Like Son

Part 2 of a 2-part story, the first part being "Like Father." And remember, if you like what you read here, consider checking out my newly-published anthology; information available through my homepage link.


"If it's okay, can you wait while I take a shower?"

It's his usual excuse, and a fair one at that; they're coming directly from soccer practice, and a shower would not be out of the question, although it's not strictly necessary.

"Sure, whatever," says Andy, and Arthur smiles, heading down the hallway to the bathroom. As he closes the door behind him, he hears the smooth, deep voice of his father offering to show Andy up to Arthur's room. Andy smiles and reaches into his duffel bag, pulling out a change of clothes. He begins his routine.

First, he pulls off his current clothes, throwing them into a heap below the towel rack. His dad will come pick them up later, and it makes his shower story more convincing. Naked, he moves over to the bathtub, turns on the spout, and sticks his head under the flowing water. It's cold, but it only lasts a few seconds before he turns it off. He grabs a towel off the rack and rubs down his soaking hair, leaving it still moist, then throws the damp towel on top of his old, smelly clothes. Quickening his pace, he grabs some deoderant out of the duffel and puts it on, then scrambles into the fresh clothes. As he heads for the door, he grabs a tissue from the box and stuffs it into his pocket.

Arthur has not showered, but in less than a minute, he has forged the appearance that he has.

Arthur tiptoes into the hallway, over to the door of his room. The routine is calculatedly just long enough to give his father time to set things up, and become distracted. Arthur reaches the door and grabs the knob - long practice teaches him how to open it silently, as he pulls the door tightly shut, quickly turns the knob, and then pushes the door slowly forward a few inches. The hinges are well-oiled, and it does not even creak as it reveals slowly to him the scene of his father, with three slick fingers buried in Andy's ass.

Arthur's breathing begins to come quickly. His father is further along than Arthur had thought he'd be; he must not have had to do much convincing. Arthur smiles to himself. He'd known that Andy would be a good choice. Though the boy acted tough at school, Arthur had a feeling that he was not quite what he seemed. Careful observation convinced him that Andy was the type of boy who would do as he was told by the father of his friend, and who would be too embarrassed afterward to tell anyone what had happened to him. With any luck, Andy might even come over again; several of the boys had seemed to like what Arthur's father did to them, and eagerly agreed when Arthur asked them if they wanted to come over again.

Arthur watches with a shiver, as his father's fingers delve deep into Andy's ass, sliding in with a wet, squishy sound. The door is close enough to the bed that he can see the knuckles of his father's hand as Andy's anus swallows them, and hear the soft whimpering of his friend under the ministrations.

His father begins to twist the fingers around, stretching the muscle and making Andy writhe, and at the same time, reaches for his fly. Arthur copies the motion, unzipping his own pants and pulling out his much smaller penis.

He admires his father's member. It is large, and thick, and rises quickly at the prospect of penetrating the boy on the bed. Arthur has seen it many times before, but he's always surprised by how hungry it seems, how eager to bury itself inside one of Arthur's friends.

"Keep your eyes closed," Arthur hears his father say. "I have to switch something. Just a sec." Arthur knows what's coming, and holds his breath in anticipation as he watches his father guide the hungry member to Andy's anus, and push into him.

Andy starts squealing, and Arthur entertains for a moment, as he always does, the fantasy that it is him making Andy squeal, that he himself is a grown man, plunging his cock into the tight hole. He wants more than anything to be able to grow up, to have the power his father has to control these boys, to make them little more than helpless, writhing dolls at the whims of his penis. Arthur strokes his own member as he watches, noting the familiar way his father's face scrunches in pleasure and concentration as he finally seats himself completely inside the boy.

Andy's squeals continue as Arthur's father begins to fuck him, until finally the older man murmurs something, and the sounds subside. Arthur wishes he could hear what his father said, but he does not dare to get any closer, and risk his hiding spot. His father must never find out that Arthur knows what he does to these boys; otherwise, he might stop doing it.

Arthur's fingers move faster on his member as his father's hips start to pound at high speed. His hands are clenched on Andy's hips, and Arthur hopes that he doesn't leave bruises. When Sam came home one time with bruised hips, his parents had noticed and made him explain. He'd said that he'd gotten hit at soccer practice, and his parents had apparently believed him, but after that he'd stopped coming to Arthur's house.

It was a shame, too, because Sam was a really cute red-head, with freckles, and he'd obviously really liked being fucked by Arthur's dad. It had gotten to the point where he'd started asking Arthur if he could come over, without waiting for Arthur to make the invitation, and in the four weeks before he'd gotten caught, he'd been over fifteen times.

Arthur had enjoyed pretending he was fucking Sam, but Andy was pretty cute too. He'd been sitting in class all day, nervous, picturing his father taking Andy over the bed. It had been all he could do to concentrate during soccer practice, and he'd tripped more than once, not paying attention to what he was doing.

But now… now… Arthur's father is holding Andy at just the perfect angle for Arthur to see the ring of muscle that swallows up his cock. Arthur shudders, squeezing his own member in time with his father's thrusts, watching as Andy's face, eyes still closed, scrunched up in pain. Arthur's father shifts his weight, pausing slightly in his thrusts, and then begins to pound once more with redoubled thrusts. Andy's mouth opens in a silent little "o", and his expression spasms.

It is more than Arthur can take. He grabs the tissue out of his pocked at claps it over his member, stroking himself a few more times and coming into it. He squeezes his eyes shut, seeing flashes, and before he can stop himself, moans out loud. His eyes widen, and he quickly claps a hand over his mouth, but his father doesn't seem to notice; instead, he gives a few more vicious thrusts and stills, his hips twitching as he fills Andy's body with cum. Arthur lets out a shuddering breath as he watches his father climax into his friend's ass. When his father finally stills, Arthur hurriedly finishes wiping himself up and draws back from the door.

He hears his father reassuring the boy, and then quick footsteps as he walks towards the door and bursts out of it. Arthur doesn't worry about being spotted; his father never looks back when he's coming out of Arthur's room. Instead, Arthur smiles at the retreating back, and waits a few minutes beside the door for Andy to compose himself, so the other boy can pretend that nothing has happened, as Arthur knows he will want to.

His grin widens as he hears his father move into the living room and sit down. Once again, he's gone completely undetected; his father will never find out.