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Related article:
Challenges 1
This
story is sheer nude models
a lsmodel pics
fantasy. It did not happen and it does not suggest that
anyone do the things described in this story. Once again, it is a
fantasy. Please don't copy this story or post it elsewhere without my
permission. This story will describe sexual acts between males, lia gril model some
of whom will be of different generations. If you might be offended by
this or if it's illegal for you to read this, then please don't read
it. If you would like to write to me about my story, my address is
ghbfna11 gmail.com. Also, like half the other writers on the
Internet, I have a weblog that I would like you to read at Gay
Humanist Bytes Fascist; News At 11. I hope you like it and I hope
you enjoy the story!
Challenges
by
GHBFNA11
Chapter
One
1.
"Happy
Birthday! You're a daddy!"
Matthew
Cameron rolled hott bikini models his eyes at his friend Steve Hirsch as the cocktail
boy set three Flaming Armadillos down on the table before them. Jason
Linley grinned.
"What
a way to celebrate your twenty-ninth birthday! Playtime's over,
dude!"
Matt shook
his head.
"Let's
not get carried away here. Remember, he's coming to live with me
because his mother died."
"God
rot her evil soul," Steve added.
"Here,
here!" Jason added as he held up the shot glass. He then
declared, "To Mattie becoming an adult!"
"To
Mattie becoming an adult!" Steve mimicked. Matt sighed and
reluctantly lifted his shot glass.
"To
Mattie becoming an adult," he replied with something less than
enthusiasm.
Several
other men at nearby tables and booths in the gay bar began to sing
"Happy Birthday" over "Love Shack" booming from
the dance floor. The cocktail boy leaned over in his short cut-offs
and half t-shirt and planted a drippy kiss on Matt's mouth, prevented
from inserting his tongue only when Matt pulled back and declared,
"Whoa, Nelly!" Cocktail Boy grinned and pranced away after
pinching Matt's cheek.
Steve and
Jason slammed down the shot glasses and chuckled, but Steve's grin
gradually faded as he watched his friend faking his joviality.
"What's
the matter? You don't look like you're too thrilled about the
situation."
Matt
shrugged and looked down at the table, brushing his thick, strawberry
blond hair from his blue eyes.
"It's
just all so sudden. I'm worried I'm not up to it."
His
friends nodded in understanding as he continued.
"I
mean, if it had been cancer, I'd have had time to prepare. But, a car
wreck. And, then, that bastard step-father just calling up and saying
'Take him, I don't want him.' The poor little guy just loses his
mother. His step-father doesn't want him. And, now he gets thrown in
with his faggot father who, let's face it, is not the most mature guy
around. I just don't know how all this is going to affect him. And, I
don't know if I can be a decent father. I mean, yeah I've got a great
job, but I party every night and I... I just don't know if I can do
what he needs me to do."
Steve
smiled sympathetically and placed a hand on Matt's wrist.
"Right
now, I don't think you need to worry about it. All you need to do
tonight is be thankful your son is coming to live with you, celebrate
your twenty-ninth birthday, and go over to the hot nude busty models blond guy you've
been eying since we sat down, take him to the back room, and get
fucked really hard."
Matt
blushed and ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit of his
whenever he was embarrassed. He grinned at Steve and glanced back at
the blond, who stared back rather blatantly at him and raised an
eyebrow.
"Well?”
Steve asked. "What are you waiting for?"
Matt
sighed and looked about the bar, at the t-shirted body builders and
hustlers playing at the pool tables to their right, at the snobby
preps in their Polo oxfords staring down their noses with disdain and
disguised lust at the body-builders and hustlers, and at the twinks
on the dance floor behind them oblivious of everything except the
beat of the music and how pretty they looked. Then he glanced back at
the hot blond in the back.
"I've
never nude busty models seen him in here before," Matt commented as he looked up
and down the well-filled khakis. The sun-bleached hair, unusual for a
northern city teen age modells in October, was teen underwear model thick and long, sweeping from the part
on the right down across his forehead and just touching the collar of
the denim shirt. He looked like he had stepped out of a Gap ad, even
though he was probably in his mid-thirties.
"He's
a bit old for you, isn't he?" Jason asked. "Don't you
normally go for twinks and frat boys?"
Matt's
eyes were locked on the blonde’s as he replied, "Yeah, but
I think I need a Daddy tonight before I become one tomorrow!"
Steve and
Jason both laughed as Matt stood and made his way to the back.
He could
feel his cock growing in his khakis as he approached and the guy's
smile was like gasoline on a fire to him. Between his nervousness and
the several drinks that had been bought for him, Matt was ready for
the hunk to take him into the back room, throw him down on a table,
and fuck his lights out. But, first, he had to surrender with some
dignity.
2.
He had
interviewed politicians and business leaders, movie stars and rock
stars, and even a man who had walked on the moon. But, never had he
felt as nervous or intimidated as he did standing in the airport
watching through the giant window as his son's plane approached the
gate. His stomach ached and his chest was tight. His ass was still
sore from the fuck in the back room the night before. Scott had taken
full child virtual models
advantage of his need, but before they could exchange phone
numbers, he had disappeared into the dark of the room. It was just as
well, Matt told himself. cook jackie model He had a much bigger challenge facing him
now and getting fucked in the back room of "Boys Night Out"
was no longer going to be an option.
It had
been years since he had seen Tim. The divorce agreement had
stipulated that he have no contact with his son until after the boy's
eighteenth birthday and other than the occasional photograph in the
mail and the pain in his heart as he watched other father's playing
catch in the park with their sons, Tim had been completely absent
from his life. Now, in just a matter of minutes, that was to
dramatically change.
The plane
pulled up to the jet way and stopped. Matt watched the crowd gathered
at the gate move forward in anticipation of the passengers
disembarking. He waited on the periphery, his hands nervously jammed
into the pockets of his khaki's. He was thankful for his tweed sport
coat as he was certain he was sweating like a pig in his blue oxford
shirt. He shook his head in wonder at himself as the first passengers
appeared in the doorway; he ecosystem functions model
felt as little bikini model if he were a fifteen year-old on
his first date.
That
morning, he had spent half an hour deciding what to wear. He
naturally looked younger than his age and he couldn't decide whether
it would make a better impression on the boy if he looked like he
normally did, a college freshman, or if he should go for the "Daddy
look." In interviews, he normally disarmed his subjects by
giving them the appearance of a young amateur preeteennude models and then shocking them
with stinging, biting questions that caught them off guard. That was
probably not the approached to take, he had decided, with a ten
year-old boy meeting his father for the first time. In the end, he
had compromised. The khakis with blue canvas sneakers would give a
youthful, less intimidating appearance; and leaving the tie at home
would help. However, the tweed jacket would show good taste and
maturity. When he climbed into his '89 Z, however, he realized it was
all crap. Kids didn't care about that sort of thing with adults.
Clothes only mattered when it came to other kids. They had x-ray
vision when it came to veneers. Tim would have formed his opinion and
judgment of him within five minutes and it wouldn't matter what he
was wearing.
3.
Tim
Cameron gazed out the window of the 737 as it descended toward the
airport. They were passing over the suburbs, flying by housing
tracts, shopping malls, and freeways as they dropped lower and lower.
He held his hands in his lap, nervous not because of the landing, but
because he was about to meet his father for the first gallery littlemodels
time in his
memory. He sighed and clenched his hands as he heard the rumble and
whine of the flaps lowering.
"Don't
worry," said the businessman beside him reassuringly. "It's
supposed to do that."
Tim smiled
and nodded absent-mindedly before looking back out the window. The
engines throttled down and he glanced at his khaki pants. Would his
dad like the way he was dressed? He knew nothing about his father
except that his mother had divorced him, his step-father hated him,
and he was a writer. Tim was a quiet, intellectual boy. Perhaps, his
father would like a quiet, intellectual son since he was a writer.
His step-father certainly hadn't liked him. Loud and gregarious, Jack
loved Monday Night Football, drank beer with the guys, and hated
books. After a year, he had given up on being close to Tim and, when
his mother twice became pregnant, focused all his attention on Tim's
two half-siblings. His real father had to be different. If he was a
writer, he might like a quiet intellectual for a son.
Tim had
chosen his clothes carefully the night before. Khaki slacks and a
blue oxford shirt. That would look formal and respectful, but his
blue canvas deck shoes would show he was still a kid and not trying
to be pretentious. hott bikini models
Then, he would top it off with the tweed sport
jacket his mother had given him for his birthday, to show his father
how important the occasion was to him. Now, he worried that it was
all wrong. What if he made the wrong impression on his father right
off, as he had with his step-father? What if they didn't get along
any better than he had ebina models monique
with Jack? And, what if his father called him
"a little fairy" the way Jack had?
Tim bit
his lower lip and felt his eyes start to burn. No! He couldn't cry!
Not before he met his father. He took a deep breath as he heard the
landing gear drop. The ground was rushing by faster and faster and
suddenly, they passed over the fence of the airport. The landing
lights flew past beneath them and then the end of the runway. In
seconds, he felt the gear touchdown and then the nose drop.
Immediately, the engines reversed and roared and he was pushed
forward in his seat for a moment until the plane slowed down.
As they
taxied toward the terminal, he pulled his backpack out from under his
seat and clutched it anxiously. The man next to him hess brothers model patted his arm.
"You
look more scared now than you did before we landed," he said
with a smile. Tim shrugged and tried to look calm.
"I'm
OK. I'm... going to meet my dad for the first time."
"Oh,"
the man replied. "I see. Well, I wouldn't worry about it too
much. Dads have special feelings for their sons and I'm sure your's
will be pretty proud of such a fine-looking young man as you."
Tim
finally smiled and said, "Thanks," as he blushed and looked
toward male models hairy the window.
The plane
seemed to take forever to reach the gate. Nervously, he watched as
they approached the giant window. How would he recognize his father?
His mother had always said kids naked models he was the "spitting image" of
his father, (and she hadn't always meant it as a compliment, he
knew). He looked for a reddish-blond man in the window, but the
reflections in the glass seemed to block his view. When the plane
came to a stop and the other passengers began to pull their carry-ons
down from the rack above and push their way up the aisle, Tim waited
impatiently, clutching his backpack and watching. The businessman
grinned at him and said, "Patience. He'll be there."
When an
opening appeared, the man stood up and paused to give Tim a chance to
get up as well. He slung the backpack over his shoulder and moved
toward the front of the plane, nodding automatically to the flight
attendants as he entered the walkway. It angled off at the end and he
couldn't see into the terminal as he walked, unsure whether he wanted
to hurry or if he was afraid.
He
followed the crowd through the bend in the walkway and suddenly found
himself in the cavernous gate, pushed along a cordoned-off pathway
into the concourse.
He reached
the end of the rope and stood to the side of the crowd, desperately
searching for someone who might be his father. His stomach was so
tight he thought he was going to throw up.
And, then,
he saw him. Standing on the edge of the crowd, looking right at him,
a look of fear and hope on his face. He almost didn't look old
enough, but little bikini model
Tim was certain. Tall and slender, his strawberry-blond
hair sweeping down over his forehead and touching his collar, he
seemed unable to move; but, then, neither could Tim. They both stared
at each other for a long moment until, at the same time, they both
tentatively began to step forward.
When they
were just a few feet from each other, the man swallowed, visibly
scared, and said, in a shaking voice, "Tim?"
"Dad?"
Slowly,
smiles formed on both their faces and then they began to laugh,
holding their preeteen best models
arms out in recognition that they had mysteriously
dressed identically.
"This
is amazing," his father said.
"This
is cool!" Tim replied.
And,
suddenly, they were embracing, his dad's arms around him, and Tim’s
face resting against the man's chest. Tim's arms held his father
tightly and all the fears he had felt dissolved.
He felt a
hand pat his shoulder and amanda robbins model
he looked up, still embracing his father,
still embraced by his father. He saw the man who had sat next to him
on the plane.
"See?
I told you it'd be OK!"
The man
winked and walked on as Tim grinned.
Yes. It
was OK.

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