It’s summer. The air is perfectly warm, the sunlight filtering down through the leaves in a way that feels crisp and optimistic. Even though it’s getting to be fairly late in the afternoon, the temperature remains comfortable; it’s likely to be nice enough to remain outside well after dark. The perfect weather for camping.
It’s not exactly a full wilderness excursion; the site Darryl has chosen for himself and his son is part of a public campgrounds—near enough to the road to still see the truck they arrived in—with a large metal bowl for a firepit and designated zoning for the tent. Still, it is on the edge of the woods—the air full of the scent of pine, close enough to the lake for them to fish and far enough from any of the other sites that they have privacy, which is important.
Jonas has never been a particularly enthusiastic camper. Darryl suspects his son puts up with it mostly to humor his father. At least he doesn’t particularly complain about it either. He’s almost eighteen now, and a bit of a bookworm; even out in the wilderness (well, alright, wilderness-adjacent) like this, he’s still spent most of the afternoon lounging in his camping chair and reading some fantasy book he got from the library. Darryl’s not mad about it, per se, but it truly feels alien to him; he was always much more of a man of action, even at Jonas’s age.
Besides which, there are certainly some things Jonas will never be able to learn from a book, no matter how detailed. For the fourth time in the past twenty minutes or so, Darryl glances towards the road that approaches the campsite. Any minute now...
Ah! There it is! A light gray van with a logo of happy children on the side crunches down the gravel towards the campsite and pulls up to park next to Darryl’s truck. Jonas looks up from his book.
“Is someone here?” he asks. “I thought we had the site booked for another two days still.”
Darryl grins. “I’ve been expecting them,” he says cryptically. He pulls himself up. “Since this is technically your birthday outing, I thought I’d get you an early present. Looks like it just arrived.”
“Oh,” says Jonas, surprised. “Uh, sure then. Thanks.” He puts his book away and gazes towards the road as the door to the van slams shut. A man in dark, official-looking clothes has stepped out of the vehicle and is beginning to pick his way across the grass to the campsite, a smaller figure trailing in his wake. Darryl walks over to meet them, holding out a hand for the man to shake.
“Hey there,” he says warmly. “Great to see you.”
The man nods and turns back, holding his hand out towards the approaching smaller figure. “This is Owen,” he says, voice cool and business-like. “He’ll be joining you for the next two days. Please take good care of him.” He hands Darryl a business card, classy and embossed in gold. “Call that number if you encounter any issues. Otherwise, I will be back to collect him again at the end of your trip. Thank you for choosing Ganymede Foster.”
Darryl salutes the man with the business card and puts it in his pocket, then looks down at Owen, standing at the man’s side with an air of skepticism.
The young child has short dark hair and vibrant green eyes that scan the campsite with uncertainty. He’s dressed for camping in blue athletic shorts and a matching blue polo shirt with a white collar. The outfit reveals a good deal of pale skin, especially the plump thighs beneath the too-small shorts. Darryl feels his mouth begin to water.
The business man nods towards Darryl and heads back towards the van without so much as a backwards glance at the boy. As he leaves, Jonas's voice drifts up from the campsite behind him.
“Uh... you brought a kid?” he asks, his own voice just as skeptical as the child looks.
“Mmhmm,” says Darryl, pleased. He puts a possessive hand between Owen’s shoulderblades and steers the child towards the chair where Jonas is still sitting. Behind him, he hears the rumble of an engine and the crunch of gravel once more as the van drives away. “Given you’re about to be a legal adult, I figured it’s about time you learn a few things about some... adult activities.”
He doesn’t wait for the boys to acknowledge his meaning, but instead gets right to business. He drags Owen to Jonas’s side and crouches down, reaching forward for his son’s pants and unsnapping the button as Jonas’s eyes widen. Before his son can react, he pulls down the teen’s pants and underwear just far enough to reveal the young man’s cock, which seems to be quicker on the uptake than he is, already twitching as though sniffing the air.
He grabs Owen’s hair and yanks the boy’s head down onto his son’s crotch. “Suck him,” he commands.
Owen doesn’t look particularly happy, but it seems he’s been told what’s expected of him. He opens his little mouth and gamely begins to mouth up and down along the length of the penis that has been presented to him.
“W-what?” Jonas goggles, voice full of panic. “What the fuck?”
“Language,” Darryl reminds him, but he has some sympathy. “Don’t worry about it,” he assures him. “Just sit back, relax, and enjoy your birthday present. Time for a hands-on lesson about what adulthood really means.”
Jonas looks like he’s going to protest, but any words he might have had are swallowed back in a groan as Owen sticks his tongue out and begins to diligently lick the head of his cock all the way around. Darryl smirks and goes to his backpack to retrieve the lube.
He takes his time, enjoying the wet slurping sounds of the young boy feasting on his son’s cock. He really seems to be going to town! There’s even a few wanton, desperate little moans that escape alongside the boy’s breath as he does his best to do as he’s been told. Seems like Ganymede Foster really does supply what they’re asked for.
He digs through his pack and finds the lube quickly enough, then returns to sit in his own camping chair next to Jonas and watch the proceedings. His son’s hands are now in the boy’s hair, clenching and unclenching as waves of pleasure wash over him. The boy has managed to fit about half of Jonas’s cock in his mouth at this point, and seems to be sucking it with abandon. Jonas’s own mouth is open and panting slightly.
Darryl considers prepping the boy now, but it won’t be a proper tutorial if Jonas can’t watch him do it. Instead he’s content to remain where he is, enjoying the show as Owen swallows Jonas down with surprising skill considering his meager age.
Finally, Jonas appears to be getting close. His hands clutch the boy’s head, holding it still, and his hips begin to shake and shudder. With a last cry his pelvis jerks upward, forcing his cock deeper into the boy’s mouth, and he comes in silent spasms. Owen bears through it as Jonas fills his mouth with cum, holding steady until Jonas’s wracking shudders finally cease, and then demurely swallowing the substance left behind in his mouth.
“There we go,” Darryl encourages, pleased. “Very nice. Now, let me show you how to get him prepped to really enjoy him proper.”
“Uh... huh?” Jonas says vaguely, looking too blissed out to fully comprehend what’s going on around him. Darryl smirks. He reaches forward to Owen’s crouched form and begins to take off the boy’s pants and underwear, exposing his smooth, petite rear. He manhandles the boy into position until he’s on his hands and knees, bottom completely bare and facing Jonas.
“Here we are,” he tells his son conversationally. He grabs one of Owen’s little buttocks in each hand and pulls them apart, displaying his asshole plain and clear for his son to see. “This here’s the real treasure. A mouth’s all well and good, but there’s nothing quite like fucking a tight little ass. Ain’t that a beautiful sight?”
Jonas cracks an eye open. “Language,” he says ironically.
Darryl laughs. “A cute little hole like this is perfect for an enjoyable afternoon, but you gotta make sure you get it good and wet first. Don’t want to hurt yourself with too much friction.” He holds up the little plastic tube of lube as demonstration, and snaps open the cap, squeezing some onto his fingers. “Let’s get him nice and opened up for you.”
Rubbing the gel onto his fingers, he proceeds to massage the boy’s hole with a pointer finger, still holding the boy’s cheek to one side with his other hand so that Jonas has a clear view of just what is happening to the child. After stroking up and down gently over the boy’s anus for a few moments, Darryl slowly, carefully begins to press the digit into the boy.
Owen whimpers but does not protest as his rear entrance is breached by Darryl’s exploring finger. Darryl pushes it slowly but steadily inside, still taking his time, allowing the boy’s muscles to gradually relax around him as the finger works its way deeper and deeper. His angle is not exactly perfect; he’s facing Jonas, as is Owen’s ass, so he has to reach over the boy and curl his finger around to get it inside. As a result, he can’t quite get the digit as deep as he’d like to. Still, he prefers this position; he can watch the way his son’s face is rapt with attention, staring at his father’s finger slipping inside the little boy’s rectum. Satisfied, Darryl begins to add the second finger alongside the first, popping it through the ring of muscle and gradually embedding it next to the first.
As he starts to fuck the boy with his fingers, plunging them in and out, he holds the little tube out towards Jonas, over Owen’s back. “Here,” he offers. “You try it. Lube up two or three fingers nice and slick, then work them inside him until he loosens up and takes them without trouble.”
He continues to pump his fingers in and out of the boy’s hole until Jonas does as he’s instructed. The young man carefully, dutifully coats his fingers, looking nervous. When he’s finally finished, he looks up to his father for confirmation.
Darryl nods and removes his own fingers, once again holding the boy’s cheeks apart so that Jonas has a clean shot at his target.
Jonas takes a deep breath and lines up two of his own fingers at the boy’s pucker. As he exhales, he begins to push, forcing them into the boy with the same slow, steady pressure as his father had.
“Theeeere we go,” Darryl encourages, watching his son’s fingers disappear millimeter by millimeter into the boy’s rear end. “Once they’re all the way in you can start moving them back and forth. Give his little hole a taste of what’s coming. Heh. So to speak.”
Jonas does not reply, his gaze fixed instead on his own fingers as they sink steadily into the child’s passage. Darryl looks down at Owen’s face; the boy’s eyes are tightly shut, his face screwed up in discomfort.
“Well now,” Darryl notes, “I suppose we should make sure you’re proper occupied while Jonas preps you, huh?” So saying he lets go of the boy’s buttocks to take his chin in hand instead. With his spare hand he undoes his own fly and pulls out his cock, already mostly hard. He guides it contentedly to Owen’s mouth and sticks the head in past the child’s lips. “Why don’t you suck me off in the meantime, hm?” he says, genial. “Give you something to focus on.”
Owen doesn’t appear to want this particular distraction, but Darryl barely pays him any attention. He pushes his hips forward, seating himself comfortably in the boy’s mouth, and returns his attention to watching his son prep the boy’s rear end.
Jonas finally manages to get his fingers all the way inside, far deeper than his father was able to. He takes another shuddery breath and draws them out slightly, then abruptly slams them back in. Darryl watches with a feeling of pride as Jonas proceeds to ram his fingers into the boy over and over, as though punishing him. He feels the child’s muffled protest vibrate its way up his cock from where it’s trapped in the boy’s throat.
“That’s it,” he encourages, as his son rapidly pumps his fingers, squelching in Owen’s hole. “You got it.”
From his vantage, he can see that his son’s cock is starting to get hard again, recovered from its previous climax. He gestures at the nearby lube. “I think he’s probably prepped enough, at least to avoid hurting you. If you actually care about the owner of the hole you’re doing, you usually want to spend a lot more time on prep. But this should do for now. Make sure you slick yourself up too before you dive in.”
Jonas glances up at him, eyes wide, uncertain, but he reaches for the lube once more as instructed. He’s quick as he slicks himself up, impatient, and then hurriedly discards the tube as soon as he's finished preparing. Then he shuffles forward onto his knees in the dirt of the campsite, moving into place behind the boy.
“Find the target and line yourself up,” Darryl instructs. “And then whenever you’re ready, push.” He emphasizes the word by pushing his own cock deeper into Owen’s mouth, feeling the head hit the back of the boy’s throat and forcing him to choke it down.
Jonas follows his directions, holding his cock in place as he aligns the head with the little hidden pucker. Then he pushes forward, breaching the boy, letting go as his dick hits true and begins to penetrate the tight passage, sinking inside. Jonas lets out a choked moan of his own as he fills the boy. “Nngh, I can feel him clenching around me,” he reports.
“That’s right,” Darryl confirms. “Just goes to show how much his slutty little body loves it, trying to draw you in deeper. Now, you can start thrusting even before you’re all the way inside; the motion’ll help you get yourself deeper.”
Jonas does as he’s told, his hips beginning to swivel, and proceeds to pound the boy’s ass. As promised, each thrust forces a little bit more of his cock into the boy, allowing him to sink steadily deeper and deeper into the tight passage. After half a dozen or so such motions, Jonas is fully seated in Owen’s rectum and begins to pound him in earnest, his thrusts deep and fast. Owen whimpers again, but once more the sound fails to escape past the barrier of Darryl’s cock.
Darryl matches his son’s rhythm, fucking the boy’s face in time with Jonas’s thrusts. Together they spit the boy between them, spearing him from both ends, filling him intimately with their flesh. Birdsong flutters through the air, wind rustles the leaves, and the wet squelches of the boy’s thoroughly debauched holes ring in accompaniment.
They fuck the boy continuously between them for as long as they can manage. Darryl is actually fairly impressed with his son’s stamina. Jonas slams into the boy over and over with no sign of stopping, holding onto the child’s hips for dear life. Granted he’s already come once, but even so. Darryl didn’t know the kid had it in him.
Finally, Darryl finds to his embarrassment that he can’t keep up. He comes hard into the boy’s mouth, forcing him to swallow his second load of cum for the afternoon. He holds his softening cock still in the boy’s mouth for a few moments, enjoying the aftershocks of pleasure, before finally drawing back out and reluctantly putting himself away, at least for now.
Moving out of the way, however, appears to give Jonas more room to work. He surges forward, forcing Owen’s torso down into the dirt, and grabs the boy’s arms, pulling them backwards for leverage. With this new found handhold, he’s able to thrust himself forward all the harder, pulling the boy back to meet him and slamming his cock as deep into the hole as it can go, grinding it into him. He’s harsh, fevered, and moments later he comes, his hips twitching as his cock nestles balls-deep in the boy and unloads, filling the child with his sperm.
He’s breathing hard as he comes down, his body slowly and painfully unclenching as though from rigor mortis. Finally he falls backwards with a rough sigh, his softening cock slipping reluctantly out of the boy’s passage as he sits heavily, catching his breath.
Darryl claps him on the shoulder. “‘Atta boy,” he encourages. “Not bad for your first go, huh?”
Jonas swallows and nods, as though he doesn’t trust himself to talk.
“And hey,” Darryl points out, “we’ve got two more days of camping left. Let’s see if we can’t fall asleep one of these nights with both of us buried up his ass at the same time, huh?”
Jonas looks up at him, eyes wide. Darryl winks in return. “Happy birthday, son.”