a4f101: HospitalityThis one’s for you, Chris ;)“Well, make yourself at home,” I sa
a4f101: HospitalityThis one’s for you, Chris ;)“Well, make yourself at home,” I said. “It’s probably not as good as being at a hotel, but…” “Are you kidding, bud?” he said, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “This is miles better. Besides, it saves the taxpayers a few bucks, and with an election coming up…” “Hell, there’s no way you won’t get re-elected,” I chuckled. “I doubt they’d begrudge you a couple nights at a Hampton for a big conference.” “Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice as his big mitt tightened on my shoulder again. “But even if they sprung for the Hilton, I think I’d rather be here.” I was glad to have him. I’d been down here in Florida just a few months, and didn’t really know anybody but my coworkers down at the station. When I heard he was coming down for the big law enforcement expo, I jumped at the chance to put him up in my guest room. I’d missed the big guy, and it was good to crack open a couple of beers and catch up on things back home in Virginia, and tell him some of the crazy stories about being a State Trooper down here in bugshit-crazy land. We were rolling with laughter before long, and it just felt real good inside, having him back around. He was looking just as good as ever, his blond hair still thick and full, even if it was a little more silvery than it used to be, cut high and tight the way he’d worn it for as long as I could remember. Looked like he was still hitting the gym just as hard, his shoulders and chest just as big and muscle-swollen as ever, his thighs thick and powerful in his jeans. He might have been 50, but he sure didn’t look it. I hoped I’d be able to say the same when i got to his age, for sure. “Well, if you ain’t got plans, I might get out of these clothes and get comfy, bud,” he said after our second round of beers. “Go right ahead, sir,” I said, showing him where the bathroom was before heading back to the living room. I had tomorrow off, and was thinking real hard about another beer. Thinking real hard about him, too. I choked a little on that third beer when he strolled back into the room ten minutes later, absolutely bareass-naked, that half-grin on his face as I spluttered and coughed. Fuck, he looked even better than I remembered. His belly had that little bit of middle-aged swell even the fittest man gets, but it looked damn good on him, as good as the thick blond hairs that curled over his big, mounded pecs and the still-prominent bulges of his abs. His ass was still high, tight and thick, dimpling deeply as he walked back to the couch, that big ol’ dick of his swinging comfortably between his powerful thighs. “Told you I was gettin’ comfy, son,” he said with that twinkle in his eye. Then he reached for my beer and took a long pull on it. I just stared up at him, beginning to throw a major bone in my shorts as I stared up at his awesome form. Never failed - seeing my Dad like this always did this to me, had since I was 16 or so, when we’d first gotten naked together for some real serious man-time. “Another good reason not to go to a hotel,” he said in that low, deep voice. “I get to spend some quality time with my boy again, nobody to disturb us.” Keep reading -- source link
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