8. Nate
CHAPTER 8
NATE
I ’ve been in bed for the last hour, trying to hold down the contents of my stomach as it spins. It feels like someone’s shoved their hands inside my stomach, and they’re twisting my guts with all their might. The only relief I’ve found is in the sound of Bennet and Benji’s animalistic voices as they explore each other in the next room. Their cries and moans have been so loud, I’m surprised no one’s sent a cop to perform a welfare check. There have been a few times I thought I heard my name, but it’s probably just this flu causing me to hallucinate. Yet, there’s this tiny little voice in my head, saying “What if I’m not?” It’s a ridiculous question. Why would they mention me while having sex?
They’re having sex without me.
There’s a queer feeling in the pit of my stomach, similar but stronger to the feeling I had when I had to watch Lindsay fall into a whirlwind romance with my son’s friend, Fiona. It was jealousy then, so it must be jealousy now, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what—or who—I’m jealous of.
“ Nate ,” my Bennet calls out, making my heart slam in my chest. God. The way he said it makes it sound like his pleasure is down to me. It’s a silly thought, but it’s one that makes me blush. I want to get out of this bed and go see them, but I can barely move. Even if I could force myself out of this room, they don’t need their old man watching them. My only goal these last few months was to get them to a place of normalcy again. If they’re pushing personal boundaries on their own, the best thing I can do is silently cheer them on from the sidelines. If they need me, they’ll ask for me.
I reach for my phone, my body aching as I stretch. Each inch feels like a mile, but once I’ve got my hand around the phone, it’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I unlock it and stare at my background—at my beautiful Benji—and smile. Their moans play in concert, each cry more beautiful than the last, and the longer I stare at his penis on the screen, the easier it is to picture what they’re doing. I still can’t believe I agreed to setting his erection as my background, but I think I’d do anything if it meant making him happy.
Bennet’s probably lying down, because Benji wouldn’t want his other half to overexert himself when he’s sick. I don’t think they’re ready for oral sex, so they’re more than likely masturbating or frotting. A mental picture of Benji knelt over Bennet flashes through my head. Benji’s got his hands wrapped around their cocks, stroking them frantically. Beads of sweat have formed on his brow, and he looks up from best friend’s cock long enough to look me in the eyes like a good boy. Like my good boy.
“Oh, God, Dad,” Benji calls out from the other room, making my body shudder. I know he probably meant to say Bennet’s name, but the sound of my name coated in his pleasure sends a chill down my spine. No one’s looked at me sexually in years. My wife certainly hasn’t, not that I’ve given her much attention either.
I pull up a picture of them side by side. A selfie they took for me a few weeks back. Their smiling faces are so similar. So beautiful. As I stare at their faces, their voices fill my room through the vents, sounding like the world’s most sordid air conditioner. I swipe to the right, and another picture of Benji's cock fills my phone screen. Warmth pools in my cheeks when I feel myself stiffen. I swipe back to the smiling selfie from before, because it feels a bit strange to stare at his penis while mine is rising like the sun.
Dammit.
I haven’t come in months. I’ve got a load that could keep a starving man nurtured for years, and this is my only chance to tame the beast, as one might say. I’m not opposed to masturbating with my boys in the next room, but if I do, it’ll feel like I’m rubbing one out while thinking about them, and that would be depraved. Moral corruption at its finest.
I slide my hand beneath my pajamas—the ones with their initials all over—and wrap it around my hardening shaft. God. It’s been so long since I’ve been this hard. Usually, during the rare instances I’m able to rise to the occasion, I’m half-hard at best, and masturbation involves me carefully stroking the flailing snake until it eventually spits. Now, I’m harder than I’ve ever been.
I give myself an exploratory stroke, waiting for the moment my dick remembers its sole purpose in life is to be an unending disappointment, but it doesn’t happen. Even when I take my hand off it—an act that was once the death blow to my erection—it remains aimed high to the sky, refusing to back down. I slide my pajamas and underwear down to my thighs and stare at my cock, almost daring it to go soft.
“Nate,” Bennet cries out, and I watch, amused, as my cock jolts at the sound of my name. Bennet calls out my name, and my dick twitches again.
I shouldn’t.
I really, really shouldn’t.
“That’s it, Bennet,” I shout so he can hear me. “Take care of him, buddy. That’s a good boy.”
Their bed stops squeaking, and I curse myself because I’ve ended whatever fun they’ve been having. They were having the time of their lives, and then I had to insert myself and pull them out of the moment. Shit.
The bed squeaks.
“Dad,” Benji calls out. “He’s stroking my cock.”
A bead of pre-cum pearls at the tip, and I use my thumb to collect it, then spread it across my shaft. “That’s a good boy, Bennet. I’m so proud of you, baby.” God, I’ve been stroking less than five seconds and I’m already close. Sharing this moment with them feels surreal. These are my boys. My only real friends at this point, and I’ve never felt closer to them.
“He feels so good, Nate,” Bennet says. “I think he’s about to come.”
Oh, fuck, yes. I want that. I want my Benji to shoot his load all over Bennet. Maybe rub the head of his little cock back and forth across Bennet’s lips, dirtying him up.
“That’s it, Benjamin. Come. I want you to come for me, buddy. Can you do that? Can you be Dad’s good boy?”
“Oh, God,” he screams. “God. Dad, I’m?—”
I flick a few photos over until I land on an image of my boys, side by side. They’re beaming into the camera like they’re smiling at me.
Fuck. I don’t even swear, but the way I feel right now, I kind of want to scream the dirtiest words I know. To pepper those words with my boys’ names once I’m done. Right now, I can understand why my son enjoys public play so much, because I want my boys here with me. Sharing the moment. Watching me with pride. Telling me how happy they are that my dick’s finally kicked my sex drive back in gear. They’d be so proud of me. They’re always so fucking proud?—
“Fuck!” I moan, erupting all over my chest. “Bennet. God. Fuck. Benji.” Their smiling faces are staring back at me on the phone, and I can’t tear my eyes away from them. Blast after blast, I paint my skin, my eyes never leaving theirs. “Dad loves”—I groan, my teeth clenched, jaw locked, as another jet shoots out, landing on my nipple.—“you. Fuck. Fuck, Benji. Bennet.”
As I steady my breathing, their smiling faces are my only tether to this place. It feels like I’m floating, drifting farther and farther away, then I hear them. Their quiet footsteps racing down the hall. My Benji giggling to himself as he approaches. I pull my blanket over my still-leaking cock, groaning when I realize I’ll have to wash it in the morning to get the cum out. I should have washed it last night, after they slathered me in cum and slept pressed against me in bed.
Once my penis is hidden away, I pull my underwear up but don’t bother with the pajamas, kicking them off until they’re just a bulge beneath the blanket.
I look up to find the Bens standing in my doorway, their chests glistening with cum, naked as the day they were born. Fuck.
“Hey, Dad,” Benji whispers.
“Hi, Nate,” Bennet adds, his voice just as soft as Benji’s. They’re holding hands, and Bennet’s thumb is rapidly rubbing the side of Benji’s hand. They share a nervous glance before nodding at each other. I’m not sure what they’re agreeing to, but I don’t think I care. I just came for the first time in months, and I’m riding an incredible full-body high, so I’m essentially blissed out of my mind.
“It’s lonely without you,” Benji says, staring at his feet. “Can we come cuddle in the big bed?”
“You never have to ask.” I flash Benji a smile as I collect a bit of cum from my chest and hold my hand up to show him. “You might get a little sticky, though.” His eyes widen and he licks his lips.
“Is that your cum?” Benji asks.
I nod. “It sure is, buddy.”
The Bens share a look, and for once, I think I know what they’re saying. They’re silently asking if it’s because of them. Heck, I think we’re all wondering, but they stand there, each questioning the other. Bennet’s too tired to mull it over for long, and he joins me on the bed. Benji follows behind, and to my surprise, he doesn’t go to the side of his best friend. He comes to me. He lies beside me. Benji’s cuddling up next to me, his sticky cock flush against my hip. Benji takes my cum-covered hand and guides it to his body, smearing the remnants of my load on his hip.
“Now you know you’re safe,” he says, leaning over and giving me a quick peck on the lips. The action makes my heart thunder in my chest, because it’s such an intimate display of affection, and it’s not something we’ve ever made a habit of doing. If it makes him feel more secure, I’ll let him do it for as long as he needs. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give these boys. “You never have to be sad or lonely again. We’re gonna take care of you the way you take care of us. I promise.” He leans down and presses another kiss to my lips, but it lasts a little longer this time. Each second feels like a lifetime. When he pulls away he’s giving me the most adorable smile I’ve ever seen. It’s like sunshine and happiness are bundled beneath his skin, and I want them to stay buried forever, ingrained into his DNA.
“I love you, buddy,” I say, stroking his cheek.
Is that a tear in his eye?
“Dad,” he chokes out, and then he throws himself around me, hugging me tightly. “I love you too. Probably more than I should.”
I chuckle. “You can love me as much as you want. I’ll take it all.” I give him a final peck on the forehead before darting my eyes toward Bennet. Not wanting our boy to feel left out, I roll on my side toward him, scooping some cum off my chest and offering it to him. “Do you want to wear me too? I don’t mind.”
He’s got his lip pulled between his teeth, but it plops out, red and maybe a little raw from nibbling, and says, “Please?”
How the heck did I get so lucky? These boys are the sweetest souls in the world. They’re everything. I slather my load on his chest, tickling his tummy, right beneath his belly button. “I love you, Bennet.” I lean forward and offer him the same kiss Benji gave me a moment ago. The second our lips touch, Bennet melts in front of me. His body goes limp and he lets out a contented sigh. It doesn’t last terribly long. Maybe three or four seconds at most. When I pull away, his eyes are half-lidded, and he dreamily follows after me, chasing the kiss. I pull him against me and motion Benji forward until he’s spooning me. Benji’s hand is around my waist, and I grab it and hold on. We’re connected now. It almost feels like we’re tethered to each other, and the act of breaking apart feels impossible, so we simply lie here and nap the rest of the day away.
Downstairs, the sound of laughter fills this once-dreary house. The scent of bacon clings to the air, so thick it almost feels like I could open my mouth and take a bite. The bed is empty, and panic hits me, because when I fell asleep, my boys were here beside me. I dozed in and out throughout the night, wanting to make sure Bennet was okay. Each time I woke up, my dick was throbbing, leaking all over the things next to me. Unfortunately, that meant Bennet and Benji. One time, I was even thrusting against Bennet’s leg. I felt like a monster. Here he is, thinking his new dad is the bee’s knees, and I’m practically molesting the man. Unintentional or otherwise, it doesn’t change the facts. My boys trust me, and I was basically fucking one of my son’s thighs.
Even worse, I’m just as hard as I was then.
I don’t know what in the world’s gotten into my penis, but I plan to take full advantage of its mid-life encore. Taking myself in my hand, I stroke my dick slowly as I unlock my phone. Initially, I planned on sending them a text, letting them know I need a little privacy, but when I see the image of Benjamin’s erection staring back at me on my home screen, I can’t. I didn’t plan on keeping it as my background for longer than a day or two, but now that it’s here, I don’t think I ever want to change it again. He was so brave showing it to me. My courageous little guy showing me his little engine that could.
I stroke myself slowly, trying to think of what the day might hold for us. If Bennet’s feeling better, we can cuddle on the couch. Maybe he can sit in my lap again. Gosh, it felt so nice to have him there. With one of them in my lap, I feel like I have a purpose again. I don’t want that purpose to ever fade.
Even though I’ve barely begun, I’m already nearing the edge. “I’ll take care of you, I promise. I’ll keep you safe. Show you you’re loved—because you are.” Benji’s penis is burning holes into me from the other side of the screen, and the mental image of his nude form clouds my vision. It sends even more visions coursing through my head. Images of them playing with each other’s cocks. Of them bent over the bed, staring at me over their shoulder. Jesus. I can see it so clearly. A light dusting of hair down Bennet’s crack. Benji’s hairless pucker is exposed as he stares at me with his big, innocent eyes. “I’m coming,” I manage through a grunt. “Fuck.”
Like last night, I erupt, blasting semen into the air, loving the warm wetness when it lands on my chest. I’m not going to wipe it off. I’m going to wear my load like a badge of honor so my sons can see it. Maybe they’ll want to wear me again. I know I sure want to wear them.
Once my heart rate is back to normal, I sit up, surprised to find I feel like a million bucks compared to yesterday. It must’ve been a twenty-four-hour bug, which means Bennet will probably be feeling better too. That realization sends a smile spreading across my face, and I hop up from bed, wanting to check on him. I don’t bother with underwear, just slip into pajamas and head downstairs.
They’re in the kitchen, Bennet is placing silverware at our seats, while Benji rations scrambled eggs between the three of us. I lean against the kitchen archway, watching them work. Bennet whirls toward the sink and sashays over, dancing along to the music they’re playing through the Bluetooth speakers I bought for them last month.
Bennet’s hips are rolling like rapids, left to right, then back again. He’s wearing a pair of cream-colored briefs, almost the same shade as his skin, making it appear like he’s nude. The underwear are bunched between his cheeks, giving me the perfect view of his tight little ass.
Wait.
What the hell was that?
This is Bennet. My Bennet. He’s family. I shouldn’t care how tight his ass is. It’s none of my concern. The longer I stare, the more confused I get, because the man’s dance moves are having a strange effect on me. My heart feels like it might leap out of my chest, my hands are sweating and shaking, and my erection must be the Comeback King, because after months upon months of slumber, he’s waking from hibernation yet again.
I need to sit down before either of them notice, so I rush toward the table and plop down in my chair, calling out, “Morning, boys,” as cheerfully and casually as I can. Once I’ve got my chair safe and secure against the table, hiding my now-stiff cock from view, I breathe a sigh of relief. The relief doesn’t last long, as a pair of arms wrap around me from behind. There’s the scent of rose-scented body wash, and just the slightest hint of . . . vanilla?
Benji’s cologne. Well, my ex-wife’s perfume. He’s been wearing it since I told him it was a scent I love more than anything in the world.
“Good morning, baby boy.” I press my hand on top of his, holding his palm against my heart. He drags it lower until his thumb is able to brush against my nipple, making my body rock beneath him. “Did you sleep well?”
“I always sleep well when I sleep with you,” he says.
“You’ve only slept with me twice,” I remind him, but he just laughs off that fact.
“And I’ve never slept more soundly than I have these last two nights.”
“Me too,” Bennet adds, kneeling at my side. God. What did I ever do to earn the affectionate looks these boys keep giving me? They stare at me like I’m their God. Like their lives depend on me. It’s a look I don’t take lightly. I open my arms, inviting them both in for a hug, and it’s like being pummeled by pure, unfiltered love.
“I’ve still got you all over me, Dad,” Benji says, nuzzling closer to me. “You feel so good on me.”
“Me too,” Bennet adds. “So good, Nate. Benji was right, it makes me feel safe.”
“Well, I’ll give you both as much as I can make.” I stare down at the cooling cum on my chest and smile. “I’m surprised you haven’t stolen this morning’s earnings yet.”
Their eyes snap to my chest, bulging as they say, “Oh my God.”
Benji looks up at me. “You jacked off?”
I know I’m probably blushing like crazy, but I don’t let it stop me from nodding. They wipe their fingers through my load and paint a heart on each other’s chest with it. Benji shares a smile with Bennet, and after each of my boys give me a quick kiss on the forehead, they return to their routine. Benji’s singing something about a cruel summer to himself, and while Bennet’s not nearly as animated as before he knew I was in the room, he’s still gliding around the room, shaking his hips from time to time.
The boys fix my plate and set it in front of me, each of them beaming ear to ear. We eat in relative silence, then I collect their plates and carry them to the sink, forgetting to grab mine in the process. In the time it takes me to place the plates in the sink and turn around, the entire mood of the room has shifted. Benji’s sitting on Bennet’s lap, facing him. He has his legs wrapped around the back of the small kitchen chair, and his hands are on Bennet’s shoulders.
Wonderstruck, I watch as their lips approach slowly. When they touch, it feels like my heart might burst. This isn’t their standard good-morning kiss. It’s not a quick peck on the lips. Their mouths are open, and while I don’t see any tongue, the kiss is deep, and it’s having an effect on Benji, because he’s rolling his hips slowly. Bennet’s nails graze down Benji’s sides, tickling him until Benji’s giggles interrupt their kiss.
“Stop that,” Benji hisses, gently popping Bennet’s hand. I figure this will be the part where they break the kiss and return to our morning routine, but that’s not the case. Benji just glances over his shoulder at me like I’m little more than an afterthought. “You don’t mind, do you, Dad? We’ve been practicing kissing.”
I shake my head, feeling a bit dazed, if I’m being honest. “Practicing?”
He nods. “For when we land our new Daddy. We want to rock his world, don’t we, Bennet?”
Bennet’s hand is on Benji’s waist, inching toward his backside at a snail’s pace, but his eyes are on mine, refusing to look away. “Yeah. Daddy deserves the best.”
“Your Daddy’s going to be the luckiest man alive,” I say in a voice that doesn’t sound like mine. It’s raw and gravelly like I’ve been swallowing sandpaper. “Go on, then. Don’t stop on account of me.”
My Bens share a secret smile before locking lips and returning to the task at hand. I lean back against the counter, watching the scene unfold. Bennet’s hand slides down until it’s cupping Benji’s ass, his fingers digging mercilessly into the cheek. He’s whimpering and whining beneath Benji, but Benji’s too far gone to hear them.
Benji’s grinding against him, taking his abdomen by force, the same way Bennet did with my hip the other day. I’m left awestruck when they break the kiss long enough for Bennet to wrap his fingers around Benji’s cloth-covered cock. The moment his hand touches down, Benji lets loose an ungodly moan, filling the room with an almost palpable air of sex. He’s fucking up into Bennet’s fist, his face buried in the crook of Bennet’s neck, and the entire time it’s happening, Bennet’s staring me in the eyes like a man. Like my good boy. I’m just so damn proud of him. A week ago—hell, two days ago—the thought of seeing these two boys kiss each other with passion would have seemed impossible. Now that Bennet’s masturbating his best friend, it seems like the most natural thing in the world.
“Are you close, baby?” Bennet asks. When Benji pulls away from Bennet’s neck, he’s got big, beautiful tears in his eyes. He’s nodding emphatically, his hips rising and falling as he fucks Bennet’s hand.
“Dad,” Benji moans. “Oh, God. Dad, come here. I need to feel you. Need to know it’s okay.”
I approach slowly, my now rock-hard cock straining against my pajamas. Damn. I came less than thirty minutes ago, and I’m already ready for round two. I really need my dick to figure itself out, because this is so outside the norm for me and for it. For God’s sake, I’m like a horny teenager.
When I’m standing over him, I stroke Benji’s shoulder. He looks up at me with love-drunk eyes, one hand on Bennet’s chest, the other reaching for me. He has his hand around my wrist, and before I can react, he pulls it toward his stomach, letting it rest there, refusing to let go. Jesus. His skin feels like fire. Like pure heat. It’s pouring off him endlessly, his eyes locked on mine, the gaze both intense and welcoming.
“I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, too, baby.” To prove it, I tickle his tummy, smiling as he giggles and gasps for air. “How’s that feel, buddy? Is Bennet making you feel good?” My cock strains harder in my pajamas when he licks his lips.
“Bennet looks lonely,” he whispers. “Hold his hand, Dad.”
Just the thought of Bennet being sad because he feels excluded makes my heart crack in my chest. I don’t want either of them to feel excluded. They’re the biggest part of my life—the best part of my life—and there are no third wheels in this home. I grab Bennet’s free hand and squeeze tightly.
“I’m so dang proud of you, Bennet,” I say before a quick pop of pain spreads across my hand. Mary, mother of Jesus, what on earth was that? It doesn’t take me long to find the source of my pain. Benji’s hand is hovering over mine, and the skin on mine is red from where he’s just slapped me.
“Not that hand. Hold his other hand.”
I stare down at Bennet’s other hand which is still locked on his best friend’s penis. He’s pumping faster now, like it’s his life’s goal to make Benji come.
“But he’s touching your . . .” Every breath I take feels like sucking air through a straw. He’s looking at me with nothing but fire in his eyes.
“He’s touching my cock,” Benji says. “He’s so lonely, Dad. Our boy needs you.”
God help me, I don’t have an explanation for what I do next. The second Bennet looks up at me with pleading eyes, I’m a goner. My boy needs this. He’s so damn lonely down there on his own, I can’t stand it. I kneel next to him, kissing his bare chest.
“Dad’s here, Bennet. I’m right here with you.”
“Dad?” he whispers.
I kiss the tip of his nose. “If you’ll have me.”
His chest is rising and falling faster, his cheeks flushed with heat. “I’m yours,” is all he says before tearing his other hand away from Benji’s, grabbing me by the wrist, and holding me there as he strokes. I’m dazed at first, unable to form words, much less react. It feels like it’s happening to someone else, and I’m simply a bystander, watching us work over our Benji. My arm is moving with his, no longer needing him to guide me. I rub my thumb over his knuckles, reminding him what a good boy he is for taking care of his friend’s needs like this. Telling him how damn proud I am of him.
I try not to twitch my pinkie too much, because it’s right at the edge of Bennet’s hand, and if I’m not careful, I’ll more than likely have direct contact with Benji’s dick. It’s not that the thought makes me feel uncomfortable—I’ve seen far worse on the couch in my office downtown—I just don’t want to make Benji feel awkward. The last thing he needs is his dad holding his cock in his bare hand, stroking him. Touching him. Teasing him until he’s writhing around in a puddle of?—
“Fuck!” Benji screams, sounding like a foghorn. “Fuck. Bennet. Dad. I can’t—I’m gonna come.” His eyes are glued to mine. “Make me come, Dad.”
Fire sizzles in my cheeks as I increase the speed of my strokes, dragging Bennet along for the ride. As for Bennet, his hard cock is pressed firmly between Benji’s cheeks. Only two thin layers of cotton hide them from each other, and neither of them seem to mind. If anything, they look like they want more.
I stare up at Benji as I increase my rhythm, tightening the hold I’ve got on Bennet’s hand. The effect is immediate, making Benji cry out.
“Come on,” I encourage him. “I’ve got you, and I’m never letting you go. That’s it. Come for Dad. Come for us, baby.”
His head falls back and he cries out a bastardized mashing of Bennet and my name that sounds a lot like “Badette.” His body is rocked with pleasure, back arched as he thrusts into our fists one final time, drenching the fabric of his briefs. He’s gasping for air, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I love you,” he says, but I’m not sure which of us he means.
Bennet’s still thrusting, and I want him to have this too, so while Benji’s lost in pleasure, I set my sights on Bennet.
“Nate,” he whispers as I touch his thigh. “Nate, please.”
“What do you need, little guy?” I ask, kissing the side of his face. “What can I do to help you?”
“Just look at me,” he says, staring straight into my eyes. “I want to see you when I come.”
We just gave Benji one of the best orgasms of his life, and I want Bennet to have that too. “I’ll watch you the whole time. I promise.”
He nods his appreciation before returning to the task at hand. He uses his grip to pull Benji back and forth on his lap, his cock grinding between Benji’s creamy cheeks. I’ve only seen it bare a few times, but my God, he’s got an ass sculpted by the gods themselves. I can only imagine how soft the cheeks must feel around Bennet’s little cock. How much pleasure Benji’s bringing the man who loves him more than anyone in the world—me included.
“You too, Dad,” Benji says, finally breaking his silence. “You’re just as hard as us. I want you to come too.”
“Son,” I croak, my dick pulsing against my thigh. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Bennet extends his leg at me, nodding. “Go on. Like we do with you. It’s okay.”
My eyes widen at the suggestion, because . . . absolutely not. These are my sons. My boys. I can’t rut against Bennet’s shin until I’ve left him sticky. What the hell kind of dad does that? A monster, not unlike the Bens’ monster of an ex-boyfriend. I could never. I would never.
“As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m going to have to turn it down.”
A look of rejection shines through his plastered-on smile, but it doesn’t last long, because Bennet’s getting close. His thrusts are short and deep, wedging himself between Benji’s cheeks.
“It’s not working,” he says, sounding crushed. It must tug at Benji’s heartstrings, too, because he repositions himself, creating space between them. Benji reaches down and unleashes Bennet’s cock from the confines of his underwear. It’s a sight I’ll never grow tired of. Bennet’s hard cock fits him perfectly. Not large by any means, but it looks custom fitted, just for him.
Benji’s hand curls around his best friend’s cock, then he looks at me, his eyes pleading. “Come on, Dad. Like you did with me a second ago. He needs us.” In a haze, I place my hand over Benji’s and help him stroke Bennet.
“I’m gonna come,” he breathes. “Fuck. Benji. Nate. I’m gonna come!”
Benji takes me by surprise when he lunges forward, smashing his lips against Bennet’s. His tongue darts into the open mouth, thrusting deeply like Benji’s trying to taste every square inch of Bennet’s mouth. It takes me a moment to notice Benji’s got both hands on Bennet’s jaw, cupping his face. The thing is, there’s something stiff in my hand, and I’m still steadily stroking it. I look down, horrified to find I’m making direct contact. I’m holding my son’s cock. His eyes slam open, locking with mine.
Then it happens. His cock twitches in my hand as shot after shot fires from the tip, painting both their stomachs and a good portion of my hand. His release takes me by surprise, because the sight of his semen makes all this real. I just jacked a man off at the breakfast table, for God’s sake. What the hell is wrong with me?
As if his penis is made of molten steel, I release the hold I’ve got on him and jolt up from my place beside them. The action makes the head of my cock thrust against the fabric of my pajamas, and I feel the tension building at the base of my spine.
“Oh, God. No. No-no-no,” I groan, my cheeks scalding with embarrassment. They can’t see me like this. I can’t make them watch me come. So, I back away, each move making the head thrust against my pajamas, providing me unrequested friction. With my back against the kitchen counter, my eyes bulge, because I might not be able to stop this train from leaving the station. I’m pleading with my eyes for my boys to look away, but they’re too busy staring at my fully-visible bulge.
They stand up from the chair, Benji’s half-hard cock still holding strong beneath his sticky briefs. Bennet’s dick is still dangling over his underwear, and the sight of it makes me shiver. They share a look as they lock hands and slowly walk toward me.
“Come,” Benji finally says.
Bennet nods in agreement. “Come for us. Come for your boys.”
“We do it all the time for you. You always make us feel so safe, Dad. Let us make you feel safe too.” They’re right in front of me, their breaths crashing against my body. As the tingles in my spine subside, I breathe a sigh of relief. I’ve escaped the threat of an unrequested ejaculation relatively unscathed, but there’s no time to celebrate, because Bennet places his hand on top of mine. I know what he’s going to do before he does it, and try as I might, I can’t open my mouth to object. It’s like I’m paralyzed by his touch. A modern-day Medusa, minus the snakes.
My sweet, shy Bennet guides me to my cock, placing my palm over my cloth-covered shaft, his thumb brushing against the head, making me whimper. It’s a needy, desperate sound, but thankfully, he doesn’t call me out on it, just continues stroking me by proxy. “You’re doing so good, Nate,” he insists.
“Such a good boy, Dad,” Benji adds, kissing the side of my face. “Come on. It’s okay. Let yourself have this. You’ve earned it.”
The way he talks, it’s like this is just some everyday occurrence. Like stroking your father figure’s dick through the protective shield of someone else’s hand somehow makes it less sordid. Honestly, maybe it does. I know a lot of the gay community are more open sexually than the straight patients I usually help. God knows my biological son, Tatum, gets off on stranger things. I’ve watched his husband finger him on an endless loop for the better part of two weeks. So, what’s the big deal if I masturbate in front of them? It doesn’t mean anything, because these are my boys, and they just want me to have release.
I pump faster and somehow Bennet keeps up with my movement. Each time I stare down at his hand, it feels like it’s him touching me. Like it’s him jacking me off. Him pulling me closer to the brink.
“Dad?” I look Benji right in the eyes, the way I ask him to look at me. “I love you.”
My eyes roll to the back of my head as I grip the counter, cum exploding from my dick, my cock twitching. These boys have dragged me over the edge with little more than a few kind words and some lewd facial expressions. I don’t know when my legs give way, but the next thing I know, I’m on my ass, staring up at the ceiling, my pajamas soaked. And, all the while, my boys are staring down at me with shit-eating grins.
What the hell did we just do?