margaret and Lee. Mom, Dad, this is Gerry.” With the formal introductions behind us, my mom embraced Gerry with an equally affectionate hug. She’s a hugger, I had warned Gerry earlier. My dad, more stoic, shook Gerry’s hand, firmly, as men do. Through all this Gerry was a bit awkward, not his usual self, probably just nerves I figured.
“We’re so glad you could come,” my mom said to Gerry. “We’ve been looking forward to it.”
“That means she’s been cooking for days,” my dad chimed in. “Nobody leaves this house until all this food is gone.” He said with a laugh.
“Well, thanks for the invitation Mrs C and Mr C,” Gerry said. “I hope it’s OK if I call you that?”
“Oh certainly,” my mom said, in a dreamy sort of way. It seemed Gerry’s good looks, nice manners, and well built body were having an affect on her, much like they did on me.
My dad picked up the conversation from here. “Get your stuff boys. Gerry, we’re putting you in Aaron’s room since you’re our guest. Aaron, you get the couch in the basement.”
“Sure dad, no problem,” I replied. This often happened whenever an aunt or uncle came to town, so it wasn’t unexpected.
I led Gerry down the hall to my room, a typical teenage boy’s room, strangely frozen in time from when I first left for school three years ago. It had all the regular furniture – desk, dresser, twin bed, bookcase – plus a collection of things left over from my childhood, but not needed or important enough to take to my dorm room. Gerry treated it like a crime scene, carefully examining everything, old school and sport trophies, posters, books, toys and games, framed photos. Filing away the facts and images in his mind, trying to make sense of me and my past.
Gerry spent a long time looking at one photo in particular, a photo of me and my dad in baseball uniforms, holding a large trophy. I was ten and my dad was the coach that year. We won the league title. I could tell from Gerry’s expression that something was wrong.
“Aaron, I’m sorry, but I can’t stay here,” he said, almost with a panic in his voice.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I mean I can’t stay in this room, your room. I just can’t do it.”
“I can move some of this stuff, make more space if that’s what you need.”
“No. I’ll take the basement. Doesn’t matter if it’s just a couch. I’ll be fine.” The way Gerry said it, I knew he wasn’t fine, at least not with my room. But I knew Gerry well enough to know he wasn’t going to do any explaining until he was good and ready to. So the basement it was. I’d come up with some sort of explanation for my parents.
Gerry and I spent the afternoon helping out, alternating between kitchen duty with my mom, and watching football with my dad. Gerry knew everything about sports, which won over my father. In the kitchen he was attentive and helpful, surprising even me. By 5 o’clock I was convinced both my parents liked Gerry better than me. Sure, he was always competitive, but somehow it seemed more than that, I just couldn’t figure out.
I found myself getting mad at Gerry. Why did he have to be so nice, so good looking, so helpful. When I wasn’t mad at Gerry, I was mad at my parents. They hadn’t seen me in months, and it was like I wasn’t even there. It was all about Gerry, and he was happily soaking it all up. Dinner couldn’t come fast enough.
Despite my bad attitude, Thanksgiving dinner was delicious, and the more I ate the more my mood improved. My parents asked questions about school, showing a genuine interest in what we were studying and how we were doing. They talked about how they met in school, started dating, and eventually married. They also had an endless supply of childhood stories about me, mostly embarrassing, but very entertaining as well.
It was going great, at least until my parents started asking Gerry about his family.
“I’m sure your parents are missing you, this being a family holiday,” my mom said innocently.
“No, I don’t think so,” Gerry quickly replied.
“Do they live far away? Is that why you didn’t go home?” My dad asked.
“No,” said Gerry, with a hint of annoyance.
I knew this was not going to end well if the questions kept up. I could sense it, but
my parents didn’t pick up on it. The questions kept coming. Do you have sisters or brothers? What does your mother do? Your father? Where did you grow up?
And then it all came spilling out.
“The truth is, my mother liked taking drugs more than taking care of a kid, and I never knew my father,” Gerry said calmly, without any emotion. “Growing up, we lived in a car for a while. When that didn’t work out, I ended up at some relatives I didn’t know, turns out they didn’t want me either. Then I lived at a bunch of different places…” He trailed off, seeming to run out of words.
Silence. Shock and silence. A clock was ticking somewhere in the house. Nobody said anything, ate anything, drank anything. All I could think about was how mad I had been at him earlier and how he must be feeling now.
My father spoke first, looking directly at Gerry. “I’m sorry son. I sincerely mean that.” His voice strong and authoritative. “No child should ever have to go through that.”
“Thank you Mr C,” Gerry managed. “I’m sorry, I should have…or shouldn’t have…”
“No. There’s nothing you have to apologize for. You’ve done nothing wrong.” My father said, in a reassuring way. “Son, listen to me. If you ever need a roof over your head, a place to stay, you are always welcome here. Always. If you are ever in trouble, or need someone to talk to, anything, I want you to know, Margaret and I are here for you.”
“That’s right Gerry,” my mom softly added, as she reached over and placed her hand on his.
I was so proud of my father. We disagreed on politics and a bunch of other things, but when it came to love and protecting his family, he was second to none.
As I sat there struggling to make sense of what Gerry had said, he wiped his eyes with his napkin. “Thank you,” he said.
At this point my mother stepped in, saving us from our quiet discomfort. “Gerry, be a dear and help me take some of these dirty plates to the kitchen. I think we’re ready for pie and coffee.”
Looking greatly relieved to be called into service, Gerry got up and helped my mom collect the dishes, taking them into the kitchen. I could just see them from where I sat, mom embracing Gerry with a long hug, trying to make everything better.
“Dad, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I would have said something to you before, but I didn’t know. Honestly.”
“That’s OK Aaron. I shouldn’t have asked all those questions.” My dad replied. Then after a few moments, “He’s a good kid. After all that he’s been through, I’m glad he has someone like you in his life.”
“Thanks dad.”
Mom and Gerry came back in to the dining room with pie and coffee. The break seemed to do us all good. We found other things to talk about, including more embarrassing childhood stories, and the laughter returned.
Later that night I went downstairs with Gerry, to help with the pillows and blankets for the old couch.
“Aaron, I’m really sorry about today, and the way I acted,” Gerry said.
“It’s OK. You don’t have to explain anything.” I said, trying to be sympathetic and provide him with space.
Gerry sat down on the couch, leaving a spot for me. I sat down beside him, settling in, leaning up against him. “It’s just that earlier, when I was in your room, and there was all of your stuff, and it was everything a perfect childhood should be, the type of life every kid like me dreams about. Then there was that photo of you and your dad in baseball uniforms, together, the two of you.” Gerry said, trailing off.
“I get it. I know what you mean, but it definitely wasn’t perfect. Those stories at dinner, that’s just some of the proof.” I laughed. Gerry seemed less convinced, but didn’t object.
We sat there for a long time, leaning against each other.
Eventually Gerry said, “I should have told you about my parents, That wasn’t fair. I should have told you.”
“Why didn’t you?” I asked.
“I thought if I never brought it up, it wouldn’t matter,” Gerry said.
I sat there, listening. I knew he had more to say.
“After I met you, it was like I became a different person, a better person, a person I really liked. I wanted you to like me too. I didn’t want to disappoint you, make you think I was all… I don’t know… all messed up.”
“Gerry, do you remember the first time we had sex, we ended up so mad at each other, and I stormed out of the room. We didn’t speak for weeks.”
“Yeah, so?”
“My point is, I knew then that not everything was going to be easy with you, but I’m right here, beside you, right where I want to be. And since I’ve known you, we’ve figured out how to get through it all, whatever it is, together, the two of us.”
“Thanks,” Gerry said, leaning over, kissing me on the head.
I gave Gerry a long hug. Several quiet minutes went by.
“You know, you hug just like your mom,” Gerry said.
“I warned you she was a hugger.”
“Now that I think about it, you kind of dress like her too.”
“Ha ha. Very funny.” I replied sarcastically. “What’s that saying… if you don’t have anything nice to say…”
“Hmm. Let me think… your dad, he’s a hottie.” Gerry said.
“A what?”
“You know, for being 50, he’s hot. He’s in great shape, and I love his beard, so sexy. You should grow one. I wonder what it would be like to kiss him with that scratchy beard.” Gerry went on, grinning.
“Ewww! That’s my father.” I quickly replied.
“I wonder if he’s got a big dick like you.”
“I don’t know, and I can’t believe we are talking about this.”
“Does he wear sexy little underwear like you too?”
“Would you stop,” I jokingly complained.
Gerry tried to snuggle against me and give me a kiss. I squirmed on the couch, pushing him away.
“I only mentioned how handsome your father is, because now I know what I have to look forward to,” Gerry explained, moving back in for a kiss. “If you’re going to turn out just like him, a hot and sexy daddy, then I’m one lucky guy.”
“OK, you might have just barely saved yourself with that,” I said. “But are you saying I’m not a hottie now?”
“Just be quiet and kiss me you fool,” Gerry said, as we finally kissed.
Breaking away from our embrace, Gerry whispered, “Do you want to do it?” As he reached down squeezing my hardening cock, trying to get what he wanted like he always did.
“Stop, not here, not in my parents house.” I begged as he kept trying to kiss.
“You’re turning me on, the more you resist,” he said, while his hands continued their attack. “You’re irresistible.”
“Shhh, they can hear you,” I said quietly. “Plus it sounds like it’s my father making you horny, not me.” I teased him.
“We’ll I wouldn’t say no to him,” Gerry quipped.
“Well, if that were to happen, I’m pretty sure he would be the one doing the fucking.” I came back at him.
“There’s always a first time,” he smiled.
“That’s enough from you for one night,” I said, exasperated. “I just can’t win. I’m going to bed, you pervert.”
“Alright, alright, go to bed then. You’ll just have to owe me.” Gerry chuckled, grabbing his bulge. “Oh, and you know all those trophies you have in your room, one of them has a word misspelled on it. I wouldn’t be too proud of that one. I think it was just for participation anyway, not really an achievement.”
“I hate you,” I said, heading for the stairs.
“I hate you more,” Gerry replied, without missing a beat.
“Good night,” I said in a huff, determined to go find that damn trophy with the misspelling and throw it away.
“Good night,” Gerry called back sweetly, as I headed up the stairs.
The next day I helped my mom unpack Christmas decorations. For her, the holidays were like clockwork. Christmas always started the day after Thanksgiving. My dad took Gerry for a long hike around the property. A chance to show off the acreage and to talk guy talk. They probably would hike up Signal Mountain. It was really more of a hill than a mountain, but if you wanted to get decent reception for your phone, you had to go all the way to the top, hence the name.
“I’m glad you brought Gerry home,” my mom said, “I really like him.”
“Yeah, I like him too, that is when he’s not driving me crazy.”
My mom laughed. “I felt the same way about your father when we first met.”
“Dad? Really?” I replied.
“Oh, he could be so annoying, the things he’d say or do. But that was just his way of saying he cared about me. He didn’t know any other way, and I knew the reason it annoyed me was because I cared about him too. Over time he changed, learned new ways. Don’t worry, Gerry will too. He’s been through a lot. The more he trusts you, the more he’ll open up.”
It was true, at least so far. From the first days of knowing Gerry up until now he had changed, bit by bit, for the better.
“Thanks mom,” I said, resisting the urge to hug her, which I badly wanted to do. “Thanks for everything.”
“No matter how old you are, you’re still my boy. Now give me a hug so we can get done with this before they’re back. We still have so much to do.”
That night we all went out to dinner as a family. My parents treated Gerry as one of the family. Gerry loved it, and I loved it too, even if it meant giving up my title of only child. Before we left the restaurant, we even had the waitress take a photo of us. Our first family photo.
Back at school on Saturday night, I was in my dorm room unpacking and thinking about what I had to get done before classes started up again on Monday, when I got a text from Gerry, “we need to talk”. That was odd. We had just spent the last three days together, plus the two hour car ride each way. We had plenty of time to talk.
I headed to his room, and found him there, sitting on his bed. Everything seemed perfectly fine.
“Aaron?” he said, using his deep serious voice.
“Yeah,” I replied cautiously, unsure where this was going.
“I was thinking we should have make up sex.”
“Make up sex?” I asked. “I didn’t know we were mad at each other.”
“Well, I have something to tell you, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to get mad. So before we go through all of that, let’s just have the make up sex first. Then maybe you won’t be so mad.”
“Are you breaking up with me, were my parents that bad?” I joked.
“Oh no. I liked your parents. In fact I think I like them more than I like you.” He said dryly. Apparently he hadn’t lost his sense of humor.
“Ok, it’s working. I’m getting mad at you already.” I replied “Is that what you had to say?”
“No, it’s something else. But if you’re ready for make up sex…”
“Gerry!” I said angrily, in a raised voice.
“Ok, ok, calm down,” he said. “Just stay sitting and try not to get too mad.”
I sat there with a scowl on my face.
“I took a pair of your dad’s underwear. There I said it.” He admitted.
“You did what?” I asked, just in case I didn’t hear him correctly.
“Just one pair, I brought them back, in my bag,” he explained.
“You snuck into my parent’s room and went through his dresser, looking for his underwear?”
“No, nothing like that. You see, when I was packing up my things this morning, I took a look around to make sure I had everything, and I saw the washer and dryer in the basement, and next to them there was this basket of clothes, and I don’t know. It just sort of happened.”
“Are you making this up? Trying to see if you can creep me out?” I asked, knowing that Gerry loved a good prank, particularly at my expense. “It’s my dad we’re talking about.”
“No, I’m serious,” he said, “Here, I’ll show you.”
Gerry got up, rummaged through his duffel bag, and pulled out a pair of briefs, holding them up for me to see. I was instantly aroused. I knew I shouldn’t be, they were my dad’s, but I couldn’t help it. The briefs were light blue, with a y-front, and a black waistband. I wondered if they really were my father’s. I knew he wore briefs, but I had never seen these before.
Gerry with a mischievous look on his face and sensing my discomfort, held them up to his nose, inhaling. “Dirty,” he whispered. I about passed out. We hadn’t had sex all week so I was on edge anyway, and to see him sniffing a worn pair of my dad’s underwear was too much. My cock was beyond hard.
I wasn’t angry at Gerry. I knew I should be, that he expected me to be, but I wasn’t. Because… well, for one thing, I could think of all sorts of reasons why he’d be attracted to my father.
Suddenly an idea came to me, or more accurately came to me and my stiff cock. Granted, probably not the best idea I ever had, I blame that on my cock, but rarely do I have any kind of leverage over Gerry, so I thought why not give it a try, have a little fun.
“You’ve been a bad boy Gerry,” I said with an authoritative tone.
He looked confused by my statement, expecting instead that I would be mad at him, ranting and raving.
“Do you know what bad boys have to do?” I continued.
“No,” Gerry replied, clearly puzzled.
“They have to do exactly what daddy says,” I said sternly.
Gerry looked conflicted, one part of him curious to see where this was leading. The other part of him unable to figure out why I wasn’t mad at him, and unsure what I had in mind. He hadn’t had sex all week either, so I knew he was horny too. After a brief pause, he decided to play along. “Yes,” he replied.
“Yes, what?” I snapped back.
“Yes, daddy.”
“That’s right. Now, come over here and drop your pants. Bring the underwear with you.” I ordered.
Obediently Gerry came closer, unbuckled his jeans, and let them drop to the floor, exposing his heather gray bikini. It was one of my favorites. There was nothing overtly sexy about it, which somehow made it all the more sexy. The fabric was thin, almost flimsy. In front, the soft fabric allowed his soft bulge to be clearly outlined, whatever the position. When his cock was hard, the fabric offered just enough free space to play with his erection, nibble the head and tease the shaft and balls. In back, the bikini hugged his muscular ass perfectly. I never tired of seeing him wear these.
“Hand me those,” I said, pointing to my dad’s briefs, which he did, the feel of the fabric sending a familiar shiver through me as I took them. “Now take off your shirt, and get down on the floor, on your knees.” When Gerry didn’t move, I said, “Do what daddy says, I don’t want to have to tell you again.”
Following my command, Gerry stepped out of his pants and shoes, took off his shirt, and knelt down on the floor facing me, naked except for his nicely filled gray bikini and gray socks.
“Now close your eyes,” I said. Gerry obeyed.
I quickly took off my shirt, shoes and pants, and changed into the blue y-front briefs. The familiar feel of my father’s briefs against my hard cock flooded me with memories. Memories of fascination, and obsession, and lust. Memories of jacking off again and again while wearing his briefs. I wanted nothing more than to jack off, right then and there in my father’s briefs, just like old times, but I couldn’t forget about Gerry. This was supposed to be about him, not about me.
I moved in front of Gerry, my bulging crotch just in from of his face. “Open your eyes,” I said. Gerry opened his eyes, startled to see me in my father’s briefs. “Show daddy how badly you want him, how badly you want his big cock.”
Gerry quickly leaned forward, pressing his lips firmly against my hard 10 inch cock, trapped inside the briefs, inhaling the lingering scent from my father and my own musky smell. Deep breaths as he nibbled at the tip, hungry for a taste.
Like a man possessed, he worked my cock and balls through the fabric. His hands on my ass, pulling me forward to increase the pressure, wedging the briefs up my own crack. His lips and teeth and tongue exploring every inch, exploring my balls. Trying to get at what laid inside.
After several minutes of his cock worship, I reluctantly told him, “That’s enough for now.” I could have continued like this for a long, long time, but had more in mind. “Get up on the bed, on your hands and knees,” I instructed. Gerry was disappointed, wanting more, but did as he was told. He climbed onto the bed, his fat cock hard and straining against his gray bikini with a growing wet spot at the tip. He assumed his position on all fours. His beautiful ass tilted upward, the gray fabric nestled suggestively in his crack, his low hanging balls cradled in gray cotton underneath. It was an arousing sight. My cock pulsed in anticipation.
It was now my turn to satisfy Gerry as I focused my attention on his muscular ass, I ran my hands over every inch of it. Around the sides, up the back, feeling the flimsy fabric, feeling the skin, warm to the touch. I took a single finger and traced up and down the crack, from his balls to the waistband and back again. Gerry laid his chest down on the bed, moans escaping from him as I played with his upturned ass.
I reached under and ran one of my hands over his balls, causing Gerry to twitch. “In my experience, bad boys have too much testosterone, way too much testosterone,” I murmured as I gently squeezed his balls. “You’ve been a bad boy Gerry, daddy’s going to have to milk that evil out of you.” Gerry was getting in to it now, moaning louder and arching his back, raising his hips higher.
I repositioned myself, so that my crotch was nestled against his beefy upturned ass. I pulled my own hard cock and balls out one of the leg openings of my father’s loose underwear and laid the shaft along his ass crack, on top of his gray bikini. I wasn’t planning on fucking him, I knew he wasn’t ready for that. I wanted to see just how far in my big cock would go, if I ever did get the chance. And I wanted to see how far he would let me go, exploring his ass, before asking me to stop. I had never played with his ass before, it was off limits up until now. I moved my cock up and down his crack, getting a feel for it. Watching as my cock head slid beyond the waistband of his bikini touching the small of his back as my balls pressed up tight against him. His meaty ass was going to be no match for my big cock, it would go in deep, very deep. Gerry didn’t protest at all as I rubbed my big daddy cock against him.
The friction of his bikini against my hard cock sent chills through me as I developed a steady rhythm, sliding my cock over him, up and down his crack. The erotic feel of my father’s underwear rubbing across my ass. I didn’t want to stop but had to, his ass was too perfect. I was afraid I’d shoot too soon.
Reluctantly, I took a firm grip of the gray fabric covering his ass with both hands, and yanked. Splitting the fabric, exposing that muscular ass and pink hairless hole. His dangling balls partially in view.
Gerry let out a surprised yelp.
“Daddy needs to get that cock of yours out, so I can milk it, release all that bad seed.” I said to him as I managed to work his hard cock downward and backward, out through the ripped hole in his briefs.
I spit into my hand, getting it good and wet, and place it around his cock. It throbbed in response to my touch, desperate for attention. “Oh daddy,…please,” Gerry moaned as I softly stroked, his back arching even more to improve access to his upturned ass.
Looking down at those pale white butt cheeks and that beautifully puckered hole, framed by the ripped gray fabric, I was intoxicated. I hadn’t planned on it, but couldn’t resist. I knelt down, tongue extended, and lightly licked across his exposed hole.
I thought he might explode right on the spot. His hips bucked, driving more of his hole onto my tongue. Sounds of pleasure escaped from him, as I continued to stroke his cock, and tickle his hole with my tongue. If he were a superhero, his tight pink hole had to be his weakness. He was defenseless as my probing tongue worked, his moans growing louder.
I sat up slightly, and took a finger and lightly ran it across his wet asshole. He shuddered in response, his hole puckering and clenching and then relaxing as my finger ran across it, over and over again.
“Now tell me, have you been a bad boy?” I asked.
“Yes daddy,” he replied. “A very bad boy.”
I took my long stiff cock and slapped it against his butt cheeks. First one side and then the other. Playful slaps, letting him feel how big it was and how excited he made me.
“Bad boys deserve spankings, don’t they,” I said as I continued the slapping across the torn fabric and his cheeks.
“Yes daddy. Please daddy, spank my ass with your big hard cock.”
“We need to make sure you are good and ready. We want that seed boiling hot. That’s the only way to get all that bad seed out of you.”
“Yes sir, please sir,” he pleaded.
I moved back into position behind Gerry.
“That pretty ass of yours has got my big dick leaking daddy juice all over the place,” I said as I played my stiff cock along his crack. “Let me rub it over your tight hole. Get it good and slick so my tongue can slide right in.” Gerry moaned loudly as my cock head skid up and down his crack, pausing at his hole, juicing it up.
I knelt back down, licking the sweet precum slathered on his hole and grabbing his pulsing hard cock, starting to milk it again. My father’s briefs had ridden up my ass, tight against my hole, scrapping against it delightfully, as I tasted the salty precum on Gerry’s hole, my tongue sliding delicately across his sensitive lips, toying with the sphincter. Gerry was gasping, his hips pushing backwards, against my tongue, trying to impale himself as I continued to stroke his cock. Gerry was loving it. I was loving it. But we are both getting too close.
I pulled away just in time. Watching his hard red cock, afraid it might spontaneously erupt. My own cock, dripping clear drops of semen onto the bed.
“Daddy’s going to cum first, all over that beautiful ass of yours. Then it will be your turn.” I explained.
“Yes sir.”
“But first, let’s take these off.” With effort, I untangled his bikini from him, sliding it down his legs and feet. Soon we were back in place. Gerry face down on the bed, his naked ass pointed up, beautiful and muscular. His wet pink hole easily accessible.
With one hand I grabbed my cock, painful and hard, sticking out the stretched leg opening of my father’s underwear. I started furiously pumping, the cock head resting in Gerry’s wet and meaty ass crack. It only took a handful of strokes.
“Oh fuck, here it comes!” I managed to blurt out. My body heaved as the cum started flowing. Not jets spurting out, but a steady stream of jizz flooding out, pooling up on his ass, sliding down his crack. I stroked and gasped for breath, trying not to topple over.
“Fuck!” Gerry yelled out, as the hot cum fell against him, searing him,
and his sensitive lips. “Oh fucking daddy.” He moaned, over and over.
I would have liked to pause, catch my breath and savor the ecstasy, but I still had work to do. Once I the last drops of cum oozed out, I quickly knelt back down, my face up against his ass, the strong smell of cum invading my nose.
I took Gerry’s torn bikini and wrapped it around his fat cock, my hand holding it in place, while I started stroking. My tongue found the first pool of cum and slid it along his crack, up against his hole.
“Oh daddy, please, please…” Gerry begged. His ass lips quivering.
I gently pushed it inside, then I found a second pool, and maneuvered that up against his hole as well.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, daddy, daddy…” Came bursting out of Gerry’s mouth as I serviced his hole.
I drove my tongue in, as far as it would go, covered in spunk, holding my breath as I penetrated, sliding deep in to his hole, filling him with my jizz. My hand firmly gripping his cock covered by the bikini, pulling on it. In an instant, his cock jerked, wildly shooting blasts of cum into his gray underwear. His hole clamping down on my tongue. Spasming involuntarily, as his cock continued to spew so much cum, that the fabric couldn’t catch it all.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck…” was all he could say as his body trembled, and his ass lips quivered, emptying himself of all that bad seed.
Once I felt it was safe to move, I climbed up the bed and helped Gerry roll over onto his side. Facing each other, I leaned in for a kiss, presenting my cummed up lips to him. It was tender and sweet, a satisfying combination of lips and tongue and cum.
We rolled onto our backs to recover and regain our senses. Our breathing slowly returned to normal.
Eventually, after enough time had passed, I handed Gerry his bikini that had become a drenched cum rag. “You might want this, a souvenir from the night you lost your virginity,” I said jokingly.
“Thanks,” Gerry replied with a smile, taking the underwear from me.
“I’m not sure that actually qualifies, but either way, I’m still planning on wearing white for the wedding.”
We both laughed.
After a minute or two passed, Gerry said, “You know, I don’t think I’m the only one here that’s fantasized about your father.”
“Probably not,” I admitted.
“Says the man who just had sex wearing his father’s underwear,” Gerry laughed.
“Well, when you say it like that…”
“Don’t worry,” Gerry said as he held me. “I think you’re the most adorable pervert.”
“I was just going to say that about you,” I quickly replied with a smile, leaning back over to kiss.
We laid there in silence, savoring, and recovering.
“Remember the other day I told you there was a word misspelled on one of your trophies.”
“Yeah,” I said, not sure why he was bringing this up.
“Sorry, but I just said that to irritate you. There wasn’t anything wrong with your trophies.”
“What? You’re impossible, you know that don’t you? I hate you.” I said. “I really mean it.”
“Does that mean you’re ready for make up sex now, because I am,” Gerry said as he leaned in for another kiss.