It was a peaceful summer afternoon in the Egbert household. John was on a date with the girl down the street at a local fair, and Dad was in the kitchen, whipping up a cake for the two lovebirds for when they arrived home. Cracking the eggs into a bowl, Dad thought about how happy John was with that girl, and how lonely he truly was. Of course he had John and his friends for company, but he couldn't help but wish that he had someone to spend his time with in that regard. It had been so long, he was starting to consider just about anyone! As he got the milk out of the fridge, he pondered his group of friends. Were any of them open to a relationship of any kind with him? Surely there must be someone. Sliding a pat of butter into the batter, he sighed. He wasn't too sure about any of that
Suddenly, there came a knock at the door. Dad wiped his hands and took off his apron. All the people he knew were either at the fair, or at work, or doing something else with someone else. He was quite positive that nobody he knew was at knocking on his door. Peeking out the window next to the door, all Dad could see was a head full of bleached, shaggy hair. Recognition filled his eyes; he knew precisely who this person was, and he also knew precisely why this person was currently at his house. All he could do was think how lucky it was for him that John was probably going to be gone for quite a while yet. Loosening his tie, he yanked open the door.
The red eyes behind the shades glared up at him defiantly. "Sup Egbert. Long time no see." Striding through the front door, Dave Strider looked around the living room and sniffed. "You bakin' a cake? Again? Dude this has got to be an obsession with you." With that, he walked into the kitchen. "Strider, you know John might be back at any time. I really don't want him to find us doing this." Dad went back to mixing his bowl of batter while Dave walked around aimlessly. Perking up, he turned back. "Dude, relax. I saw him at the fair with that one chick. Nepeta something? Whatever. Point is, he's having way too much fun to come back here for a long time." Placing his bowl of cake mix back on the counter, Dad looked straight at Dave. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Sitting on the counter, the boy scrutinized him. "Hell yeah, pops!" Having said that he kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his black jeans.
Lowering his shades only an inch or so, he winked at the older man standing a few feet away from him. Acting slowly and sensually, the boy gradually worked his pants down to around his ankles, revealing the smuppet boxers he wore underneath. Dad took his hat off his head and his pipe out of his mouth and laid both the objects on the kitchen counter. As he walked over to where Dave was perched, he nonchalantly unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt. He ran his hand up the side of the younger boy's leg, leaning forward as he did so. Leaning even farther, he began to kiss Dave's neck, bringing his hand up to the crotch of the blond haired boy, rubbing slowly. This aroused Dave much more than he let on, but Dad could tell what the boy was feeling. "Aw man, that's not fair, old man," he breathed as Dad caressed his groin a little more forcefully. Beneath his left hand, he could feel the countertop seemingly getting harder as he squeezed it tighter and tighter; in his right hand, he could feel Dave's shaft getting harder of its own accord. Suddenly, Dad twisted his head and bit Dave's neck. The sound that he made was unmistakable. It was one of pure exhilaration and anticipation.
Deciding to take things to the next level, Dad slipped his thumb under the waistband of Dave's boxers. He slowly moved his hand along the boy's waist, sometimes dipping in deeper, sometimes pulling his hand higher up. Bringing his other hand down to Dave's feet, he deftly untied both of his trainers. "Now take them off," Dad whispered in his ear. "Everything below the waist?" Dave smirked up at him. "Of course." Dave started by kicking off his sneakers, one after the other, with his socks quickly following suit. He struggled a bit when his tight jeans caught around the ankles, but Dad soon helped him out. Leaning back on the counter so as to get the boxers off of his rear end, he looked the older man square in the eye and licked his lips. In one fell swoop, the undergarment was on the floor along with all his other clothes, exposing his cock to the brisk kitchen air. Dad ran his hand up his leg once more, this time moving a bit faster. When he reached Dave's crotch for the second time, he began to stroke his shaft, slowly and sensually. He gripped tightly, and moved his hand up and down in rhythmic strokes. Dave's fingers curled on to the counter's edge; he was still fairly new to the whole thing. Dad thrust downwards particularly fast, and Dave couldn't help but let out a gasp. Now Dad's arousal was beginning to become more obvious, as his erection was visible through his khaki trousers.
Taking a break from his pumping, he began to unbutton his starched work shirt. Once all the buttons were loose, he slipped his shirt off, calmly slipping his arms through the sleeves. He suddenly grabbed Dave's hips, dragging him closer to the edge of the counter. With his rear end situated on the edge, Dad moved his hands down to the thighs. He leaned down, and brought his mouth closer and closer to Dave's cock. The younger boy tensed in anticipation. Slanting his head back up, Dad cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? Getting a little excited, are we?" Without saying a word, Dave shot a glare down at him, practically screaming "Hurry up!" Chuckling softly to himself, Dad brought his lips back down and began to blow him. Soon, Dave was panting and gasping, trying to hold it all in. But under the pressure, he soon gave in, squirting into Dad's mouth.
Standing up, Dad decided to take a bold move. Leaning over, he spat Dave's cum into the bowl of cake mix. Standing up properly, he picked up the bowl and spoon and began to stir heartily. Humming slightly, he turned his back on Dave and became absorbed in his mixing. "Hey old man, some of us aren't done here!" This sudden change of events was not at all to Dave's liking. Without missing a beat, Dad turned his head ever so slightly and shot back, "Oh, do shut up while I prepare your treat." At these words, Dave sat back on the counter with an evident display of disgruntlement. After a few more minutes of the spoon moving through the batter, Dad finally turned back around. Holding up a glob of batter with the utensil, he grinned. "Open wide," he said, slowly walking over to Dave. He once again licked his lips in foretaste.
He held the spoon in a condescending manner towards the boy. Sticking his tongue out slightly, Dave caught a bit of mix about to drip off the spoon. Before he could bring his tongue back into his mouth, however, Dad pushed the tongue down into his lower lip, preventing him from swallowing. He pushed the spoon farther back into the boy's mouth, moving slowly so as to draw out Dave's excitement. At this point, he was practically panting from arousal, and his cheeks were a bright, burning red. He tried to swallow the batter already in his mouth, but the wooden spoon was by then so far backs into his mouth that he couldn't bring his throat to perform the action. He tried again, this time managing to force a little of the mixture down his throat this time. It felt surprisingly warm in his stomach. Dad drew the spoon back out of his mouth; it was virtually clean of batter, the majority of it having been left behind inside Dave's mouth. He wiped the utensil off using his shirt so as to remove some of the saliva still clinging to it. Once that was done, he returned the spoon to the mixing bowl.
Setting the bowl on the counter once again, he wiped his hands on his trousers. Looking at Dave dead in the eye, he brought his hands around to the top of his zipper. Quicker than the boy thought possible, he had is pants unbuttoned, unzipped, and on the floor. Still looking him in the eye, Dad spoke, almost whispered, "Why don't you come over here and help me with this?" Dave hopped off the counter and waltzed over to him. Kneeling to the ground, Dave began to work Dad's boxers off with a slow and methodical pace. Once the undergarments were off, the younger boy began to fondle his cock. He then scooped up another glob of batter. The older man brought the spoon towards Dave's mouth once again. Dave opened up his mouth, anticipating it. This time, however, Dad brought the spoon up above his own shaft, letting it drip down and cover it. For an added measure of kinkiness, he dipped the spoon back into the bowl to get more batter, and then began to spread it all around his genitalia, going so far as to dab a little into his pubic hair. Looking Dave squarely in the eye, he growled softly, "Now lick it all up."
Placing his hands on Dad's hips, the younger boy leaned in close. Gently at first, but soon adding more vigor and enthusiasm, he began to lick the mixture off of various places. He began to reach his tongue back towards the base of Dad's member, but then got a better idea; he simply began to shove his dick far back enough into his throat that he was able to gather the batter up on his lips. The contact between the man's head and the back of Dave's throat was almost too much for him to handle. Within a span of about a minute, he had lost all pretense of composure and was panting faintly. Dave wiped up the batter that he had missed with his hands and began to jerk Dad off, using the confection as lubricant. This action drove him over the edge, and he came all over Dave's face and hands.
Taking off his shades, Dave wiped the cum off of them onto his shirt. He then proceeded to lap up the extra cake mix and cum. When he was done, he smirked up at Dad. "If I get fuckin' salmonella from all this, you're paying my hospital bills, old man." Dad just sighed in return and tossed Dave his pants.