I was hitchhiking from Boston to the Cape one summer day when the shiniest black Lincoln I'd ever seen stopped for me. I actually felt a little funny getting picked up by such a car, dressed for the beach as I was - all I had on was a pair of very short cutoffs and a T-shirt. I was carrying my bathing suit in my back pocket. I don't like being too confined when I travel. Anyhow, it did mean I had to be a little careful when I sat down so half my _c_o_c_k_ didn't hang out. Not that anyone would complain if it did - I was pretty well known on the beach as the hottest thing around.
Anyway, this car stops and I'll be _d_a_m_n_ed if it wasn't being driven by a chauffeur. The driver hops out before I can even reach the car and opens the back seat for me. Inside are sitting this dapper white-haired man and a pouty-faced gorgeous little number who is either the guy's son or a trick.
"Hello, there. My son Jason and I were just on our way to Hyannis and thought you might like a lift. My name is Warren Brady." So it was a father-son. That made it a little less complicated. "Hi, I'm Matt. I'm on my way to Provincetown."
"Well, we can get you halfway there. Jason, scoot on over here and let the young man in."
Jason scooted, sulking all the way. I climbed in, half carelessly to check the reaction. Daddy's eyes definitely took in the action, but Jason wasn't even looking my way. On closer inspection, though, this kid had me beat by a mile.
He looked about sixteen, just two years younger than me, with dark wavy hair, long black eyelashes and the fullest, most kissable lips I'd seen on a boy in a long time. His body was as lush as his lips - gorgeous tits poking little bumps in the front of his tailored knit shirt, that was so tight, the depression of his navel showed. He must have had jockeys on because his crotch was huge but all rounded and featureless, like a grapefruit shoved down the front of his well-pressed navy blue pants. The pants were skin-tight around the hips, though, and from the side the outline of the kid's ass looked as humpy as the rest of him. But what a tight-ass little snot. He moved to the far side of the seat like he was afraid he might catch something.
"You look so comfortable - I'm always telling Jason he should dress for the times, but he is as conservative as his mother." Had the old man's eyes glanced over his son's crotch and chest or was that just my imagination? This might be interesting to pursue.
"Yeah, man, on a hot day like today, I like to wear as little as I can get away with." I turned to the son. "I don't see how you can wear knit clothes in heat like this."
He didn't even glance at me. "In air conditioning, it's quite comfortable."
We rode in silence for a while. I let myself slide down an inch or two so the head of my _c_o_c_k_ peeped out, trying for a reaction. Papa started squirming, obviously keeping close tabs on my crotch. Equally obviously, the hornier he got, the more he glanced over the juicier parts of his son and heir. Finally I noticed him signaling the chauffeur.
A moment later, the temperature abruptly started climbing. Over the intercom the driver informed us that the air conditioning had gone out. Papa laughed a little nervously. "Well at least one of us won't suffer."
Even I was a little uncomfortable, though as the heat gradually rose to the 90E it was outside. Papa soon slipped out of his shirt and sat in Tshirt and slacks. Baby boy made not a move, although a thin line of sweat appeared on his upper lip.
I finally slipped off my T-shirt and wiped my face with it.
"Look, Jason, the young man has the right idea, why don't you slip off your shirt - you'd be much cooler."
"No, thanks. I can manage."
Papa fidgeted a while longer as I flexed my pecs and lightly tapped the end of my _c_o_c_k_ as I gazed out the window.
"Dammit, Jason, you will take off your shirt this instant!"
The boy flushed, pouted, hesitated, and finally and very, very slowly unbuttoned his shirt. As those buttons popped open, I thought Papa's eyes would bug for watching that ripe, luscious flesh exposed. As the boy reached the last button, Papa said, "Here, let me help." He feverishly pulled the shirt out of Jason's pants and over his head. I swear I've never seen such a lovely set of tits in my life as this kid's. And that velvety flat little tummy! No wonder Papa was hot for it. And the kid reacted not at all. Just stared straight ahead.
"You might as well get the pants off, too." I couldn't believe my ears. The guy orders his own son to depants. "Oh, it's OK." He said to me. "He's got his swimsuit on."
"Look, Papa, I'm not undressing in front of the chauffeur." Instantly the partition darkened. "Come on, come on, take `em off." Jason didn't budge. "If you don't, I'm going to have this young man do it for you - he looks a lot stronger than you. It's about time you stopped being such a tight-ass." Silence. "OK, young man, take them off him."
This I'll do with pleasure. I reached over and grabbed his belt.
"OK, OK. I'll do it," he said. Hell!
Slowly he unbuckled his belt and slid down his zipper. The mound in the front of his swim suit surged into view as the trousers parted before its onslaught. He arched his hips up off the seat and slipped the pants over his thighs. What an enormous basket. Papa looked close to apoplexy.
He bent over and removed his shoes and socks, then pulled his pants completely off and sat as before, motionless. Naked but for a small, very over-stretched swimsuit. The suit was one of those very soft cotton ones that isn't necessarily meant to get wet, but only to define a tan line. Every inch of the kid's giant _c_o_c_k_ was clearly outlined through the thin cloth arching up over what must have been an enormous set of balls. But the whole visible body was baby-smooth, golden tanned, and squeezable. Except for that expression on his face. There was a do-not-touch sign a mile high in those eyes that stared straight ahead and those bee-stung lips that were compressed with annoyance.
Papa's eyes were not straying from that quivering basket. Every time the car hit a bump, it shook like jello. There was obviously not a thing under that bathing suit.
I decided to give the old guy a little help. "Hey, kid, with a salami like that, you really oughta wear a jock, you know. You could get hurt swimming with a _c_o_c_k_ that big just hanging. And it sure doesn't look like that suit would give you much support."
The old man's eyes, as expected, almost glazed over with lust to hear his baby boy's family jewels talked about so freely. The kid just turned a little darker shade and compressed his lips.
"Yes, Jason, didn't you even bring a jock? You really shouldn't let everyone see all that, you know."
"Look - you wanted me to take my pants off - I did. So what are you complaining about?"
"But you said you had on your bathing suit. I didn't know you were going to just hang out of it like that. God, I didn't think it was so big already."
"Well, if you wouldn't talk about it so much, maybe it wouldn't bother you so much."
This effectively squelched conversation for a few minutes, during which time I had a chance to do a little surreptitious reconnoitering of the ass on this chicken. We were far enough apart for me to see him from the side, and the way that rubbery ass flared out from the tiny waist and made a perfect circle down to the thigh told me I just had to see more. I decided to try to get some action out of the old man.
"Uh, sir. I know it isn't my place, but don't you ever discipline this kid? He shouldn't talk to you like that."
The boy's lips tightened. "It's hardly any of your business."
But the old man's eyes lit up a little. "No, I think he may have a point, Jason. I've let you get a little out of hand, I think." He turned to me. "What do you suggest, young man?"
Hot _d_a_m_n_! "Well, to begin with, I think he should apologize to you."
The kid was not stupid. Seeing what was going down, he jumped in with an apology that was only slightly sarcastic. Defused, (I was hoping he would refuse and need "punishment"), I decided what the hell.
"And he should be punished for his insolence." The old man's eyes were slightly glazed. Breathing hard, he managed to gasp out, "How? Yes, but what should I do?"
"I think a good spanking ought to do it."
Jason's lips compressed even more. "You lay a hand on me and I'll break your arm."
"I rather think that's up to your father, sonny."
The old man was really excited now. "Yes, yes. He must be spanked. Come, Jason, you deserve something for your disrespect just now." He turned back to me. "How . . . how should we do it?"
"Well, first of all, you should order him to assume the position - that means he should go across your lap, ass up, for his spanking." I grinned at the hot little bitch as he sat there pretending to ignore us. The sweat on his upper lip was a little more pronounced now.
Papa was a quick study. "OK, Jason, you heard him. Get over here right now. Get across my lap. I'm going to give you the spanking you deserve, and I won't tolerate any more lip from you. Do you understand?"
The kid's lip curled. "Oh, come on, Papa. Are you going to follow the orders of some street scum? Can't you see he's just trying to make trouble and have a few laughs at our expense?"
But Papa wasn't that easy. "What I do know, Jason, is that you're sitting over there defying my specific orders. Do you hear me? You sit there dressed like some little slut, _d_a_m_n_ near naked with your big _c_o_c_k_ on display, too trashy even to wear a jock. And you call our guest street scum? What do you think people are going to be thinking when they see you like that on the beach? My, what a well-brought-up young gentleman? I don't think so."
The kid looked at his father in shock. "This is a perfectly decent bathing suit. Everybody's wearing them. I'm not showing any more than anyone else my age." He looked down at his lap, a little worried.
I laughed. "Well, you wouldn't be if you were built like other kids your age. But other kids your age aren't hung like some kind of overdeveloped horse. And with those giant balls to match, there's no way anybody on that beach is going to miss what you're showing off."
The kid looked like he might be going to cry. "No! You're just making that up."
Papa jumped in. "Enough! I don't care whether you believe it or not. Get over here now. I want your ass over my knee."
The kid was starting to be a little cowed. "Well, OK, but I don't want him to watch." He glared at me.
"He'll watch if I want him to. Get over here. Now!"
Still pouting, the kid reluctantly got up and moved toward his father. He paused, unwilling to actually assume the position. The old man reached out impatiently and , grabbing him by the arm, jerked him down over his lap. The kid tried to get back up, but his father held him down with one hand pressed firmly on the small of his back. The kid cursed and struggled, but only succeeded in putting on a spectacular show as his well-rounded cheeks bounced up and down, his big _c_o_c_k_ and balls slapping repeatedly against his father's thigh. Finally, the kid ran out of gas and lay there, panting, his ass in the air.
I jumped in, in case Papa needed a little guidance. "OK, now get that suit off him. This should be a bare-ass spanking. That's the only kind that does any good."
Jason stiffened immediately and started to get up off his Papa's lap. I grabbed his arm and twisted it up behind his back. "Come on, Mister, pull it off him." I forced the kid down over his Papa's lap, making his ass stick up high in the air for easy stripping.
"Let go of me," he snarled from somewhere near the floor of the car.
Papa wasted no time grabbing the soft little cotton bathing suit and quickly slid it down over the kid's ass, past his thighs, over his knees and off. What a sweet sight that was! He had these big smooth, soft, round cheeks - they quivered and shook as he tried to get away. I forced his head down even lower, watching avidly as his ass was forced up higher and higher, spreading the cheeks and exposing more and more of that deep crack.
Papa took to spanking like a duck to water. I gave him a few pointers as we went along - like alternating cheeks, and rubbing his hand against the ass after each spank to really burn it in.
After about 20 spanks, the boy's ass was pinking up nicely. And we'd got used to his yelling, so that was just part of the pleasure. I showed Papa how to spread the boy's cheeks in order to get at the insides of that deep crack of his - soon even the deepest part was as pink as the outside, and the kid's yelling got a little more frantic. Especially when Papa started spanking directly on Jason's little pink dot of an asshole. But then, when Papa rubbed those spanks in, the kid's cries started sounding almost like moans. At this point, he started really begging his father to stop.
"Please . . . OW! ... No more! Please . . . This is too weird. OW! OOOH! OOOH! Please . . ." Finally Papa started slowing down. Instead of just rubbing in each spank, he started running his hand over the full expanse of Jason's ass between shots. Soon, he stopped the spanking entirely and just started feeling up the boy's bottom - running his hand over both cheeks, and even continuing to spread them for full access to the kid's hot crack. He ran his finger tips over the little pink dot until Jason was moaning and wiggling like a bitch in heat - which, by now, he was really starting to resemble.
Papa caught my eye and raised his eyebrows, obviously a "What next?" signal.
"Well, this has been a pretty fair introductory spanking. In future, though, don't go so easy on him. He can take a lot more than that."
Papa smiled. "You're right. If he's ever disrespectful in future, now that he knows the consequences, he'll deserve whatever I choose to dish out to him. And it'll be a lot harder and longer than this was."
"Now, after a spanking, he should stay naked, with his bare ass all red and on display until you decide he's had enough. Normally, you could have him stand in the corner - that's the old-fashioned way. But for now, I guess he could just get up on the seat next to you there - on all fours with his ass toward you."
"OK, Jason, you heard the gentleman. Do it! But make that elbows and knees - I want to see that red bottom of yours sticking up high in the air, like the little bitch you are. Pretending to be so conservative, and all the time it turns out you're just a little _c_o_c_k_-tease!"
Jason may have been a little taken-aback by all this coming from his father, but he was a long way from real submission here. It took a little physical persuasion to get him into the right position, but a few minutes later, that red hot ass of his was up in the air (and jiggling with the movement of the limo) with his knees spread wide - all this only inches away from the lust-filled gaze of his father. Jason pouted and fumed, but his pouting didn't hold a candle to the impact of his red-hot ass, framing that humongous _c_o_c_k_ and balls, jiggling away with the movement of the limo. His hot young body had just become a plaything for his Daddy.
Papa was thrilled. He grinned at me. "Well, this is great. I really appreciate your advice. Maybe I can finally be a real father to this brat."