---
title: 'Part 9b'
sitemap:
    lastmod: '02-06-2026 17:09'
pp_protect: '0'
twitterenable: true
twittercardoptions: summary
articleenabled: false
musiceventenabled: false
orgaenabled: false
orga:
    ratingValue: 2.5
orgaratingenabled: false
eventenabled: false
personenabled: false
musicalbumenabled: false
productenabled: false
product:
    ratingValue: 2.5
restaurantenabled: false
restaurant:
    acceptsReservations: '1'
    priceRange: $
facebookenable: true
---

Date: Fri, 30 Jan 2004 13:12:58 -0600
From: gloryhole JUNKIE <gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com>
Subject: Whoring with Dad PART 9b

"Whoring with Dad"
Part 9: "In (Kevy) Like a Choo Choo..."
(or "Little Boys Love Trains")
Continued

By Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE
Gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com


WARNING & DISCLAIMER

Golly, if you haven't been warned and disclaimed by part nine of this story,
you're just one thick, depraved, nasty and terrific fella! But, let's review
the basics:

1.) Don't screw anyone under the legal age in your area
2.) Don't wag your man cock at anyone under the legal age in your area
3.) Don't entice anyone under the legal age in your area into your unmarked
van with intent to molest or otherwise sexually "diddle with".
4.) Don't ejaculate in your kid's Frosted Flakes (although, who's gunna
know, really)?
5.) Don't date a woman, have a whirlwind courtship, quickie wedding in Vegas
and set up housekeeping with her if your sole purpose behind it all is to
either engage in sex with her two little sons from a previous marriage
and/or simply to procreate with her in order to produce a lil'sex buddy of
your very own.
6.) Don't confuse photographic imagery with those lewd "pictures" in your
mind's eye (you know the ones).
7.) Don't haunt public restrooms, waterpark dressing rooms, playgrounds,
schoolyards, Boyscout campgrounds, or your son's bedroom with intent to get
your man rocks off.
8.) Don't publish, reprint, or otherwise use this story for any purpose
other than for which it was intended (the collective orgasm of thousands and
thousands of fellow like-minded men reading this).



PREFACE

Thanks to all of you who have been sending me wonderful e-mails relating
your own personal desires and experiences. My goodness, the things so many
dads are thinking and doing out there! And if there's one guy into his dad's
cock (judging from e-mails), it seems most every dude, given the chance,
would suck down a thick load of his own father's "daddymilk". No wonder guys
across America so excitedly gather in rec rooms for Super Bowl Sunday - what
an easy excuse to be huddled together on a sofa with other male family
members. Hey, it's the next best thing to those dads and sons out there who
watch televised pro wrestling together!

That last comment proved fact recently as I popped by a female co-worker's
house. As she dug around upstairs for papers, I discovered her macho husband
(its always the macho ones, ain't it?) with their ten-year-old son in the
family room glued to the t.v. set. I figured they must have been watching
some "game" but as I looked at the picture, I saw they were sharing the
visual delight of two humpy, handsome hunks of the WWF wrestlin' around in
shiny and amazingly bulging Speedos. As I looked closely, I saw both dad and
son were "conveniently" arranged as to hide their boners from one another
(or perhaps just from me).

Such sexually heated entanglements between fathers and sons exist all around
us - in real life. Although few of us ever get to witness up close (like
from an arm chair in a dimly lit corner of the kid's bedroom) some other dad
and son as they rumple up the twin-sized "Lord of the Rings" bedspread while
they fondle, suck or fuck each other, let's not forget the very fact that
their acts are hidden is simply part and parcel of the secretive process of
authentic dad and son sex.

After all, despite the wonderful luridness of the Internet, for every one
charmingly perverse dad who invites strange men into the room to "watch" and
take turns on the kid or who turns on the digi-cam as to capture that moment
when his thick penis snakes down his son's throat, there are thousands of
other dads out there doing the same who know better than to reach for
recording devices while diddling about with their little lads. In their
cases, nobody knows - not even those washing dishes in the kitchen just down
the hallway!

But that disappointment ought not to not detract from the fact that there
are -- right under our noses -- many other clues to the sexual attraction
between many biological dads and their own sons.

We see it when dads grin a bit too big as they videotape every second of
their son's swim meets or help out "a lot" at the kid's gymnastics night.

We see it as dads kick back with their sons when mom's out for the
afternoon. Why suddenly do they just lay about in their undershorts - just
cuz mom ran to the mall?

Lots of dads out there feel its vital they "teach" their boys to jerk off.
Of course, what boy can't discover his throbbing boner inside his own
underwear plays no role in dad's tutorials. Depending on dad's preferences,
this training,  under the guise of watchful, doting fathering, can begin at
any age. They're the dads who are very concerned that their son does it
right (okie-dokie...wouldn't want the boy masturbating his elbow after all).
And what training program doesn't have its own "visual aids". Invariably,
dad, tenting his own slacks just "has to" show the proper way to milk
oneself. Sure, we all know its just an "excuse" to open his trousers with
his son, maybe show his heir the family jewels (hard and oozing); teach him
something about the adult male anatomy (it's a dad's "job" after all).
Depending on when it begins, what better way to explain "sperm" and the
stuff "daddies" make...than to simply show him?  Under the auspices of sex
ed., loads of dads out there get their jollies and everybody's rocks off.

We see traces of it in those shirtless dads who coach Little League or
soccer - the athletic pops that can't seem to wait to show off their manly
physiques in bulging coach's shorts to their son and all his teammates. Dads
too comfortable flopping around in their sweatshorts as they rake the
backyard with their son; sons who remain unflappable as they wear matching
dad-son Speedos in the trucker motel swimming pool...

We see it when dads take their sons into their health clubs' "man
sex-friendly" men's lockerrooms - especially when there's a boy's lockerroom
available.

It's evident when dad campaigns hard (oh my!) to be his son's scoutleader.
Only a dad with a, er, "hidden agenda" volunteers to spend ten days in the
wilderness with his little son and a dozen other naked boys in tents and at
swimming holes.

We see it in those dads who led their sons by the hand around the mall,
showing them every available tearoom. Never with intent to "do" anything
sexual, of course (cough). But we other men know those dads are passively
introducing their sons to the wide world of available sex (well, that which
is available till the kid can get into XXXs).

Although most dads in a men's room with their son will do their business and
efficiently exit, (making sure the kid has left with no clue of the sex that
exists but an ogle away), there are those who know the score and get off on
introducing their sons to the all male sexual energy of a men's room.

Not too long ago, I attended a live theatrical event with several married
couples. One couple brought their sixth grade son along. Thirty minutes
before curtain, I headed to the men's room on a lower level. Of course, I
had to unload my bladder -- but since legitimate theaters usually offer
good, solid, "dick hanging out of trousers" gawking at the urinals as well,
I was set to scope out whatever might be showing in the "tiled mini theater
of men" in the basement.

As I headed down, my friends' son, who had been rather quiet and shy all
evening, suddenly blurted out that he had to go too. And so his dad, a
nice-looking suburban chap in his late thirties said he'd go along as well.
The three of us headed down the long flight of stairs and into the
not-too-busy restroom where I quickly occupied a vacant urinal and unzipped.
The dad stood at the urinal to my right and we briefly chatted about the
dinner we'd enjoyed at the restaurant earlier (as we stood along side one
another with our meaty sex organs jutting out of our flys). I figured
nothing much would occur sexually, since it was a friends and family night
and his pre-teen youngster was but five feet away. So after urinating, I
stepped away, with nasty intent to flash whomever might be in line next as I
shoved my meat back into my dress slacks and zipped up.

I thought the sixth grader son would be behind us waiting to use the urinal
(since I noticed he didn't pee in a stall as do some kids that age - often
kidney shy at age twelve). Instead he's standing at the sinks, before a huge
mirror, washing and re-washing his hands. I thought to myself, "Didn't he
say he had to go?" So I smiled as I took the sink beside his and said, "Did
you go?"

He shook his head excitedly with this strange little smile on his face.
"Naw, I don't hav'ta go...", he said oddly. He continued to wash his hands.

That's when I recognized the voice and face of a budding tearoomer. As I
stood to his right at the mirror, I could see what he had been looking at
the whole time. The urinal directly to the left of the sinks had no modesty
screen so as one looked into the mirror, one had a perfect and unobstructed
view of the man standing at that urinal. And the same very tall, rather
distinguished looking man in an expensive leather coat had been planted at
that urinal from the time we'd entered the place. I almost gasped myself as
I plainly could see his horse-sized shaft in semi-erect state jutting out of
his slacks. He lightly held the shaft, showing off its length, then would
let it thicken. Not a drop of urine was being dispensed from his impressive
uncut hose, of course. Clearly he'd been getting off on surreptitiously
showing his forty-something meat to an appreciative little kid through the
reflection in the mirror.

It was such a perfectly brazen (and spontaneously unexpected) "restroom
perv" moment that at first even I was a little shocked. I watched the kid
barely grin at me in the mirror as his eyes darted back and forth between my
big crotch and the stranger's penis being wagged at him. Here was this
hungry little cutie standing between two grown men, one a total stranger to
him wagging a cock at him -- all while the kid's dad was only a few feet
away. But then I chuckled to myself as I remembered how kids that age think
adults don't know what they're up to. Or they think they're being way more
discreet than they actually are. I didn't want to traumatize the youth by
making him aware that I was aware of what he was doing - let the kid have
his jollies, I always say. So I stepped away from the sinks as his dad took
my place.

I thought that would be that. But instead, that's when it got even more
interesting. The man in the leather coat was still occupying the urinal,
dick hanging out for observation. The kid was still re-washing his hands and
his dad could not have missed what was going on (as it was plainly and
erectly evident in the mirror). As I stepped to a large mirror near the exit
and combed my hair, I could see from that reflected viewpoint as both dad
and son washed their hands for an excessive amount of time looking into
their mirror. I don't think the dad was necessarily interested in the
stranger's big penis but he was clearly allowing his young son to ogle the
huge cock for as long as they could get away with. In fact they were so
long, I had to exit (or else risk looking like a tearoom cruiser...heaven's
forbid!). Why do some dads and sons take so long to do something?

I ascended the stairway back to the lobby and perhaps a full ten minutes
later, our party was once again joined by this dad and son. What they were
doing in that basement restroom for an additional ten minutes, one can only
guess!

So dad and son incestuous play exists all around us, everyday. As they say:
If you're looking for it, you'll find it.

We often see adult dad-son sexual heat pique, strangely enough, as weddings
approach. Middle aged dads and their soon to be hitched sons are allowed to
share their lustier manselves with one another as bachelor parties take
place. Suddenly its okay to see your "old man" with a tenter in his slacks
as he watches the bachelor party strippers give out lapdances to his son and
all the young well-built ushers. Or as some blowjob gal is hired for the
party, which quickly turns into a (bought and paid for) gangbang, hey, the
groom and his dad are just two more big, drunk cocks screwing those same
rouge-red lips and shooting sperm onto her face. "Come on, dad! We need your
load...one more and it's a hundred guy bukakke!"

Golly, good thing there's all that liquor the guys can blame in the morning
when they get to the church!

And during family vacations, doing the classic Route 66 American road trip,
what dad and son can evade the sexuality of rest area men's rooms? No use a
dad denying what goes on in those tearooms as he takes his boys into them.
Hearing the clunking of belt buckles on the grimy floors; smelling
god-knows-how-many years of mens' semen in the air; walking into a place
with gaping gloryholes between stalls and urinals...heck, before most sons
can ask about the birds'n'bees, they have to ask, "Why is there a huge hole
in that wall, daddy?"

And then there are those dads and sons who just happen to "fall into"
something sexual with one another - while lazing about watching the Spurs or
when in a pup tent on a hunting trip or while sharing the bathroom in the
mornings. Things just "happen".

Most dads and sons are sexually passive in their approach - spying on one
another in the bathroom or lightly groping a bulge as the other sleeps. You
have dads who beat off thinking about their kid's round, small bottom
(although you'll never get them to confess to that). And you have a slew of
lads overly interested in what that huge lump is inside their dad's business
slacks. You have dads who secretly shoot cum in their son's formula and sons
who shoot cum on their dad's toothbrush!

And yet some delight in finding their perfect "sex buddy" within their dad
or their own son. Built in fun; built in secrecy. Who better to enjoy and
trust than your own dad or son? Playing around; discovering and exploring
the inner homo together; cruising places they might otherwise be too afraid
to venture into alone.

Periodically, under the rouse of "being horny" or "growing up" or whatnot,
dads might take their boys to a whorehouse. An easy excuse to see the kid
cream inside a slut - right before dad mounts her using his boy's deposited
semen as lube.

And others are more direct, taking in a straight porno flick together at a
dark XXX. Taking two seats in the back row, the kid thinks dad's being
discreet - but dad knows better. Staring at the screen, both spread their
legs wider (son following dad's lead) as men on either side grope and unzip
them. It's still just a "guy thing" they tell themselves in order to justify
it - especially since neither ever talks about what they've done afterwards.

Or some will hit a bookstore together, openly perusing hardcore porno
together. One thing leads to another as they decide to scope out that back
arcade area together. Dad's been there before so he knows the score, but
want to give his son a place to go whenever he gets that itch, too. And he
knows if the kid's hooked on sucking, even if he doesn't blow him that day,
who knows who might be manning that gloryhole afterwork next Tuesday? So
those dads happily show their son that special booth with the gloryhole,
letting him go first. And when the kid's "done", unfailingly such a dad
quickly swaps places -feeding the unknown cocksucker a second load of
related DNA fluids.

Then there's the smaller minority of dads and sons who go, um, how shall we
say -- "Whole Hog" as they delve into hardcore queer cock'n'cumpig sex with
one another. Dads who train their sons' little butts to take any and every
dick and cumload at an early age. Sons who are employed as rabbit fuckin'
tops by their dads' hungry mancunts. Dads who make their son's big boners or
tiny puckered buttholes into "porn stars" on amateur video. Sons and fathers
who hit men's rooms and sex clubs together. Dads who want to watch their boy
suck off every man in the XXX theater. Sons who like to stand along side
their dads as they let men kneel before them and suck their dicks. Dads and
sons who spend afternoons at bathhouses or the adult bookstores sharing
their family jewels with a whole bunch of strangers. There are even those
dads who love collecting a twenty here and there from men in parking lots
who give it in exchange for ten minutes use of his son's young body. Those
same dads tell these men, "Five bucks more and the kid'll swallow...".

This last variety may be the rarest but they do indeedy exist. And its from
first-hand experience in one of those sorts of, oh, lets just call 'em
"extra close" families that our tale, "Whoring with Dad" continues...


"Whoring with Dad"
Part 9: "In (Kevy) Like a Choo Choo..."
(or "Little Boys Love Trains")
Continued



By Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE
Gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com




By five a.m., I'd had a glass of juice and a Pop-tart, had kissed m mother
goodbye from where she lay in half-slumber in my parent's bed and already
seen my dad's big cock and hairy torso! It was shaping up to be quite the
perfect day.

Quietly, my dad grabbed our two duffel-style overnight bags and we slipped
out the front door to push for the elevator. It would still be a couple of
hors before our housekeeper even arrived for work. I felt my dad and I were
on some expedition but now that we weren't dealing with fish anymore, I
wondered what the biggest catch of our day might be at the Lawson.

It was still somewhat dark outside as we made our way to the lobby. Big Bill
was just coming on duty, relieving this young guy I rarely ever got to see
since he had the ten p.m. to five a.m. shift monitoring the lobby and doors.

"'Morning!", Big Bill said in a booming, happy voice. "You two are certainly
up and at'em this morning...what are you doing? Running away from home?, he
jested as he grabbed one of the duffels from my dad.

Dad laughed and said, "No, we've just got a special couple of days ahead of
us."

"Oh, boy's only trip, I gather?", Bill Bill said happily. "Those can be the
best kind!"

"Well, just an overnighter, really", dad replied, leisurely since we didn't
really need to be in any hurry since we weren't actually going up to
Waukegan after all.

"You two look like you're going to the deep woods", Big Bill joked. Obvious
curious as to where we were headed.

"Well, not the woods", dad replied. "But somewhere with water's all I can
say."

"On a boat trip?", Big Bill pressed on in a jovial manner as he looked at
me.

"No," dad said.

"You're not going fishing since you haven't any rods with you.", Big Bill
said assessing our situation carefully.

"Nope, not quite fishing", dad said.

As though I'd lost my mind, I was possessed to blurt out proudly, "We're
going to the Lawson for a whole day and whole night and a whole day
tomorrow, too!" As soon as I aid it I knew I'd made a mistake. But I was
just so happy and excited to be going back to the Lawson. Maybe I could
again play with those men at the pool!

Big Bill stood before us, a robust, tall man in a classic doorman's uniform
-- his graying hair neatly trimmed in a military cut beneath his doorman's
hat. His piercing gray eyes looked right at me. "The Lawson? You mean the
Lawson on Chicago Avenue? The Lawson Y?"

Dad gripped my hand tightly as if to slightly chastise me for giving away
our little secret. But he didn't seem too mad since it was just Big Bill I'd
told.

"Well, we've had a slight change in plan. We're going to be camping out
there for the night, if you will", dad explained. "Don't tell his
mother...she thinks we're taking in a seminar of trout."

Big Bill smiled knowingly as he winked at my dad and said, "I think I got ya
covered, don't you worry none. So you'll both be there overnight? In the
rooms, I mean?"

Dad just nodded.

"I didn't know they little men like you in Kevy at the Lawson", Big Bill
said. "Although I shouldn't have put it past them...you know Larry over
there?", he then asked my dad.

"I think so", dad replied. "Is he the balding fella who works the room check
in?"

"Yeah, not the locker room check in guy, that's a another wild man. But
Larry is in charge of the rooms", Big Bill said. "Great guy...extremely
great if you get my drift. 'Known him for ten years. I know he'll be happy
to see little Kevy there."

"Well, that's good to know", dad said demurely.

"You're a specially lucky little fella, Kevy", Big Bill said as a squatted
before me. "Not many little guys your age get to go to the Lawson, let alone
go onto the rooms floors. You just might be the first in all its history!"

I grinned big, so proud to be such a lucky little boy.

"I'll have to get myself a room there after my shift today", Big Bill joked
to my dad. "You're going to have him there all night, right?"

Dad was just able to nod when there was some slight commotion at the front
glass double doors. The sun was just rising but we could see someone holding
something was jiggling the handle of one of the locked doors. Until six
a.m., all persons had to be buzzed into the lobby.

Big Bill went to the front doors and asked what the person wanted.
Apparently the person could see us clearly as were under bright lights in
the marbled lobby. Big Bill turned and said, "It's someone named Jesus...for
you", he said directing his comments to my dad.

My dad walked to the front as Big Bill re-joined me at the desk. "Is that
that husband of the maid you had? The one who took you to the zoo not too
long ago?"

I looked at the shadowy figure at the doors and recognized it as Jesus...and
he was carrying the wicker Moses basket. "Yeah," I replied softly, wondering
why he'd be around here after Maria had died.

"Yeah", Big Bill said with a sneer. "I thought I recognized him".

As we watched but could not hear what my dad and Jesus were talking about,
Big Bill and I could see Jesus practically shove the Moses basket into my
dad's grasp and then dart off to the left somewhere.

Dad closed the front doors, holding the wicker container as he turned to us
with a dumb-founded expression.

"That sonofabitch just left us with this!", he said lifting the blankets of
the bassinet to show us little baby Tomas laying in a huddle of cheap,
slightly soiled blankets.

"Want me to call the cops?" Big Bill offered as he joined my father to look
in at the half-sleeping baby.

Dad quickly said, "No, no...he said he had to go to work and nobody was at
the apartment to watch out for Tomas this morning."

"Where did Jesus' mother go to?", I asked. "And his brothers?"

"'Seems they went back to Mexico two weeks ago for a short visit but haven't
been heard from again."

"That's terrible", Big Bill said. "They left this baby alone with just that
illegal pimp?"

Since I didn't even know the word "pimp", it went right over my head at the
time.

"Seems so", dad replied. Both he and Big Bill seemed to know something more
than they let on about Jesus.

I wandered up to where my dad placed the Moses basket onto a large foyer
table in the middle of the lobby. I looked inside and saw Tomas open his
eyes and look around. Last time I had seen Tomas was as Jesus stood us at
the sinks in the men's rooms john washing off the collected "wild shots" of
thick white semen - all the stray globs of anonymous loads of goo that had
fired off or drooled toward the floor as I'd sucked dicks through the big
gloryhole - but had instead landed all over Tomas' face and lips. That last
time I saw Tomas' face, he was lapping up all the thick white jelly off his
hands that coated them like mittens faster than his father could splash
water on them.

But he'd seemed none-the-worse for wear. And I knew daddymilk was good for
growing bones. Jesus simply made me promise not to tell Maria why Tomas'
t-shirt and blue blankie were so soaked with water- the only way to get out
globs of semen from them.After leaving the t-room at the zoo, we promptly
met Maria and headed home, and since she wasn't feeling well, I barely got
to say a goodbye to the baby.

Now here he was just a few weeks later laying in the same slightly fraying
wicker bassinet and blankies more soiled than ever with mysterious stains. I
only later found out from Big Bill that Jesus was making quick cash by
bringing Tomas behind dumpsters in the financial district during the
afternoons. Just a couple of twenties would buy a businessman on his lunch
hour fifteen minutes alone with Tomas between a huge city dumpster and a
brick alleywall.

But at the time, as we were planning to head to the Lawson Y, I didn't know
any of that and was happy to see Tomas' eyes grow big as he grinned almost
toothlessly. He almost seemed as though he recognized me! I rubbed his belly
and he cooed and laughed some more.

"Seems you've got a way with him", dad said to me.

"What are we going to do with him?", I asked.

"I don't quite know", dad replied. "Jesus, that bastard said he'd come
around on Saturday sometime. That he had to work these next two days..."

"You could leave him here with me", Big Bill offered. His enthusiasm was
noble but confusing. Why would a middle-aged doorman want to watch a baby
all day, I thought to myself. I mean, Big Bill was super nice and all but
how could he open doors with a baby in tow?

"Maybe mom will figure out something...", I started to say.

"No", dad said. "She has to go to the bookstore these two days ...all day.
And besides, its so early, she's probably sound asleep."

"Then maybe we should call like an orphanage or something", I said.

Dad and Big Bill laughed. That was the last place on their minds. "Well,
he's not an orphan...yet", dad said.

"And Jesus did say he'd be back...Saturday, right?", Bill asked.

"Exactly", dad replied. "If he doesn't come back by Saturday night...then
we'll go from there."

As they spoke, I rummaged around inside the bassinet and found a bottle that
was cloudy from not enough washings and a half-filled jar of apple baby
food.

"At least he seems old enough not to be on formula", dad said as he watched
watch I was doing.

"Mashed banana and water should be enough to keep this little one at least
going through Saturday", Big Bill added. "Easier when they aren't dependent
on mama's bosom anymore."

"How old was he?", dad asked me.

"I think he was like ten months when we went to the zoo"< I said. "So eleven
months? The don't need milk at eleven months anymore?"

Big Bill chuckled big as I said that. "Well, you can always feed them
milk...just they can drink different kinds of milk once off mama's."

"Cool!" I said. So he can drink like chocolate milk?", I asked.

"Well, Big Bill didn't mean chocolate", dad explained. "Its just that we
don't have to worry about special formula. He was drink the sorts of milk
you can drink."

As we spoke, the sunrise softly filled the lobby in natural light.

"Well, you'd better figure out what you're doing with the little guy then",
Big Bill said. "As I said, I'd be happy to watch him for these two days...or
maybe you should take him along on your overnighter at the Lawson?", he
added with a devilish grin.

Dad was thinking.

"Trust me", Big Bill said. "If Larry's there...he'll let you do it."

"Think so?", dad asked. "I don't want them thinking I'm turning the fifth
floor over there into some daycare center."

"What's the harm?", Big Bill asked in a conspiratorial tone. "You could
almost sneak this little one in inside a duffel bag! And he doesn't seem to
be a cryer."

Dad thought some more and looked at me. "Well, what do you say, Kev? It was
supposed to be just our dad and son overnighter. Its up to you."

Then I thought as the ball was tossed into my seven-year-old court. "I
dunno...its okay with me I guess. I mean, Tomas has nowhere else to go...and
he's pretty good. And he's a boy so he can get in..."

"Well, then its set!", dad exclaimed. "Tomas comes with us. "Watch out
Lawson!"

"And if they deny him entry", Big Bill offered. "Bring him back here I'll
figure out something with him."

With that Big Bill grabbed our duffels as dad carried the Moses basket with
us out to the parking garage where he helped us load the car. My dad knew
we'd have to take the car to make it seem as though we actually were going
up north.

Instead, of course, we drove just the few blocks to Chicago Avenue. We
pulled into a city parking garage beside a fancy hotel. Carrying everything,
we then tromped three blocks over, passing the cathedral and then darting
across the street to the Lawson.

The streets were still quiet at five thirty in the morning. We'd seen some
delivery trucks and a few cabs here and there on Michigan Avenue but
generally the city was just slowly coming to life on this Thursday morning.

The Lawson looked tall and gloomy in the early a.m.. But I was all excited
to get a chance to play some more inside! We pulled on the front doors until
we found the only one that was unlocked. The lobby was empty and cold and
dark as we wandered up tot he large reception desk. No one was in sight.

"Hello?", dad called out in a hushed voice. It was almost as if we'd entered
a vacated church or something!

He looked at me and winked as we waited and waited some more.

"Hellooooo?", dad called out again comically. "Anybody home?"

We stood at the tall counter, over which I could not see. But then we heard
the rustling of newspapers and the clunk of a chair. Perhaps someone was
around after all.

Before I could see him, I hear a man's voice say, "Good morning...can I help
you?"

"Good morning", dad said. "You wouldn't happen to be Larry, would you?"

There was a slight pause as the man said slowly, "Yeah...why?"

"Oh, just our doorman, Bill MacIntosh told us to ask for you if you were
here.", dad explained.

"Oh yeah? Wild Bill H'Cock?", the man said in an easier voice. "How's that
side of beef doing. Haven't seen him in two...three months."

"Oh, he's fine", dad said. "Says to say hi to you."

"So what can I help you with this morning?", Larry asked as he seemed to
notice me for the first time. "Hi little fella."

Dad said, "Oh, this here is my son Kevin" Then he did something that
surprised me. "And this is his little brother, Tommy.", dad added as he
lifted the flap of the bassinet to show Larry the baby's face.

"Well, good to know you", Larry said with some sense of recognition
suddenly. "Were you here not too long ago?", he asked looking directly at
me.

I smiled and nodded big.

"Yeah, I think I heard about that from some of the guys.", he said with a
lecherous grin.

Dad shifted the bassinet from his left hand to his right one as he explained
we'd need a room for one night.

Larry's eyes widened as he heard the request but the grin on his lips
suggested something else. "A room, uh? For you?"

"And these two here.", dad added.

Not wanting to make this harder than it was on my dad, Larry asked no more
questions but instead opened a book and scanned its entries. "I can give you
two rooms, not right next to each other...if you'd rather do that."

Dad considered it for a moment.

Larry leaned forward across the counter a bit and said in a low voice, "Pay
for just one room and the other's free...since they're so little."

You sure?", dad asked.

"Yeah!", Larry said enthusiastically. "We're slower here mid-week...and the
rooms aren't all that big anyway. Just a twin bed, clean though, a sink and
a small window. Big communal bathroom with showers on each floor."

"Well", dad hesitated. "I'm not sure..."

"Perfectly safe", Larry said noting dad's quandary. "Nobody gets up there
except men registered with me here. Give you some space, too. I can put
their room on the same floor."

Dad looked down at me, "Does that sound okay with you, champ?"

I was just so excited to be at the Lawson I nodded without giving it a
second thought.

"Okay then," dad said. "Two rooms but try to see if they can near next to
each other."

Larry grinned big as he looked through the book. "None right next-door to
each other. Got one on the fifth floor and another down the hall...six doors
down. That okay?"

Dad nodded as Larry started the process of checking in. "In fact, I'll have
you just sign for Room 503...don't even need to log the other room, what you
say about that?" Larry was ten steps ahead of us. "That way, there's no
record."
Dad seemed a bit more relieved. "Uh, yeah...that would be great."

Larry went about getting dad's membership info as he chatted away. "Why let
anyone know things they don't need to know, right?", he said. "I'll just put
a booked hold on that second room so nobody thinks it's available."

Dad paid cash for the room, again offering to pay for the second room.

"No", Larry said. "If you're a pal of Bill's, don't worry none about it."

Then looking at me again, Larry said, "You brought a whole duffel bag, huh?"

I nodded and muttered "Yeah."

"You won't be needing much here", Larry said. "Men don't wear much on the
upper floors...and nothing in the pool."

"I know", I said, slightly trying to hide my enthusiasm.

"Ah, but you already know that," Larry said with a grin. "You are the cutie,
aren't you?"

I blushed as my said winked at me. "He's my little champ, that's for sure."

"Here's the keys for the rooms and these other keys here are for two lockers
in the men's locker room. I trust Tommy won't be needing his own locker,
right?" Larry said me.

I giggled.

Dad took the keys as Larry said, "Lets get you all upstairs before the lobby
starts getting busy. 'Don't want too many men asking questions."

He pointed to the non-public elevator accessible only after checking in. It
was an elevator that exclusively serviced both the locker room/swimming
pool/work out gyms floor as well as all the nightly rental floors. Anybody
getting on this elevator could get off on any of the floors but only after
checking in.

We rode up to the fifth floor, which was actually more like the seventh
floor because eof the soaring height of the second-level gymnasium.

I recall asking my dad why it was so dark in the hallways. He just chuckle a
bit, apparently knowing something. The dimness of the hallways on the room
floors created something of a gay bathhouse environment - dark hallways
allowing men to feel freer to stroll around, looking for available sex
buddies by peeping into rooms with doors left ajar.

On a lower level, the bare bulbs in the large, windowless locker room made
for a "manly" basement feeling - even though we were a couple of floors
above the sidewalk. A constant chill ran through the place throughout the
entire calendar year. It was the effects of too little heat, too much
tiling, and the contrasts of temperature fluctuations on male flesh, I
suppose. When I'd say to my dad that I was cold, as we'd stand naked at our
lockers, his standard response would be that we should go hit the sauna
then.

And it was clear why men never complained about the chill. It was this
constant cool dampness of the place, which in fact went a long way to
silently encourage the men to gather together in order to enjoy the warmth
of their collective physiques under the showers or within the sauna. It gave
men had an easy excuse to hang out in the warmth of the steamroom all
afternoon, claiming it was "comfortable". Of course, they'd always ignore
the fact that the "Lawson climate" always led to homosexual group sex.

I recall my fascination with the large sauna more than anything at that age.
But being less than fifty pounds at the time, I could barely stay in there
much more than five minutes at a go. My dad would take my towel, as he'd
send me into the sauna, telling me he'd be right across the hallway if I
needed him. There was a clock on the wall in the hallway that one could see
through the small window within the sauna and he'd tell me or ask a man in
there to let me know when five minutes had gone by.

I was told I could stay in the sauna for five minutes but would then have to
cool off in the hallway for at least another five minutes before I could go
in again. Some men would get a chuckle out of how this seven-year-old boy,
obviously curious about their penises and muscles, was so determined to keep
going in and out. They recognized my fascination with them and with each of
my re-entries, they'd get more comfortable with my presence in there. In
fact, men who'd at first have their towels wrapped around their waist,
would, by my second re-entry, always have them removed and their legs spread
as they'd recline inviting my eyes to feast on their adult physiques.

My dad would sometimes go in with me but often would send me into the sauna
alone while he'd cross the narrow corridor to enjoy the vast steamroom. I
loved the sauna at that age more than the steamroom because I could see all
the men and their bodies so clearly in the sauna. In fact, I got "lost" once
in the thick white mist of the steamroom and accidentally grazed my little
my hands onto the hairy lap of some man I could not even see in there!

So I preferred the sauna where on one of many subsequent visits, a stranger
with gray hair and a mustache told me I could stay five minutes longer -- a
whole ten minutes -- if I stayed on the lowest bench where the effects of
the heat were lesser. He gave me the advice because he wanted me to stay
longer. I knew that because he smiled the whole time, his uncut penis
thickening, as he knew I was openly staring between his widespread legs.

But this day was my first time on one of the rooms-by-the-night or by the
week floors. It was very quiet as we padded down the linoleum-tiled corridor
to Room 519. Dad inserted the key and opened it. Inside was exactly as Larry
had described. A small, six by eight foot "cell" type room with just a clean
twin bed, a deep shelf desk mounted to a wall beside it, a small white
porcelain sink with mirror and a narrow, tall window. Nothing to write home
about but it smelled clean.

"I think you and Tomas will camp out here for the night", dad said looking
around and placing Tomas' bassinet on the bed. "My room is 503...same side
of the hallway so you can remember..."

I peered out the window and saw it looked out onto an air duct shaft, not
quite a room with a view.

"Let's leave Tomas here a sec and see my room.", dad said as he shifted my
small duffel bag on his shoulder and his into his left hand.

We locked the room before dad and I quietly wandered down the very long
corridor, past a set of double doors, which led to a huge room with toilets
and showers. Two doors beyond, we stood at Room 503. Just as dad inserted
the key, some man emerged from the room next door, Room 501. My eyes almost
popped out of my head as this man in his mid-thirties walked passed us,
naked as a jaybird with a huge erection pointing his way to the bathroom. He
seemed startled to see us but was obviously just rising from a sound sleep.
He looked at us with half-shut eyes and mumbled "Hey...mornin'
wood...sorry..."

He walked past us and I turned my head to see a huge tattoo of a soaring
eagle covered his muscular back. He then disappeared between the double
doors as dad pushed open the door to his room.

"Looks the same as mine!", I said looking around at exactly the identical
room s 519. I ran to the window and looked out noticing the only difference
was that dad's room overlooked the roof of a neighboring building instead of
an airshaft.

Dad tossed his bag onto the desk and mine into a corner. He then wrote down
his room number on a piece of paper from a small notepad inside its drawer.
"Here", he said, I'm writing down my room in case you forget which is mine.
I'll put it on the mirror in your room."

He then smiled at me and asked, "So you excited to have some fun today? Just
us guys...and Tomas...", dad chuckled.

"Well, Tomas is a guy...sortakinda.", I offered.

"Yeah, champ", dad sighed happily. "A little different day than we'd planned
but we'll still have fun."

"Sure, Tomas can stay in my room and we can go swimming.", I suggested
naively.

"Well", dad said, "I don't think that's possible but we can maybe ask an
attendant to watch him a while as we have fun. I'll slip some one of the
locker room guys a nice tip for keeping an eye out for him when we go down
there."

With that, dad stretched lazily and pulled off his sweatshirt in one big
sweep, exposing his great hairy chest and muscular stomach to me. He flexed
as he winked at me. ""Just such a place to us our muscles!", he joked.

He then unbuckled his pants and kicked off his shoes. His underwear bulge
reappeared and I became so excited we were on our secret overnighter at the
Lawson instead of some fishing thing.

Dad opened his duffel and pulled out a pair of flip-flop sandals. "All we
need here...and a towel, I suppose.", he said with a big smile.

Dad then explained the rules of the Lawson. Since no women were allowed
anywhere in the place other than the lobby, men were permitted to be nude
throughout the gym and swimming pool areas, as well as the rooms floors. The
elevator serviced only these floors so it was okay to be nude as one moved
about the Y. If one had to go to the lobby, one had to take a different
elevator from the locker room check in level.

So dad said I might see some men walking around without any clothes on, like
the man who had just passed us in the corridor...but as I was there before,
that shouldn't be of any surprise.

Dad stripped off his pants and socks as he spoke. Then he stood tall and
dropped his undershorts. "Let's say we keep all our clothes clean if we go
out for dinner tonight...and not wear anything but towels while we're here.
He stood there naked and handsome and hung and perfect as he reached for one
of the large white towels that sat folded on a metal shelf beside the sink.
He wrapped it around his waist as he slipped into his plastic flip-flops. I
stared at the enormous lump his penis made in the white terry cloth as he
then opened my duffel and pulled out only my toothpaste, toothbrush, my
little blue flip-flops and a comb.

"This is all you'll need down there", he said. "Why cram this bag in there
since you'll have Tomas in there anyway."

Made perfect sense to me as he smiled and took me by the hand. He switched
off the lights and opened the door onto the corridor again. As he locked the
door, an older man stood at his door across the hall, wearing only a baggy
pair of boxer shorts. He said to my dad with a chipper voice, "Well you
scored big!"

I didn't know what the man might have meant but dad smiled and said, "Good
morning...this is Kevin, my son."

The man coughed in an embarrassed way as he shuffled to his other foot. "Oh,
jeeez, sorry, guy...just jokin'...you know..."

"No problem", dad. "'Just bringing him down to his room...519."

The man said a quick hello to me and then again apologized - for what I
didn't understand at the time.

Dad and I walked down the hall, and as we did two men emerged from the
double doors, one naked, the other wearing sweatshorts and carrying a
shaving bag.

"What the...?". One man asked in a jovial though startled tone looking at me
and then my dad and then me again.

"Hi", dad said as we walked by him.

"They let 'im in...that age, I mean?", the man almost whispered as we
passed.

Dad nodded and told the man I was in Room 519.

We got to the end of the corridor and dad again unlocked my door. Inside, we
could hear Tomas making noises, just a happy gurgling.

"We should get Tomas some food soon", dad said. "Before he loses it and
starts screaming."

Dad went took the bottle out of the bassinet and rinsed it out at the sink,
then filled it with water. "Maybe this will at least fill his belly for a
little while.", dad said as he put the plastic nipple to Tomas' lips.
Tomas's lips voraciously suckled at the bottle causing my dad and I to
laugh.

"This one has chops!", dad laughed as we watched Tomas go-to-town on the
water.

"Why don't you get ready while I do this", dad said. By ready, he meant
"naked."

I pulled off my sneakers and jeans. And then took off my little plaid shirt.
All the while dad sat on the side of my bed, watching as he fed Tomas water.

There I stood in my Batman and Robin underpants.

"No use for those this trip, Kevy", dad said with a smile. "Just we guys
here, after all."

I happily pulled down my underpants in front of my daddy. Happy to be all
grown up like him and all the men at the Lawson.

"You can go like that all day or...", Dad then nodded up toward the sink,
pointing to a towel.

Since dad was wearing one, I wanted to wear one, too. So I turned my back to
my dad and reached super high to grab one of the towels that sat folded on a
shelf. As I did so, my dad got a great view of my little backside.

I wrapped the towel around me but it was almost too big to be comfortable.

"You look like a Saudi sheik in that thing!", dad joked. Then he stood up
and put Tomas back into the Moses basket. "Listen, you stay here with Tomas
a while. I'm going to see what I can do about some food and some sort of a
babysitter for Tomas here."

"Okay", I replied as I played with the faucets of the sink and proud I was
big enough to have my very own room at the Lawson!

Dad said not to go anywhere and that he'd be back as soon as he could.

He then slipped out of the room leaving me alone in the silence of early
morning at an all-male Y.M.C.A.

I was alone only a few minutes when there was a light rap at my door. It
startled me a bit but I went to the door and asked, "Yes?"

The door wasn't locked and suddenly the handle turned. It was the older man
in boxer shorts we'd seen across from dad's room. "Hey", he whispered. "How
ya doin'?"

"Fine", I mumbled wondering what the man, who stood there with a foot in the
door, wanted.

"Good, good", the man said slightly nervously as his eyes scanned around my
room. "I saw your dad leave...he coming back?"

"In a little while", I replied. "He had to go find some food and stuff for
Tommy."

The man smiled as he looked at the bed and the Moses basket, "That's Tommy
in there?"

I nodded. "Can I come on in for a little while...to visit?", the man asked
showing me the tent his penis made in his loose boxer shorts.

He looked nice enough, nice hairy build, blue eyes and whitish gray hair so
I opened the door fully and he quickly slipped in.

"They make these rooms all alike, don't they?" he asked as made sure the
door was locked and then made a beeline to the bed.

"Yeah", I said. "But my daddy's room looks at an air conditioner on the roof
of some building and mine doesn't."

"How old are you?", the man asked as he looked around and back at Tomas.

"Seven", I said simply.

"'Name's Ted", the man said as he reached to shake my hand. "I'm
fifty-seven."

"That's my little brother, Tommy", I lied, knowing that's how my dad had
gotten him in. I figured he'd have to be a relative to be added to dad's
membership.

"Cute", Ted said. "Your dad bring you here often?"

"This is my second time but never up here", I explained.

"You've been here before, uh?", the man reiterated. "That's
good...good...you have fun here?"

I nodded as I stared openly at the man's big tenter that pushed at the thin
white cotton fabric of his boxers. Standing there, Ted let his erect penis
pop out of the loose fly, exposing it fully as he pretended nothing
happened.

"They keep this place a little cold, don't they?", he asked casually,
knowing full well he was showing his uncut cock to me.

I simply wandered up to him and sat in edge of the bed, inches from his
erection.
"They could use better blankets here", Ted said looking up at the ceiling
tiles. His erection was within my reach as he spoke. "But its clean and
that's the important thing", he carried on as he ever so slightly moved
closer to where I sat. "Good water pressure in the showers and all that..."

As he spoke, he casually moved closer and closer to me head until his erect
adult penis was brushing along my lips. "And cheap, too", he said. "Just a
few dollars a night."

I opened my mouth and started to suck on the older stranger's very thick
penis. He groaned softly but just said, "And too noisy like some
places...some places are just too noisy".

He then looked down at me, looking at his meaty cock jammed into a
seven-year-old's mouth and whispered, "Oh, that's the way, boy...you've done
this before, huh?"

I nodded as I looked up into his eyes.

"Oh, I can tell...", Ted whispered. He lightly grabbed the back of my head
and then thrust his big gran'paw penis down my throat. "Take that big thing,
boy"

I barely choked but quickly recovered my gag reflexes. I opened my throat
wider as men had been teaching me to do. As I sucked him deep, Ted leaned
forward and pulled back the covers of Tomas' Moses basket. He slipped his
thick index finger into Tomas's mouth. As usual, Tomas took to it like a
nipple.

Almost immediately, Ted started to groan louder. He then stood tall, pulling
his cock out of my mouth. "Gunna beat off on you boys...", he muttered as he
jacked himself. Gently but determinedly, he pulled my head down to where
Tomas lay. "Keep your face next to his...", Ted mumbled as he furiously
masturbated the erection jutting out of the fly of his boxers. I watched as
his huge hairy scrotum jiggled up and down as he did so. "Gunna beat off on
your faces, boy.", he said. "Open your mouth!"

As he approached climax, Ted again leaned forward, this time inserting two
fingers into Tomas' mouth, keeping his lips parted. Suddenly Ted growled,
"Uhhhhhhhh arrrhhhhhhhhooooooh cummin'...cummin' in you boys...keep those
mouths open!"

Hot splats of tangy semen splattered on my tongue and more flung, directly
hitting Tomas' open mouth. More coated my face and Tomas' cheeks.

"Eat up, boys!", Ted moaned as he continued to empty his fat daddy nuts.
"Eat that good stuff out of my balls!"

He then wiggled his fingers around in Tomas' mouth making sure he swallowed
it all down. Ted then scooped up the semen that glopped on Tomas's cheeks
and inserted all the hot goo between the nursing, red lips.

And just as quickly, Ted shook his head, as though coming out of some fog.
"Damn, that was incredible!", he said with a laugh. "Don't tell your daddy
though!". And with that, Ted stuffed his big fat penis back into his boxers
and tousled my hair. "I gotta tell others about this room, that's a sure
bet!"

Ted then opened the door carefully and peeked out. Seeing the corridor was
empty, he quickly slipped out and high-tailed it to the communal bathroom.

I stood up, still tasting the older man's semen and closed the door. There
was a wall clock over the door. It was just six-ten in the morning and
already I was having such fun with more daddymilk at the Lawson!


More to come...

m2m_erotica_illustrated@yahoogroups.com
m2m_erotica_illustrated-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

Gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com
