A profound and unexpected connection between a cop and a jock in the Hallmark aisle.
Hey there! We’re back in action this week with a new Story Time post to make up for all the silence the past few weeks. In between the work I’ve been doing on my site, and trying to settle into a new situation in Toronto, I haven’t had time to sit down and do these posts right, like they need to be done. But I’m slowly making it happen! I’m getting ready to start investing a bit of extra time into Badwolf/Blog in the next few months, too. So if there are features or fixes you’d like to see happen here, please get in touch or leave a comment (even if I don’t reply, I read everything that comes in).
On with the story! Today’s entry comes from prolific adulty story author Bill Drake, and is based on a randomly inspirational tumblr photo he spotted.
What I really liked about this story is the underlying tenderness and vulnerability explored between these two ostensibly masc men; one an archetypal high school high school jock, and the other an archetypal authority figure. It is interesting and arousing to watch nuance play out between them in ways that their roles generally don’t reward. A cop is meant to be tough and aggressive, not betraying his own insecurities about his middle-agedness to young men the hopes will like him back. And jocks aren’t meant to be having their first kisses with father-aged men in the park after dark. And neither is “meant” to be exploring and fulfilling emotional and sexual need with other men.
But Drake’s storytelling here allows each of them to be exposed and unsure – within and outside of their roles as cop and jock – while still allowing the reader to be aroused and to relate to each of them in particular ways. As characters, they are drawn exactly as finely as is necessary, and the edges that aren’t clarified, are left open for the reader to impose their own versions of these men based on their own experiences and desires.
Father’s Day Card
by Bill Drake | via the Nifty Archive
There comes a time in a young man’s life when a combination of lust and hormones, rather than any conscious decision, drives his actions. Drew Carson was about to have that important moment. The 1st string running back on the Jefferson High team shuffled nervously in the greeting cards section of the drug store. To the casual observer he was a normal high school jock, maybe a little more clean-cut and well-mannered than most. But as he sorted through the cards listlessly he kept sneaking glances down the aisle.
Ten feet down was a man not as tall as he was, but with the fuller build of a man in his late 40s. Probably 6’1″, the man had a distinguished DILFy look with gray temples popping out against a tan face weathered from the outdoor time spend on his job. He wasn’t the most muscular police officer on the force, but he filled out the tan Sheriff’s Dept. uniform nicely: big shoulders, powerful chest, and strong arms popped from the short sleeve shirt. He had a hint of a belly attesting to his middle-aged years, but even that he carried well in his poly uniform. Drew had been doing a lot of jerking off lately and a lot of exploring porn about real men…. muscle guys, cops, daddy types. This guy seemed to be all of Drew’s fantasies rolled into one.
That’s why he stood there, unable to leave, trying to watch the police officer as much as he dared without attracting attention.
Drew picked up another card and desperately wished the little girl at the far end of the aisle would join her mother at the cash register. At last the girl left and Drew took in a deep breath and took a couple steps leftward, toward the officer. He wasn’t sure the words were going to come out of his mouth but they did.
“Tough finding a card, huh?”
Sgt. Roger Jones looked up, surprised at the presence of a young athlete next to him, dressed in the undeniable unofficial uniform of a high school jock: a Cardinals ball cap hiding most of his blond hair, a white Jefferson High team T-shirt stretched over his teen muscle, faded jeans hanging a little low on the waist, and flip flops. He was undeniably young, a high school kid, the police sergeant thought immediately, but something prematurely adult, too… the build, the stature, the confidence the kid had.
Immediately, Jones went into Officer Friendly mode and broke into a laugh. “Don’t ya know it. My wife told me to pick up something for our niece’s birthday party. How the hell am I supposed to know which card to get?”
Drew smiled, feeling a little more relaxed. “I know, right? They’re all cheesy, your niece probably doesn’t care as long as there’s a gift card inside.”
Up close the man looked even better, the flecks of gray in his brown eyes, the slight wrinkles in his face looking distinguished and masculine and the hint of a full heavy beard lurking beneath the regulation neat shave, the perfect white teeth that seemed incongruous with his masculine looks. The athlete was glad he’s broken the ice, and was able to get a full-on view. Something for his jackoff session later.
“You’re probably right,” the cop laughed and put down one of the cards he was looking at. He started to pick up one at random and walk away when he stopped. Not ready to end the conversation. “What are you looking for?”
Drew gave a nervous shrug. “It’s for my dad. Father’s Day.”
“I take it the gift card trick’s not gonna work then,” Jones joked.
“No sir,” Drew answered, chuckling before his face got serious. “You know, we’re not that close lately, but well, I want him to know how important he is to me.” The athlete felt embarrassing for sharing something so personal with this complete stranger, but something about this policeman’s calm, laid back demeanor brought it out in him.
The officer felt a lump of emotion in his throat. “I’m sure he knows. We dads aren’t always good at expressing ourselves, but we can usually tell what our kids are thinking.”
“Yeah?” Drew looked Sgt. Jones in the eye with an intense look of expectation.
“I got a boy of my own. Sometimes I don’t tell him that I love him or that I’m proud of him, like I ought to. I dunno, I guess I worry he’ll think he’s grown too old for that.”
Drew shook his head. “He won’t sir. Not if he’s like me.”
The young man’s heartfelt reply took Jones by surprise. His son hadn’t given him a Father’s Day card in a few years, and the policeman figured he had some responsibility in the fact he and his boy weren’t as close as they used to be. But damnit, raising a teenager was a challenge.
Now it was Jones who stepped a little closer to Drew and put his hand paternally on the running back’s shoulder. “I guess there’s a bond you never grow out of, huh?”
The man’s fingers were now gently massaging Drew’s muscular shoulder, sending electricity straight to the teen’s cock. “No, sir.” God, the man’s hands felt good on his shoulder and the running back took in a little deep breath as the cop’s strong fingers gently worked the deltoid muscle.
Jones pulled his hand back all of a sudden and seemed to be mulling something over in his mind. “You want to go to the park some time, toss around a football? Jake doesn’t seem to have time for his old man lately, and I thought… well….” his voice trailed off and his face blushed a bright crimson.
“I…. I’d like that, Officer.”
The older man smiled. “Listen, I’m on shift now, and got this goddamn birthday party to go to, but if you can wait till after dinnertime, I can meet you at Perkins Park, next to the baseball diamond.”
Drew Carson shook the man’s hand in a strong grip, agreeing to meet later that Saturday.
Drew showed up at the park just shy of 8PM, dressed in the Jefferson High practice jersey and cut off shorts he usually did drills with. He was tossing his favorite football, the one his Dad had given him for his 13th birthday. He felt a little weird now. For Christ’s sake, he didn’t even know the police officer’s name, and here he was waiting for the man to show up and toss some ball. The cop would show up, Drew knew, there was something fundamentally honest and reliable about the man. Something that made Drew feel safe, almost comfortable. He felt guilty lusting after the police officer, guilty that he’d gone home and dropped his short and jacked his hard teen jock rod thinking of the man, and guilty that he’d stopped shy of cumming, hoping that something might happen later.
Now, standing there, waiting, Drew felt stupid for those fantasies. The bright mercury lights were on at the baseball diamond, and a recreational game was going on. While the park was otherwise empty, they would hardly be alone or have a chance for anything inappropriate. The dude was just coming over to throw a fucking football.
But the idea stuck in the back of the athlete’s head. And when Jones showed up, all changed into a casual polo shirt and shorts, Drew’s heart skipped a beat. The man was hot, really amazingly hot. The perfect daddy type, with the middle-aged muscle now visible in the snug polo and the strong hairy legs in his shorts. The biceps looked as big and round and powerful in casual short-sleeve shirt as they did the uniform. Roger gripped Drew’s hand in a strong shake, and Drew did his best to return the grip with full strength. His salt-and-pepper hair was freshly showered, still damp, with some product that added some sheen, and he smelled fresh, with just a hint of woody, citrus-spiced cologne.
“Been waiting long?” the man greeted.
“No, sir.” Drew felt nervous and hesitant now, but the man’s presence also excited him. “Your niece like her card?”
Roger laughed. “Pretty much like you said. She liked the gift card inside it.” He took the ball from Drew’s hands. “Ready to toss a few?”
The officer started out with a few gentle lobs, then threw more powerful throws, which were matched by the precision throws back at him.
“You play for Jefferson High, right?” he observed.
“Yessir,” the jock replied. “Running back.”
Roger smiled as Drew went wide and caught a particularly far-reaching throw. “You got the body for it. But with that arm you could be quarterback.”
Drew hurled it back, a beeline of a throw into Roger’s strong hands. “I used to want to be. But Tommy Stillwell is about the best quarterback Jefferson’s seen in a while.”
Roger’s next statement caught Drew off guard and caused him to drop the ball tossed his way. “I should come by and see you guys play this Fall.”
“That’d be great, sir. I mean, if you want. It’s just a high school game,” he said modestly, “not as exciting as watching Mizzou.” He tossed the ball back with as much power as he could muster. It was like he wanted to impress the father figure.
“High school ball’s the best,” Roger answered matter of factly. “I bet you’re a real star on the field.”
“I do OK, sir.”
“I’m a little rusty,” Sgt. Jones said. “You know I’m not going to challenge you much here.” Indeed, while his throws were generally good, they lacked
the precision that Drew was used to in drills.
“That’s OK, I’m having fun.”
“Me, too,” Roger said. Then after a few tosses: “Why don’t you make me run for ’em? The old man could use the exercise.”
Drew shuddered when Roger called himself that. This really did feel like the father-son bonding he’d missed and craved. “You sure, Pop?” he teased. “I’m gonna throw this one wide.”
“Let me have it, boy,” Roger said enthusiastically and went off as if he were running a called play. He was sure he was gonna miss it, the ball was sailing fast above his head, but he put extra speed to his run, sprinting so he was out of breath, and reached out his arms just in split-second time he fastened his long fingers around the traveling pigskin, then clenched it to his body as he tumbled forward and into the glad.
“Yeah!” Drew cried. “Stud!”
Roger was winded but feeling the glow of accomplishment when he stood up. “Let’s see if you can top that, son,” he said and pulled back his arm for a long throw….
It was getting dusk out and the park was clearing out. The two men had thrown the ball around for a good hour before laughing and sitting down in the grass. The baseball game was over now, but the bright lights still illuminated the field in a yellowish glow.
Something was on Drew’s mind but he didn’t know if he should bring it up. “Your son, does he go to Jefferson?” The athlete still didn’t know the officer’s last name even, and was regretting not looking at his name badge earlier in the drug store. Maybe the guy’s son was one of his classmates.
Roger shook his head. “Nah, Jake goes to Westminster,” naming the private school a couple of towns over. “I wanted him to go to public school, but my wife insisted. You know what they say? Happy wife, happy life.”
Drew laughed. “Well, I bet he like it there. I hear it’s a great school.”
“Maybe he’s having a little too much fun. I think sometimes he acts out for having a cop for a dad,” Roger said, then seeing Drew’s expression, he added, “Oh nothing serious. At least not yet. But Jake can be a handful.”
“I guess I don’t have that problem. Only. Well my parents keep hounding me if I have a girlfriend.”
Roger sensed what Drew was getting at. “And you don’t want a girlfriend.” A statement, a confirmation, not a question.
“No sir,” Drew was practically shaking as he admitted this to the older man.
Roger gripped his shoulder affectionately and drew the teen’s body closer to his. “Don’t listen to any advice an over-the-hill middle aged guy gives you, but, well, my advice is that you gotta find your happiness. Don’t live your life for others.”
Drew looked into the man’s eyes, a look of gratitude on his face. “You’re not over the hill, sir.” He wanted to say more but worried he’d said too much already.
If Roger was offended he wasn’t showing it. “If Jake said that he’d just be buttering me up for more allowance.”
As they talked, their hands edging closer to one another, inching in the grass until they finally touched. Drew exhaled a sigh and Roger smiled. Both men grew erect in their shorts as their fingers now rubbed one another and intertwined.
Suddenly the field lights flicked off for the night and Drew and Roger were sitting in the dark.
Sgt. Jones couldn’t help it. He arm snaked up along Drew’s trim side and around his back, pulling the teen jock toward him.
Drew didn’t know what his first kiss would be like, but this was surpassing his expectations. Beyond perfect. He got light headed as he opened his mouth and let the man’s soft tongue enter, teasing his own tongue and exploring his mouth. And when he pushed his tongue into the officer’s mouth, his nostrils flared in lust and his cock throbbed.
At his crotch, Roger’s fingers were pawing the hard teen mound, working its steely length, and now peeling the practice shorts down.
“Daddy loves you, son,” he growled into Drew’s mouth, making the athlete’s dick spurt into the man’s hand. “I want to show you. Will you let your dad show you?”
Drew nodded fervently, unable to speak as the DILF officer leaned down and in the middle of the quiet open field took Drew’s cock into his mouth.
“Ummn,” Drew cried, biting his lip to keep from letting out any noise. This is what a blowjob felt like! So much better than jacking off and well, it was just different. Intense. He had nothing to compare it to but this older man was good at it. Really good. Drew ran his fingers through the medium-short salt and pepper hair, urging the man, thanking him. He couldn’t hold off much longer. “Oh, I’m gonna..” he whispered, but the police officer wasn’t pulling off. Instead he sucked harder and faster and the teen jock had his first orgasm with another man, sending volleys of hot cum into the man’s hungry throat.
The tension drained from Drew’s body and the grip lightened on the man’s head as Roger licked and bobbed and sucked Drew through the aftershocks of orgasm. When the man leaned up he gave the young man a deep kiss, the remnants of the stud’s cum still on his tongue, but it didn’t seem to bother the athlete, who was now fumbling at Roger’s zipper. The man gave an assist, undoing his button and letting his dick free.
“Your turn, Dad,” Drew now growled and leaned forward, his excitement helping him overcome the hesitation of inexperience. Up close and bared, the man’s dick was beautiful: not record breaking in cock size, but hard and powerful. Drew licked it up and down, savoring the salty taste and getting off on the man’s evident excitement. Finally as his mouth neared the top of the shaft, where a pearly drop of salty sap collected, he felt Roger’s hands firmly on his head.
“Please, son, suck Daddy,” he whispered and pushed his dickhead in Drew’s open mouth. Drew wasn’t sure exactly what to do, other than bob up and down a little. Roger seemed to take control, though, thrusting his cock in and out, not too hard but with an urgent insistence and a need to get off. “Daddy’s gonna cum,” he growled and sure enough a jet of sweet-bitter sperm filled his mouth and traveled down his through in peristalsis waves.
Drew was proud as fuck when Roger’s ejaculation was finally done and he pulled off, leaning back up. He’d sucked a man off! Not only that, he’d sucked this perfect specimen of manhood off and given him the penultimate pleasure of orgasm. “Did I do OK?” he asked, wanting confirmation.
“You were the best, buddy,” Roger said and met Drew in a slow, appreciative kiss. They made out like that, romantically almost, for a good fifteen minutes, before Roger broke it. “It’s getting late, son. I gotta get back I’m afraid.”
“Yeah,” the athlete acknowledged. They pulled their shorts back on and stood up, dusting the grass and dirt off.
Silently they walked back to their cars, their hands bumping playfully against one another. Until they were at the parking area and it was time to part. “Um,” Sgt. Jones said. “Ok if I give you my number?”
Drew tossed his football into his car window and reached into his pocket for his phone. The cop gave him number and added, “My name’s Roger by the way.”
Drew smiled, as if getting the man’s first name was a cherished gift. “Drew,” he said. And the two shook hands. “I’ll call you and you’ll have my contact.”
Drew felt a relief as he sat in the driver’s seat of his car. He didn’t want this night to end. At least now there was the chance for a repeat. Anyway, he liked talking with Roger, hanging out with the man. Even if nothing else happened. He was about to start the car when Roger appeared at his window.
“Let me know if your dad likes his Father’s Day card. He’s lucky to have a son like you.” He clapped Drew’s shoulder thoughtfully, then turned and walked off to his own car.
Father’s Day Card is part of the Horny Dad Tales series is written by Bill Drake. And it’s published over at the Nifty Archive. You can find all of the other Horny Dad Tales installments here.
The header image features an illustration by Artwhore. The other illustrations in this story are by Roger Payne, Valentine, and Xavier Gicquel
Follow Bill Drake on tumblr.
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