Ashford didn’t realize he was jacking off until his hand was around his hard cock, and once he realized it, he didn’t want to stop. It would be better anyway, to get rid of some of this…pressure, in him. He hadn’t been horny like this in years, not even when he’d been with Carter’s mom…not that he’d ever really been…that attracted to her. Was that true, or was that new? He couldn’t quite tell. It was like someone had jumbled up the puzzle of his life and fit everything together differently, not the way it should have been, but somehow this arrangement made perfect sense. More sense, maybe, than the last one. He’d been gay. He’d always been gay, and in denial. He’d divorced, and…and when his son had come out, it was only natural to…to show him…
He came hard, all over the toilet. The shame was almost enough to make him puke again, realizing what he’d been thinking, how easy it had been for him to think it at all. He made his way to his own room, where he found his wardrobe had…changed. Not only did the more…normal clothes fit him now, even though they were a size larger than before, he found a new selection of clothing hanging in the closet, everything he recognized as the leather gear he’d ended up in by the end of the night, all of it well used and smelling of smoke–fuck, he could use a cigar. He bet Carter could use one too. He grabbed a couple from the humidor, clipped them, and lit one and then the other, holding them both in his mouth while he went downstairs (the bears always got a kick, seeing how many he could fit in his mouth at once) and Carter was in the kitchen, still naked, working on breakfast for them both. He turned around when he smelled the smoke, saw his dad with the cigars, and his cock went immediately rigid at the sight.
That was enough to make Ashford feel mortified. What the fuck was he doing, walking down here naked, with a couple of cigars in his mouth. He wanted to retreat…but didn’t. He walked over, handed a cigar to Carter, and then got on his knees, exhaling a plume of smoke over his son’s cock before sucking it down his throat.
Carter was frozen. The eggs were burning, and his father was smoking a cigar and sucking his cock at the same time. He pulled the pan off the burner, and then devoted his full attention to fucking his dad’s throat–he loved his dad’s blowjobs along with their first cigars of the mornings…didn’t he? Why did this feel so normal? Why did he remember doing this so many times before?
It had been like this, after his first time. Reality warping around him, the stash of cigars in his closet, smoking one out his window after his dad had left for work, like he always remembered he had. It was normal, even though he’d never done it before, and now, this was normal too. He knew he should feel ashamed, but he didn’t. He…loved it. They both loved it, how open they could be with each other…right? With his son’s cock finally in his mouth, it was the best Ashford had felt all damn day. He pulled away from Carter’s cock, opened wide and stuck out his tongue–Carter rolled the ash off onto his dad’s tongue, watching him quiver as he ate it. Carter loved the taste of ash, but he doubted anyone loved it as much as his dad did. He held it there a moment, savoring the heat, and then took it in his mouth, soaking it with his spit, and then went back to sucking, the ashy paste in his father’s mouth rough on Carter’s sensitive cock, some of the dark spit running down into his father’s beard.
“Fuck, Ash–fuck…” Carter moaned, tugging on his nipples until he unloaded into his father’s mouth, Ash drinking down all of his son’s cum, tasting the ash with it, and after a couple pumps of his own cock, he came again all over the kitchen floor, in front of his son. Both of them looking at one another, panting slightly.
“Thanks, boy,” Ash managed to say. Was his throat dry more from shame, or from the ash he’d just eaten without a second thought? But why would he feel shame? There…there was nothing wrong with this. He’d…wanted this. From the moment he’d found out that Carter was gay, his sexy, hairy, handsome boy…Ash had wanted this. First, just with inside himself, secretly…but he didn’t need it to be a secret anymore, how much he loved turning his boy into the cigar master of his fantasies.
“Dad–we…we can’t do that again, please don’t do that again,” Carter said. “I can’t do this to you.”
“Boy, I did this to you! I did this because I wanted this–we’ll keep doing it all we want, who cares what other people think?”
“No dad! That’s just–that’s what it wants you to think, how that place twisted you. I know you’re still in there. I know it hurts, but you have to fight it.”
“Fight it? That’s not what you wanted me to do last night, boy, all you wanted last night was for me to submit, and give in…and what, now you have second thoughts?”
His father sounded…hurt. Again, Carter tried his best to remember the night before, but he couldn’t–just little bits. Red light, a howl of pain, the feel of a lash taut between his thick hands… “I don’t remember what happened last night. I’m sorry…for what I did, I wasn’t…me. That wasn’t me. No one in there is who they are, really–that’s what that place does.”