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It was late summer of 1964 and I was 13 years old...

Before school started again for the fall, Todd and I spent a lot of time at the Y swimming. He also spent a lot of time at my house when my dad was home. Between swimming at the Y and hanging out at my house, he easily spent more waking hours nude than dressed.� He was shameless when it came to enticing my dad to have sex with him, not that my dad needed much enticing.� Sex acts between them were engaged in openly and quite frequently with Dad naturally taking the dominant role.

My mom had redecorated the living room shortly before she was killed.� Dad wasn't happy about spending the money, but she prevailed.� Afterwards he liked the results. Besides new paint, new carpet, new drapes and new furniture, she had covered one wall of the living room with 18 inch square mirror-tiles.� Visually it made the room look much larger than it was.� He never came out and said it, but Dad particularly liked the mirrored wall.� It allowed him to watch Todd sucking him from an additional vantage point, as well allowing Todd and himself to watch as they fucked on the double ottoman.

Todd set up an easel with a fairly large canvas before that mirrored wall and proceeded to do a self portrait of himself, much like famous artists have done for centuries, a self portrait of himself sitting at his easel painting himself as he saw his reflection in the mirror.� Except that I don't think any of those famous artists rendered themselves in the nude. Todd was nude and immodest.�

As Dad and I watched the self portrait unfold, we were impressed, but it wasn't until he began painting the background that we were blown away with his talent.� As it unfolded slowly it became apparent that the background was the mirrored wall and the reflection was of his naked backside at the easel.� In other words the actual foreground had become the background, and the whole thing was from the opposite perspective.� In the background he added another nude figure, me, looking over his shoulder as he painted.� Dad was so impressed that he hung that canvas over the living room sofa for all to see.�

After my mom died, Dad became a very private person and never invited neighbors into the house. Then once Todd's various nude drawings of me were hung in his home office, who I invited over became restricted.� So, as good and artistic as Todd's self portrait was,� there wasn't anyone to see it other than we three, plus Dad's friends when they came over.��

*****

A few weeks after we returned home from our vacation to Clear Lake, I was yearning for another ass fucking on the order of what that ornately tattooed seaman with the bulging dick gave me, so I dropped by to see Casey to have him scratch my itch.� He did, but I didn't get my rocks off with him fucking me.� I told him, no offense, but...� He listened and told me he'd think on it and sent me home wet.

Two days later, he called and told me he had a plan and if I wanted, he'd set it up.� "Yes, I want it," I told him.�

"School hasn't started yet, has it?"

"No, not until next week," I answered.

"Good!� Can you spend the night this Tuesday?"

"I'll ask my dad, tonight.� But I don't think he'll have a problem."

Sure enough, Dad was fine with me spending the night with a buddy.� He didn't even ask which buddy, just saying that it gave him the opportunity to go the club and see some of his friends.� At that time I didn't know of any club other than the country club that he belonged to, so naturally I made my own assumptions.

I arrived at Casey's late that afternoon.� We ate dinner and he explained what was to happen, sort of. He had rounded up several "students" for an art class during which I was to model for them.� I really didn't see how that was going to help with my problem, but Casey said for me to trust him.� Five men showed up around 7 PM for Art Class.� As they set up their easels, I disrobed.

"Gentlemen, you know why you're here tonight.� While you are perfecting your artistic abilities," everyone chuckled, "we'll satisfy Randy's needs.� Now, I have everyone's name on slip of paper in this paper bag.� Randy will draw the names to determine who goes first, second, third, etc... "

I still wasn't clear on what Casey's plan was, but I drew the names and that was that.� Casey had me lie down on the stack of pillows I'd be poising upon.� "Open yourself up, " he told me.� I knew what he meant by that, rolled onto my stomach and spread my ass cheeks apart. As soon as I felt the cold KY working into my anus, I had an inkling of Casey's plan for me.� Meanwhile, the man who was first, disrobed as well.�

Casey, as always was very specific about how he wanted me to poise, this time on my side and looking back at the artists.� The man then spooned into me from behind, his hard cock seeking its target between my buttocks.� He found it, pushed and easily penetrated.� As always, I felt a certain rush as his cock sank into me.� Casey reminded him to take it slow and to last as long as he could.� The dick slowly retreated and then advanced.� Okay, the cock up my ass, that I understood.� But how he would get my rocks off with just his dick up my butt, I wasn't so sure about that.

He lasted a good long time before he could no longer hold off cumming. I felt his dick throbbing and felt him slipping around more easily. He softened and withdrew with a loud slurping sound.

The second man quickly took his place and slowly fucked me, while the first returned to his easel and began rendering what he saw.� All the guys did a really good job of taking it slow and not getting in a big hurry. It was over two hours since we began before the last man, Casey, had busted his nut in me.� I was getting mighty sore by that time and welcomed the end of the modeling session.�

The guys were all happy with the evening, picked up their work and before heading home, all examined my lewdly open gaping hole, a throbbing hole that positively oozed semen for the next two hours like one of those oozing mud volcanoes at Yellowstone.� Unfortunately, the only time I got off was when one of guys had taken mercy upon me and reached around to whack me off while he slowed sawed my butt.� Still, with six men, it had been one hell of an ass fucking.

I mention this, not because of the utter and total promiscuousness of it on my part, but as a lead in to what happened a few months later.� It was a Saturday afternoon and Todd and I had just come home from swimming at the Y.� We were dressed, getting a snack when Dad came in from playing golf with a friend.�

Dad, unaware that I was "modeling" on the side, had no clue when he introduces his friend to me. The moment our eyes met, we recognized each other, he being one of the "artists" at my gang fucking. We said our hellos, without letting on that we were already acquainted with each other.� He recognized Todd too, but not from carnal knowledge, but from some of Casey's paintings of him.�

Thinking Dad might want some privacy, I thought it would be best if Todd and I went for a bike ride.� When we came back later, Dad and his golfing partner were gone.� Todd needed to go home by then, so he left.� Several hours passed before Dad came home again, this time carrying with him several pieces of framed art work wrapped in brown paper for protection.

"Randy, come see what I've bought!" Dad called to me.�

He unwrapped the first piece and there I was on canvas.� It was a copy of the original piece Casey had done of me sitting on the stool and looking back at the viewer.� The only difference was that Casey had painted a slightly different non-descript background, but the subject, me, was remarkably faithful to the original.� I thought, 'Uh oh.� I'm in trouble now.'

"I really like this," Dad said as he held the painting of me up to view it close up.� "The eyes, the lips, the butt... it's definitely you.�

"Casey's not some buddy of yours from school, is he?" he continued. "He's a man, a man you've been sleeping with.� How long have you been modeling your naked ass for Casey?"

I didn't answer right away, so Dad went on, "My friend, Jack, the man who was here earlier and who played golf with me this morning, he was at one of Casey's "art classes" where you modeled nude for a bunch of men.� Men who couldn't so much as draw a stick figure.� From what I understand, you were quite the crowd pleaser for his "art class" that night."

I must have been white as a ghost and Dad read my fear.�� "You're not in any trouble for doing this," he said.� "But you are in trouble for sneaking around and lying to me about it."

"Yes, sir," I replied meekly waiting for the shoe to drop. �

But the shoe never did drop.� He was okay with it all.�

"Son, I know you like messing around with boys and men.� So do I.� What you choose to do, is your business and the business of the guy you're with. At one time or another, I done everything you've done, except modeling nude for a bunch of strangers.�

"You get off on that, exhibiting yourself?"

When I didn't come right out and answer he says, "I take that as a yes.

"The point is, I just want you to be safe when you're doing it.� You're safe at the Y.� You're safe at Todd's house.� You're safe here, that's why I've always let you boys do what you wanted to do here in this house.� And I guess that for the most part you're safe at Casey's.� But you have to use good judgment, and know whom you're dealing with.�

"Last summer at the Y, I asked you if that Kipper fellow was messing with you.� You weren't truthful to me then, and I knew it. But I also understood why you were reluctant to tell me the truth and I figured that if you really had a problem with what he was doing with you, you'd tell me. So, I let it go on, even though I wasn't sure just how far you went with him.�

"Then, after the fact, Kent, the desk clerk, told me that Kipper had fucked you in the butt.� Not once, but several times.� You know what I might have done if you were truthful with me?� I might have taken you with me more often, if that's what you wanted.� Now I find out you've been spreading your cheeks for some artist and his friends.�

"Here's the bottom line, Randy.� What you and Casey do in private is your business.� Okay?� But I don't want Casey arranging sex partners for you and getting paid for it.� You hear what I'm saying? My friend� Jack told me that Casey charged him and the other guys fifty bucks each to have a go at a thriteen-year-old's butt, your butt, and to watch each other do it.

"The art class was a ruse.� He prostituted you, Randy.� Sold your ass for money.� How much did you make selling your ass?"

I felt kind of sick even though I knew Dad wasn't going to haul off beat my ass to a pulp.� I honestly answered, "Ten dollars."

"Ten dollars!"

"Five dollars an hour for modeling.� That's his going rate for models."

"Jesus Christ!� So, you weren't being paid to let those men fuck you?"

"No, sir.� I was paid to model for Casey's art class."

"With a dick up your butt?� Five, six dicks?"

"Yes, sir.� That's how Casey posed me."

"That son of a bitch! Well, I've had a word with Casey.� I told him that if he ever pulled a stunt like that with you again, that he'd pay dearly for it.� Actually, I think he shit in pants when I showed up and told him what I knew.� He thought I was going to have him arrested. We settled our differences with him giving me these art pieces."�

With that he unwraps the second painting, this one of Todd lying nude on a bed, looking back towards a naked man standing next to the bed with an erection, who you only see as a partial torso, thighs, dick, and tummy.

"Casey really is quite the artist," Dad said looking at the painting.� "No question about it, that's Todd.� And when I first saw this, I imagined that was me standing there ready to ravage him."

Next he unwraps a framed numbered print of the Saturday Evening Post cover, where "little Todd" is blowing me.�

"This is just too good!" Dad declared with a laugh. "Pure Americana! I got two more in the series too."�

Then he unwraps two more framed spoof magazine covers with the Romper Room kids.� One with us gleefully stomping about naked in a play pool, bathing suits carelessly discarded in the foreground� and with a man's hairy hand coming into view from the side, holding a garden hose and refilling the play pool.� The other was the one with Todd peeing on me.

"Did Todd really piss on you?" Dad asked.

"No, we just posed with Todd standing over me that way and Casey added it."

"Oh, okay," Dad replied with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Despite Dad's issues with Casey, Dad was really smitten by Casey's art.� Now in addition to some of Todd's nude drawings of me, the two oil paintings he hung in his home office. After removing the last of some old stuff from when my mom was alive, he hung the three magazine covers in his bedroom. A few months later, he acquired the fourth in the Romper Room series, with Todd and me rendered as the Romper Room kids, and where Todd was kneeling, spreading my ass cheeks and examining my asshole while I stood and looked back at him.����

Needless to say, I was surprised that Dad hadn't blown his stack with me over Casey.� In fact he said I was free to model for him when and if I wanted, but I never modeled for Casey again and neither did Todd.� Casey said it was because we were getting too old, but being "too old for him" didn't stop him from having sex with either or both of us.

Perhaps I should add at this point that Todd had started to let his body hair grow out, and that might have had something to do with it also.� Dad had encouraged Todd to let nature take its course, lest the boys in the school locker room start making comments and labeling him a faggot.

"But� I am a faggot," Todd quipped.

"Maybe so," Dad replied annoyed that Todd was being flippant with him,� "but you don't want other people identifying you as a faggot.� Act like a man, not like a fairy.� You'll go much farther in life and have an easier go at it too."

Todd had indeed been the target of biting comments at school about his lack of hair and despite his outward attitude, took Dad's advice to heart.� Casey wasn't happy about Todd's decision and they had words.� Dad liked him smooth too, but he was more concerned with Todd's overall welfare.��

The more immediate consequence of Dad's discovery was a whole new level of sex.� Incestuous sex between Dad and me.� After putting aside and leaning the framed pictures up against a wall, he came up from behind me, put his arms around me, hugged me and told me how much he loved me.� I only had a pair of shorts on, so I was shirtless.� One hand began rubbing my navel and the other rubbing a nipple.� Then the hand that was on my navel slid down to rub my crotch, something which he'd never done before.�

"If you're uncomfortable with me doing this, Randy, just tell me and I'll stop," he said. I held my breath as he unbuttoned my shorts and unzipped me.� I wasn't wearing any underwear, so as my shorts fell to my feet, I was rendered nude.�

That in itself wasn't a big deal, but Dad took my bare cock into his hand.� "Do you like this?" he asked as he tenderly fondled me.� Of course I liked it, I always liked it when a hand other than my own was playing with my dick.

As I hardened with his touch he murmured, "Yes, you do like this, your cock doesn't lie."� It wasn't lying, not at all and I leaned back into my father while he continued fondling me.��

"Ever since I first realized that you were turning into a player, I've dreamed of doing this," he whispered in my ear.� "And when I watch you and Todd blowing each other, I want to do that with you too.� And when I watch him sticking his dick up your ass, I nearly go out of my mind.� A father shouldn't have these feelings for his own son, but I do, Randy, I do.� I want to do with you everything you do with Todd and with other men."

Still fondling my cock and balls, Dad moved around to the side where his hand that had been rubbing my nipple, and slid it down to explore my ass.

"You've got such a beautiful ass," he tells me.� "So full, firm, shapely and well formed.� There's a term for an ass like yours, Randy... callipygian.� I've always enjoyed seeing this butt of yours, and I've always wanted to feel it in my hand and lay kisses on it.� But your fine ass is just one of your good physical qualities. You've got a nice dick for a boy your age and a nice handful of balls. You're a good looking boy in every way.�

"But I've come to realize that best of all, you're easy. You don't care too much about whose dick you're sucking, just so long as you're sucking it, do you?� Am I wrong?� And as far as I can tell, you don't care too much whose dick is up your ass either, just so long as it's up your ass.� And I'll venture that you don't care too much about who's sucking your dick, just so long as it gets sucked."�

With that last statement he turned me to face him and sank to his knees. Looking up at me he says, "If we start this, Randy, we're going all the way.� It's up to you.� If you don't want to do this, tell me and I'll leave you alone."

I answered him by pushing my hard cock against his lips, lips that easily parted and slid over the head of my cock and down the stalk.� Dad's tongue started moving along the underside of my dick and his lips slid back up the stalk until his tongue could swirl about my glans.� He took it slow and made it as sensuous a blowjob as I had ever had.� Quickly he set my balls boiling and pulled off completely to allow me to cool off some, then he took great pleasure in mouthing my seeping cockhead until I did erupt.� His timing was perfect, slipping the head between his lips just as my eruption commenced, taking it all into his mouth to savor the texture and flavor of my, his own son's, cum.� Milking me, he sucked me until I was completely soft and so sensitive that I was jerking about.

He stood, kissed me full on the lips and said, "That was really nice, son.� I really enjoyed that, did you?"�

Still breathing hard I nodded.� Without him asking or suggesting what to do next, I sank to my knees before my father.� Grasping his 7 inch prick I studied it up close for a moment.� I had always found his cut cock to be visually appealing, particularly the streamlined shape of his purplish glans. As the eye yawned open, a large dollop of clear pre-seminal fluid oozed formed, increasing in size until the drop began to slowly drool, attached to his dick with a long vicious string.� Not wanting it to go to waste, I stuck out my tongue and caught the slippery drop on the end of my tongue, savoring the taste of my father for the very first time.� He was salty and made my tongue slick, whetting my appetite for more.� I drew closer, close enough to run my tongue over his smooth frictionless glans.� After introducing his cock head to my tongue, I slipped my lips over him to explore that marvelous cock head more.� I heard Dad exclaim above me, "Oh, fuck yeah, son." It pleased me to hear that I was pleasing him.

I knew from watching Dad fucking Todd that he had staying power and now I experienced it for the first time myself.� I sucked and I sucked and sucked his dick, and not just sucking, but licking and kissing and making love to it.� Dad stayed hard as a rock and seeped copious quantities of pre-cum as I orally laved on him. My knees grew sore from kneeling, so we moved to the sectional sofa where I could lay between his legs and continue sucking him without being distracted by my knees aching.� After a good forty minutes of blowing him, he did cum in my mouth.� It wasn't a flood of cum, but good half dozen strong spurts.� I found his semen was pleasant tasting, and not at all acrid.� That was surprising, as he was a smoker, just like most adults in the mid sixties, but he wasn't a heavy smoker, smoking just five or six cigarettes a day.

After he came in my mouth, we stayed were we were with me nuzzling into his crotch while he took a quick nap. After catching ten winks, he began to stir. Telling me to "stay put", he got up and disappeared into the back for a moment.�

Dad returned carrying a tube of KY Jelly.� It was pretty obvious what he had in mind. He held it out for me to see and said, "You know what's this is for."� It was a statement, not a question. "The question is whether you want me to use it."� Lying face down on the sofa, I looked up to my dad, reached back and spread my ass cheeks.�

"That's what I thought," he said with a smile.

Unscrewing the cap he remarked, "Nice thing about guy-sex, no one ever gets pregnant no matter how many times you do it or whenever you do it."� Really nasty things like AIDS were still in the distant future and really weren't much of a concern, nothing that a shot of antibiotics couldn't clear up in a few days.

He knelt beside me and as I held myself open for him, he slathered the lube on my anus. A moment later his middle finger was up to the third knuckle in me.

Easily he worked a second finger into me.� "You do kegel exercises?" he asked as he probed my ass.� "Kegels will keep your sphincter in good condition so that you don't crap on yourself every time you sneeze.� If you're not doing them, I want you to start doing them.� All you do is squeeze your ass muscles. Now, squeeze my fingers."� I squeezed.

"Not bad, but you need some work. Do it five times, holding for thirty seconds.� You can do them anywhere, in school, at home, in church, anywhere.� Do as many sets in a day as you can.� An easy way to remember is to do them while roll is being taken in class.� That way you'll do six or seven sets, starting with home room, everyday at school."�

Over the next few weeks he'd ask me every day if I was doing my kegels.� Mostly I lied about it, but the with the daily reminders, I started doing them like he suggested, during roll call.� Pretty soon I was doing them every time I sat down, automatically and without thinking about it.� Pretty soon, I could truthfully report that I was faithfully following his instructions.� He of course checked my progress, and every evening he'd run his finger up my butt and had me squeeze.� Before long he was telling me how good I was doing.

I thought he was going to take me right there on the sofa, but he had other ideas.� Instead he had me lean against the mirrored wall with my legs spread.� Coming up from behind me and looking over my shoulder at our reflections, he felt me up and then slotted his cock against my ready hole. To this very day, I remember seeing, as well as feeling, his cock as he slowly impaled me for the first time. He had no trouble entering me, proof that his boy was well experienced with taking cocks up his ass.

Holding me with one arm, his free hand jacked my dick as he slowly and deliberately fucked me, all the while whispering to me how much he liked the feel of his dick up my ass and things like that. Never once, not then and not after, did he ever make any disparaging remarks to me about what a whore I was, and I was a whore, and I was now his whore, his willing whore. He was in no hurry that first fuck and wanted it to be as good for me as it was good for him. And it was good.� We changed positions now and then, on the ottoman face up, on the ottoman face down, bent over the sofa arm rest, sitting on the sofa with his cock buried deep in me, me straddling him on the floor, and always there was the reflection of what we were doing reflected back at us. Several times he had to stop and add more lube to his hot dick and then back up my hot hole he went.� Like I said, Dad had good staying power and he fucked me for a long time before busting his nut.� By that time, we were both exhausted.�

We showered and then went to bed, his bed, which now became my bed too, except when he had a friend over for the night.� Even when Todd was about, we all slept together and now played together. There was one big difference between what my dad did with me and what other men did.� Other men fucked me, Dad made love to me.� There is a difference and I was now keenly aware of that difference.� Todd?� He still fucked Todd.��

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