Edwin took good care of himself, and was in fine shape for a man nearing sixty, but he was someone who had always considered a proper, masculine, appearance to be the most important quality a man could possess. He was dressed in his usual Saturday attire–a bit dressed down from his usual suit and tie for the weekdays. Clean shaven, hair maneuvered into position over his receding hairline, sweating slightly from the hot day outside. He loosened his tie and shut the door, walked into the house and noticed the furniture had shifted, and that a relative stranger was sitting in his chair, facing him, smoking a cigar.
“Who the fricken–” he said, and then looked a bit closer. It had been a long time, but the resemblance was there. “Todd?”
“Hey dad. How have things been?”
It didn’t…quite sound like Todd, though. In particular, that lisp was gone. Edwin had always hated the sound of his youngest boy’s voice, it had always given away the little faggot’s weakness, and it had implied weakness in Edwin as well. He’d never really cared who the boy wanted to fuck, but his sissy ways had undermined the family, in Edwin’s mind. He’d been happy to see the boy leave, and was pleased that the time away had apparently helped him man up somewhat. In fact, Todd looked…good. Healthy, clothes on his back, didn’t seem to be drugged out. “Son, I…wish you’d called, and told me you were coming.”
“And spoil the surprise?” Todd grinned around his cigar, and with one gloved hand, beckoned his father over to him. “Come on daddy, let your boy get a good look at you.”
Something in his son’s tone set Edwin’s hair on edge, but he walked over anyway, eyes locked on the gloved finger drawing him in. He could almost hear the slight squeak of the leather as he drew closer. He intended to stop a few feet away, but his feet kept walking him right up in front of his son in the chair, until the finger stopped moving. Before he could move away, his son’s other hand reached out and stroked the side of his thigh, and Edwin…shivered. It had felt wrong, being touched by that glove, but why? The hand took his own, and the feel of the leather against his fingers, it was so supple. He barely heard his son’s voice speaking to him.
“Go on daddy, drop those pants, and take off that shirt.”
Edwin did has Todd told asked, and when the leather glove brushed it’s way down his bare thigh, he realized why it had felt so wrong. It was because he’d had clothes on, of course. The leather…it felt so good on his bare skin, better than anything he’d ever felt. Todd kept stroking his father’s thighs and small gut, listening to him mutter and sigh as he undressed, until he was naked in front of him. “Looking as good as ever, Daddy–but looking good is all that ever really mattered to you, right? That, and always making sure you kept proper company.”
Edwin knew this wasn’t right, that he shouldn’t be naked like this in front of his son–especially not his faggot son–but everytime one of those gloved hands ran down his thigh or stomach, he lost a little more will to care–he just wanted to be touched. Todd tugged down on his father’s hand, and watched him wobble, and then sink to his knees in front of him. Lightly, he caressed his face with both gloved hands, watching his jaw go slack. “That’s good, daddy, that’s very good. Now, I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, and I want to see your real face around my cock first. Then we’re going out tonight, and we’ll see what sort of company you keep from now on, daddy.”
Todd unzipped the fly of his jeans with one hand, and pulled his cock free, shuddering as he did when the leather touched flesh. Helplessly, he watched his hand stroke his own cock, beyond his control, the shaft lengthening and thickening from a modest four inches to seven. Then, he took his father’s head in his hands, and pushed the dribbling head to his lips, Edwin happily accepting it, so long as the lovely leather remained against his skin a while longer. Todd took a long drag off his cigar, and released a thick cloud of smoke over his father’s head, making him cough. Edwin had always hated smoke, but he fought through it, eyes burning slightly, because the gloves wanted him to. Because Todd wanted him to. Todd pushed his father’s mouth off his cock, holding him in place with both hands, took another draw off the cigar and locked lips with him, pushing smoke deep into his father’s lungs, making him hold it until he coughed and gagged–then he rammed his cock back into his mouth and fucked his face roughly for a few minutes, barely giving him space to breathe.
“That’s right you fucker–your boy’s back in fucking town. Is this man enough for you, daddy? Is this man enough for you yet? Because trust me, I’m going to be more man than this little fucking town can handle soon enough, just you fucking wait and see.”
The gloves, he could feel them fighting him, and one peeled away from his father’s head and dragged his hand back towards Todd’s body, hauling up his shirt and grabbing his nipples, twisting and pulling at them. Todd groaned, feeling them grow larger and fuller the more the glove played with them, and with a sharp pain, he looked down and saw metal piercings had appeared in both of them. Apparently satisfied, the glove allowed his hand to return to Edwin, stroking his smooth cheek, feeling a thin layer of stubble grow under his fingers. There would be more of that, soon enough, Todd thought, thinking of his plans, of the plans of his gloves, and he filled his father’s mouth with a massive load, listening to him choke it down like the good whore he was going to be soon enough.
Bracken's Corner 