The old Dodge pickup had just pulled out onto the dirt road. Billy Keller was at his pop’s pipe rack in a minute and picked up one and packed it. His member was already starting to swell before he got to the back porch and fired up. Standing there with smoke pouring out his already hirsute lips, he rubbed his hard boner through his work jeans.

At 16, Billy was already well on his way to be a spitting image of his old man. At 5’6” on a stocky 180-pound frame, bracketed by well-developed arms from years of lobster fishing with his pop, he already sported a thickening beard and ample body hair. He was even starting a bald spot that would eventually grow into the same pattern as his pop’s. Keller men matured early and Billy was no exception.

Billy was lost in the sensation of filling himself with the sweet smoke and letting it pour out in long jets out of his nose. He continued to rub his crotch as he smoked, the excitement building in him as he headed for the ultimate moment of climax. He didn’t hear the old pickup pull up out front.

Mike Keller walked into the kitchen and spied Billy on the back porch, hauling on one of his pipes for all he was worth and-pleasuring himself. It took him back to when he was Billy’s age and when he started his pipe habit. It too would make his pecker stand up when he smoked. He didn’t really understand why that happened, but he too would take advantage of that back then. What caught him by surprise while watching his son was that his member was slowly starting to gorge. Slowly stroking his thick, steel beard, he took in the fact that Billy was hauling on the pipe like he was born to it, not unlike himself. Finally he stepped out the back door.

“You coulda asked me, son. I prolly would have said yes.”

Billy turned toward the door with the old bent billiard clamped tight in his jaw. How long had Pop been watching him? Did he see him getting off on the pipe smoke? His cock was at full attention and he did his best to hide it. Fortunately, his would grow upward instead of out, which made hiding it a bit easier than for most. The look of disappointment on Pop’s face was worse than any punishment that was sure to arise. He prepared for the talking to or worse, as he handed the pipe to Pop.

“’Sorry, Pop. I was afraid you mighta said no. I didn’t want to go against your word.”

“I forgot my prescription and gotta head back to town. I figger after you clean up the kitchen, the baitbox could stand being cleaned out.”

With that, Pop grabbed his truck keys and headed back out. Billy went to work, cleaning up the breakfast dishes, and then the grim and odorous chore of cleaning out the baitbox. Along with the thoughts of doing wrong by Pop, Billy thought about what was it about watching Pop smoke, or when he smoked, that he was aroused by it. Billy had always admired how a pipe suited Pop, and how he wanted to be the same kind of man as him.

As Pop drove the small two-lane into town, he puffed languidly on the pipe that just a short time ago, he caught Billy smoking. His thoughts drifted back nearly 25 years ago, when he asked his pa to try one of his pipes. His pa showed him how to pack and light it, and it was a heady experience sitting on the same back porch smoking a pipe with his pa. Back then; it made a sensation in his member that he just chalked up to the notion of becoming more of a man that day. Again, his pecker was starting to assert itself as he drifted between images of his pa smoking, and now his son.

Pop pulled up the work-worn pickup in front of the A&P and went in to buy groceries for the next week or so. He placed the bags in the truck bed and crossed the road to the Rexall Pharmacy. Inside, after getting his blood pressure pills, he found the display of Dr. Grabow pipes, picked out a brown bent apple, and two cans of Borkum Riff Whiskey. He placed the bag on the passenger seat and headed back to the house.

Reeking of ripe fish, Billy took another shower and changed his clothes. He was craving another smoke, but Pop could be home any moment and he didn’t want to push his luck. The Red Sox were playing Baltimore and the game would be on soon. Pop would be home in time to watch it on the old Montgomery Ward console.

Billy helped Pop bring in the groceries, not noticing the bag on the truck seat. Pop had bought the usual staples as well as hot dogs, beans and the like for lunch while watching the game. Billy cooked and Pop acted like nothing had happened. Instead, he talked about whom he saw in town as the pre-game show ran in the background.

The two men sat down with their lunch and watched the ball game. After eating, Pop packed and fired up a pipe, first grabbing a beer before settling down with a smoke. Billy was fighting back the urge to ask for a smoke, but thought it was too soon after to take that tack. Pop could sense the tension of that from Billy, but made no move nor said anything beyond commenting on the game.

At the seventh inning stretch, Pop got up to hit the can. He went out to the truck and came back in with the bag of tobacco and the pipe. He handed the pipe and a can of tobacco to Billy.

“Yer on your own for more pipes, and ‘spect you’ll kick in on the tobacco. It’s gonna be a bit harsh, smoking a new pipe, but I figger you’ll break it in before too long.”

Billy could barely keep his hands from shaking as he opened the can and began packing his very own pipe. Once done, he picked up a lighter from the coffee table and fired up. It was slightly raw, but the sensation of smoking with Pop overrode that. He pulled a heavy puff and inhaled it. The sweet smoke felt good going down and then the satisfying exhale.

Pop got up to grab another beer. He came back with two.

“Here, son. I ‘spect this calls for some celebration. I see you handling that pretty well. I’m guessin’ you been at this for a while?”

Billy’s face reddened a bit.

“Only a few months, Pop. Just one or two bowls at first, but before too long, I needed more. Watchin you all these years, I figgered how to do it.”

Billy drank in the sensation of smoking a pipe and having a beer with Pop. He felt he grew up a bit that day. It felt so – masculine, and Billy was feeling more like the man he wanted to be, a man just like Pop. Billy was feeling a bit more, it was primal, the same feeling he was getting every time he picked up a pipe. The feeling was the strongest he’d felt yet, sitting there smoking with Pop. He wanted more, much more, but didn’t know what it was.

Pop was having his own feelings. Was it a new kind of kinship, a kind of bonding on a different level? He was feeling things he hadn’t felt since his pa passed years ago. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was a physical reaction. He was getting aroused by it, like he had when he first picked up a pipe. Maybe it was just the fact that Billy seemed to mature right before his eyes and it suited him well. Maybe that maturation and the stimulations that come with it were rubbing off on Pop.

Things seemed different to both men after that. Their bond as father and son was always close, but these days it seemed to draw them even closer. Something else was happening, something neither one, at first, could readily explain. For Pop, while he’d lie in bed having the last smoke of the day, he would strangely find the urge to pleasure himself, and of all things, it was the image of his pa and his son sharing a smoke with him that played while he jacked himself off.

Billy, on the other hand, was starting to clue in on what was happening, as he’d lie in bed, pulling on his pipe while pulling on his pud. One night, while coming back from the bathroom, the master bedroom door was ajar. Through the crack he saw his old man working his member hard as he smoked. Billy got back to his room and did the same, this time with a renewed energy. Billy started to put two and two together after that, and realized he was not only leaning toward being a homo, but also hot for Pop.

Pop took Billy to Boston on his 18^th birthday to see the Red Sox play a twilight double header against Cleveland. Billy was now legal to drink, at least in Massachusetts, and the two had a number of beers with their hot dogs as they smoked and watched the game. They decided to stay the night in Boston and had supper at a sports bar. The bar gave an extra pitcher and sang around a small cake for Billy when they found out it was his birthday. It was the end of a perfect father and son day for both of them.

It was a warm night as they walked to the hotel. When they arrived and got their room, the A/C hadn’t been on long so it too was warm. Both took turns in the shower and now sat in the room drinking more beer and smoking in their underwear, watching the late news. The room slowly began to haze while the two men smoked. As they sat there, buzzed on beer and hauling on their pipes, the inevitable began to express its-self. Both briefs were bulging as they watched the recap of the game.

Billy couldn’t believe what he did next. He reached over to Pop and placed his hand on Pop’s crotch and began to rub. Pop’s eyes went wide as Billy did that and in the next moment, he gave out an involuntary moan. Pop started drawing on his pipe heavy as the young man rubbed on his growing member through his briefs, puffing the new pipe Pop gave him that morning. This, THIS is what Pop had been wanting. Desire and guilt took turns battling in his head. This was his SON pleasuring him, yet it felt so good, so natural in a way. Desire was winning over incest.

Billy’s cock started to harden more and more as he rubbed Pop’s dick and balls. He reached into the briefs and pulled them out and started to pleasure Pop the way he did himself. He hauled on his pipe and exhaled huge jets as he jacked his pop’s dick, watching Pop’s balls bounce as he did it.

“Oh god, son! That feels so damn good! Yeah, stroke that son! Mmmm-yeah! Oh god…we…shouldn’t be doing this, son, but-damn! It feels so good! Oh-oh-hell yeah, son oh damn, I’m going straight to hell-oh damn, son-OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YA DOIN TO ME?! OH MY WORD, SON! YA CAN’T! WE SHOULD-OOHHH! AH-AAHH-AAAHHH OHGAWDDAM! OHGAWDDAM! AH-AAHH-AAAHHH! OH MYGA-JESUS-H-TAP-DANCIN-CHRIST, SON! AAAAAOOOOOOOHHHHHH! AAAAAAOOOOOOOOHHHH!

Billy got down on the floor in front of Pop and started licking the head of the uncut seven-inch thick cock. He licked all around the head and hesitated a moment, then swallowed the throbbing tool, slowly coming back up and swallowing again. He couldn’t believe he was actually giving his Pop a blowjob. He couldn’t believe how he himself was taking to it, it felt good, felt natural to please his Pop. He stared up at Pop’s face, smoke pouring out of furry lips with eyes half closed. Pop moaned around his pipe and writhed as Billy blew him.

Billy now had his own cock in his hand and stroked himself as he sucked and swallowed Pop over and over. The room grew thick with the heavy smoke pouring out of the ol man as Billy gave him his first blowjob ever. Pop’s mind raced with waves of erotic pleasure, overshadowing a crush of guilt and uneasiness of the dynamic that was playing out. Whatever was happening, he had no desire to stop the sensation of Billy’s hairy lips sliding up and down his shaft. Sex had never, ever felt like this. Another sensation was starting to build as his – boy blew him.

“Ah god son! I’m gonna…I’m gonna…I’m gonna…I’M GONNA! I’M GONNA! I’M GONNA! OHDEARGODINHEAVENAH-I’M GONNA! I’M GONNA! AH-AH-AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! JESUSFUCKINCHRIST, I’M GONNA! AWWWW-AHHH-AAAHHH-AAAWWWW-AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAHHHHHHH!

Billy pulled off in time to see Pop’s dick shoot load after load of cum all over his hairy chest, that now was heaving in great gasps as each wad splashed onto the pool forming just above his dick, pointing toward his face.

Billy picked up his pipe and fired it up. He stroked his boner taking in the sight of his Pop coming down from a climax. He’d never seen another man come before and it was a hot sight to see. In the next moment, Pop bent over and grabbed Billy’s dick and began stroking it like it was his. It was Billy’s turn to be taken to the brink and it wasn’t going to take much. Billy hauled deep on his pipe as the ol man stroked his hardening cock, harder than it ever felt to Billy before. His head reeled with the sensation of another man’s hand on his member, not just any man, but Pop, the man who he admired and wanted to be like. They were more alike now than had ever imagined.

Soon Billy was having that same low feeling in his balls work it way slowly as Pop jacked him harder and faster. “Oh yeah, Pop! Uh-huh! Uh-huh! Uh-huh! O YEAH, POP! UH-HUH! UH HUH! UH-HUH! OHYEAHPOP! UUUUUUH-HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH! UUUUUUH-HUUUUUUUUUUUUH! UUUUUUUUH-HUUUUUUUUUH! OHMYFUCKINGAWD! UHHHHHHH-HUUUUUH! OHYEAHPOPI’MGONNA!AAAAAAHHHHHH-HOOO-HOOO-HOOO-HOOOHHHHHHHYYEEEEAAAHHHH!

Billy sprayed all over himself, Pop, the floor as wad after wad shot out of his dick. It seemed endless as he orgasmed over and over, from pucker to pecker,staring right into the eyes of his ol man. Finally he was spent, gasping for air as he slowly came down. When Pop took his pipe and set it down on the coffee table, Billy reached over and planted his lips on Pop. Pop let out a quizzical grunt at first, but soon their tongues were writhing in each other’s mouth, probing, tasting, feeling the strength of man-to-man bonding on a whole new level.

Later that night, they spooned together on the big bed. A new day waited, with a new way of life ahead.

Continue reading...   Part II