Work Text:
With the school year ending and John's grade's remaining as high as ever, Mr. Egbert couldn't help the twinge of pride over his son. He knew how tough it could get in those last few months, summer creeping up and tempting students into laziness. Especially students in the later grades. Even if his son were only a junior in high school, he'd heard the complaints of his coworkers over their children slacking off at this point, letting their grades slip, losing sight of where they want to go after high school. Not his John though, no, John was still a fabulous student- and Mr. Egbert felt he deserved a reward for that.
Normally, Mr. Egbert would simply take the time to create an extra special meal. But all of his meals were home cooked, and he baked desserts more often than not- at this point, doing so didn't really feel like he was doing something special. Instead, the decision was made to take John out to dinner. To somewhere nice, somewhere they'd both wear their dress slacks and ties. It was a good idea, and Mr. Egbert was pleased with himself once the reservation was made.
The dinner itself went smoothly with the pair seated in a more private alcove. John had been surprised, but he'd dressed up when his father had asked him to, and he had smiled the whole time. They'd chatted idly about events the school would be hosting, what with the year coming to a close, and John enthused about which ones he would get to help out with.
Things got a little mixed up around dessert. Mr. Egbert, feeling that John had earned a little something extra, allowed John a glass or two of wine with dinner. By time he was eating his decadent slice of cake and John was picking at his sherbert, his son's usually mischievous smile had gone to the next level. Oh, he knew what alcohol did to his son, and he planned for them both to reap the benefits when they made it home.
John clearly didn't plan to wait that long.
He'd been raising a bite of cake to his mouth when he felt a foot brush against his leg under the table. Mr. Egbert smiled at his son, eyebrow raised.
"Yes, John?"
John's eyes darkened and his smile grew wider. He snaked his foot up the back of his father's leg, pleased by the way his sock slid along the dress slacks, barely bunching them up. He didn't stop when he reached his father's knee, kept going as his foot brushed along the inside of Mr. Egbert's thigh. He stopped just short of his destination. Oh, he wanted to press his foot into his dad's crotch, he really, really wanted to. To feel his father's erection hard behind the nice fabric of his slacks. Restrained and craving contact- to press into him and rub along his length and-
John's eye's fluttered shut as his father gasped. When John opened his eyes again his father regarded him with a tender smile and a half-lidded gaze. Their alcove was private enough, he must have decided. Cake abandoned, Mr. Egbert leaned back in his seat and lounged. His arms hooked over the edges of his booth seat and his legs spread, hips jutting forward in a more relaxed pose. It was a challenge.
It was less of a stretch now, for John's foot to come in contact with his father's groin but he put it off. He slid back down to his knee, and then back up again, toes curling against the thickness of his father's muscular thigh. This time he didn't pause, he slide straight to where he wanted to. He could feel his father's half-formed erection beneath the fabric and he groaned. He was a seventeen year old boy, the excitement alone was enough to have him straining against his own dress slacks. Caring less about their surroundings and more about his self-assigned task, John's face scrunched with concentration, eyes closed and mouth hanging slightly open as he rubbed his foot along his father's length. One eye peeked open when his father let out a soft groan, hips pushing up into John's foot, only to slip closed again as he changed his angle, dragging the hard line of his father's cock through the space between his toes, squeezing each time he got caught just under the head.
They continued on like this for a while, John clearly getting more and more worked up himself the longer he worked his dad over. By time Mr. Egbert gently removed his foot from his crotch, John was squirming in his seat, hands clutching at the fabric and hips twisting to rub his own erection through the wet spot that had formed in his boxers. As his father moved his foot away, he tried to calm down his breathing. They couldn't finish this here (well, they could, but he tried not to think about that too hard- it would not help him calm down in the least), he needed to catch his breath so they could go home.
Mr. Egbert adjusted his position, sitting more like a man enjoying his dessert, which would be left half-eaten- what a shame, rather than one receiving a foot job under the table. Cheeks slightly tinged red, he loosened his tie as he watched his son try to regain his composure. John's breathing was almost normal, and his flushed face looked more tipsy at this point rather than outrageously turned on. When his son gave him an encouraging, sincere smile he waved their waiter over and asked for their check.
He couldn't get them home fast enough. The drive was quiet, besides John's soft whines whenever they were stopped at a red light. He really, really couldn't get them home fast enough.
Destination reached, Mr. Egbert's clothes were the first to go. John sat on the edge of his father's bed, watching as he unbuttoned his own shirt. The sight of his father without clothes was always unbelievably hot. He often joked about his own copious amounts of mangrit, but Mr. Egbert outweighed him by far and all of it was muscle. Sometimes he couldn't decide where he wanted to look more. The way his father smiled at him melted his insides, it was so sweet and so- so sexy. But the slope of those strong shoulders or, oh god, his thick thighs that framed his already erect dick, thick like the rest of him and budding precome at the tip. John swallowed, eyes flicking across his father's body.
Mr. Egbert approached his son, hand outstretched, and pulled John up when their hands met.
"Thank you, dad..." gasped John as he was pulled flush against his father's strong chest.
He pressed a kiss against John's forehead. "You've got such good manners, son. You've done so well this year, I'm so proud of you."
While John shuddered against his father's chest, Mr. Egbert took his own tie, previously discarded, to wrap around his son's wrists. It was a nice one, the fabric silky smooth, and the knot was tied gently. John whimpered as his wrists were restrained and nuzzled his face against his father's collarbone.
With his son's wrists tied, Mr. Egbert pulled back slightly and tilted John's face to his with one hand. "I love you, John. You're the best a father could ask for."
His words were soft, tone gentle and John's heart ached when their lips met. His father was the best anyone could ask for, how could he even say that John was the best son, he'd screwed up plenty of things. A lifetime of thankfulness crashed through John and he couldn't help the small sob that escaped when his father pulled back. He leaned up, pressing his lips clumsily back to his father's. Open-mouthed, his tongue slid against the closed one against his until his father opened. John almost sagged in relief, intertwining the slick muscle with his fathers, moaning as strong hands pressed against his back to steady him. Drool escaped the corner of his mouth as the kiss grew more aggressive. His teeth clacked against his father's but he didn't care. The slick, slip slide of their lips, the catch of their tongues together, burned arousal through John, rapidly rekindling what arousal had faded during their drive home.
They pulled back, gasping, and Mr. Egberts hands made fast work of John's dress slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping and tugging them down. John rested his head against his father's shoulder as the taller man bent down to pull the pants off the rest of the way before pulling down his boxers as well. If he weren't so worked up, he might have been embarrassed over the large wet stain, but fuck, he was too turned on to care at this point.
With John's nearly naked, pants and underwear gone but shirt and tie hanging open over his upper body, Mr. Egbert directed him back towards the bed, until his knee's bumped against the edge and he had to bend them to climb atop the soft surface. John felt the cushion dip behind him as his father also climbed on and then those large, hot hands were back, one cupped against his shoulder and the other sliding up his thigh.
"Hnnnnnnng, d-dad," John stuttered, desperate for his father to make the next move. His hands flexed as they came in contact with his dad's hip. He wanted to touch his father- he wanted to be touched, fuck he was so hot right now. He felt the hard press of his father's erection against his ass and his dick twitched, achingly hard but leaning to the side, precome already dripping like a faucet down the side.
Hot lips pressed against his shoulder, his neck, his ear, and the feeling of his father's breath ghosting across the sensitive flesh made John shiver.
"John..." murmured Mr. Egbert, before rearranging himself behind his son, positioning his cock between his son's thighs, the head bumping up against John's balls. His hands slid to the outside of John's thigh's as he pushed them closer together, pressing them tight around his length, then moved back to his son's waist to balance them both.
The first time he pulled back, John whimpered. When he thrust forward, he moaned. It was so deep, so hot, John's head fell back onto his father's shoulders, reveling in the feeling of having his body used for his father's pleasure like this. He loved it when they thigh-fucked, the slide of his father's cock between his thighs, the way it was large enough to bump back against his own balls over and over again, with each thrust. He gasped, his father groaned, they picked up the pace.
With the build-up from dinner, neither of them felt like they could last long. One of Mr. Egbert's hands moved from John's waist to his crotch, ghosting up the length of his son's arousal before firmly grasping it. He tugged with each of his thrusts, twisting his grip around the head at the high end of the stroke. John was so aroused, so wet, dripping, and it made that last twist unbelievably good. Within a few stroke's John was was twitching in orgasm, stomach clenching as his body tried to bend forward.
He gasped and moaned, over and over again, cries for his father passing his lips as he jerked into his father's perfect grip. His cum dribbled between his father's fingers, the heaviest spurts trapped and made to make the tug and pull on his cock that much slicker, hotter, fuuck, it was already too much. John twitched backwards, trying to move away from the wet grip that was already too much.
Mr. Ebgert groaned, guttural, so aroused, and moved his hand back to his son's waist, smearing semen across John's body as he did so. He thrust harder, the slap of his hips and balls against John's ass and thigh's loud in the room. John whimpered and whined and moved back against him, desperate to feel his father's orgasm dripping between his thighs. When his father came, he thrust himself as far forward as he could and his orgasm wracked his body, released in thick spurts that hit against John's soft cock and balls and dripped down to the bed. As he came down from it, his hips gave a few small thrusts, reveling in the incredibly slick tightness of his son's thighs before pulling out completely.
The two of them nearly collapsed to the side, away from the mess they'd made and John shuddered in exhaustion and pleasure as he felt his father's still-hard cock slip against his thigh as Mr. Egbert untied his hands. He loved the way his father's body always took longer to go soft than his, leaving him with an erection even after he'd been satisfied. Soft, loving kisses tenderly grazed his shoulder and when his hands were free, his father pulled him tight to his body, spooning his son against him comfortingly and lovingly.
"You've done so well, son, I'm so proud of you," he murmured again, but John was already drifting off to sleep.