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Joel wasn't prepared to have this conversation, and really, who could blame him? I knew I'd fucked up. Fucking my grandson wasn't planned, and as the pillar of this family I should have turned Luke away when he approached me. But I didn't. I found him too attractive, too handsome, too fascinating. So, when Luke expressed interest in me, I let him explore on his terms. I let him give himself to me. I did it with an open heart, but I should've done something else, first: cleared this with his father/my son, Joel.
I watched Joel's eyes search the floor for understanding, for meaning. He looked at me, but I couldn't meet his gaze. Not at first, at least. I'd been thinking about how I got here. How I let my desires lead me straight into a situation where I’d hurt my son. And as I followed that path of thought, I found what should've been the obvious truth—that this was not the first time the men of this family had found ourselves tangled in the roots of love. I sat down on the bed, gripped Joel's shoulder encouragingly, and whispered, "Do you remember our first time together?"I watched Joel's ...[Read more]
I watched Joel's eyes light up. Memory took over.
Joel and I had our own intimacy growing up. Our roots had tangled before. Perhaps that was just the fate of the men of our family, to find deeper joy in each other's bodies that society wouldn't, or couldn't, understand. Joel's voice was low, almost reverent, when he finally said that he remembered. Like he was speaking about something holy. He remembered it all, and it was one of the happiest days of his life. But was the same true for Luke? And even if it was, would it remain that way? Memories can change and twist into regrets. Luke's life was hard enough with the toil of his transition and Joel refused to do anything that could add difficulty to his son's life.
The only way I could ease Joel's mind, I realized, was to show him how strong, confident, and sexy Luke really was.
I called Luke in and had him sit next to his father. I explained to him that I told Joel what had happened between us. Luke looked between his father and I, his eyes wide not with fear, but with mild surprise.
"Oh?" the boy said, unbothered.
Such a simple response seemed to lift at least a small weight off Joel's shoulders, though complicated emotions still crawled along his brow. So, I pulled Luke up and held him in my arms. I pressed his back into my chest and locked eyes with Joel so that he could understand—this is what we can do. He, I, Luke, all the men of our family can do this. We are that strong, that connected, and that devoted to each other.
I kissed Luke's neck. I rubbed his stomach, then his chest. I groped and massaged him as we made out. And I did all this in front of Joel.
It was difficult for Luke to keep his cool as Joel stared at us. But I knew that he understood. His lips trembled, but his hips shifted, also. His overwhelmed emotions slowly gave way to arousal. I took charge and had Joel scoot to the head of the bed, then led Luke there by the hips. I pulled the boy's shirt over his head and his jeans down. Joel's conflicted expression gave way to whimpers and moans as I played with his son's nipples in front of him. Eventually, Joel had enough—he had to join in. If not for his arousal, then for his duty as a father to be there for his son's needs.
Joel rose and kissed me, and as we pressed our thick, built bodies together, we felt Luke writhe between us. This was a new sensation for him, I had to imagine, being sandwiched between two guys who were not exactly straight, but who weren't exactly gay either. It was delicious. It was transcendent for all of us. Luke was grinding into our pelvises, and I let my hands roam down past the waistband of his underwear.
Once we stripped Luke out of his clothes, I wondered if it was the first time Joel had seen his son's body after his transition. It must've been, because Joel practically fell face-first into Luke's bonus hole, like a starving man in front of a meal. He licked, and sucked, and dug his teeth into that sensitive spot. I watched my son's face contort as he lost himself in his son's flavor. Between us, we were three generations of lust, intertwined.
I didn't want to say too much at that point, lest it interfere with their experience, so I kept silent. I held Luke, as if to support him, while Joel fished his own cock out of his slacks. Joel entered his boy with the ferocity of freedom he neither knew he wanted nor needed. I watched them fuck, both of them dripping with sweat. They ground against each other, Joel thrusting into Luke, Luke writhing in my lap in throes of forbidden ecstasy. The mania of their sexuality overcame me, too; I stripped out of my underwear and presented my own erection to my grandson's mouth. Luke took it quickly—lapping at the head at first, then opening wide and allowing it to enter his face completely. We, Joel and I, spit-roasted Luke between us. Luke held Joel's hands. I kissed Joel's mouth while fucking Luke's face. We were, in some way, a triangle, joined at impossible points of scandal.
The next moments of our lives were a blur of emotion and hormones. Joel and I swapped places, taking turns on each of Luke's entrances. He shook and shuddered as he melted into us. After fucking Luke's mouth for several minutes, Joel wanted back in to Luke's bonus hole. We rotated again. He entered Luke; I could see the boy's hole stretching around the thick tip of his father’s dick then opening up wide to accommodate the rest of it. We fucked him for what seemed like ages, until the room was filled with Luke's moans and the sound of our flesh slapping together.
In the near moments before his orgasm, Joel's red face brimmed with intensity. Years of need streamed down his face in the form of tears. His hips pounded faster and faster. He cried out and pulled out, and a river of his seed spilled out of Luke's hole. I pulled out and leaned back on the bed, watching my son Joel fall back into Luke's extra entrance. Joel lapped his own seed up from Luke, as if the product of this orgasm was so sacred, so special that he couldn't let a drop go to waste.
Eventually, we grew exhausted. We slipped out of our respective holes and collapsed onto the sheets of the bed, panting. I don't know what will become of this family, truthfully. No man can see the future. All I know is that I love my son, Joel, and I'm sure he loves me. As for Luke... I hope he knows, deep down, that no matter what happens, we'll always be there for him. In whatever way he needs. No one got up from the bed, though. No one ran. No one was eager to let the moment leave. That, alone, made me think that we would make it through this complicated attraction. Somehow.
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