Chapter 2: A Father's Lessons
“Good man,” Robert said, the gravel in his voice softening just a fraction. He hadn’t moved from his chair, but his presence seemed to expand, filling the space between them. “No need to be embarrassed. Men have been doing these sort of things since time immemorial. Sharing knowledge. Easing the strain for each other. It’s a proud thing.”
Eddie managed a nod, his throat tight. The whisky warmth was gone, replaced by a sharper, more anxious heat.
Robert set his glass aside and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his gaze pedagogical. “Now, the anatomy of a good kiss. It’s about control. Teasing and gentle to start. You let the anticipation build. The lips are firm but soft, communicative. It’s a conversation, not a demand.” He gestured for Eddie to stand. “Come on. Up. Let’s see what you’re working with.”
Eddie got to his feet, feeling unsteady. The room’s shadows seemed to lean in closer.
“Alright,” Robert said, standing as well. He loomed, a good few inches taller and far broader, blocking the firelight. “Now, for this exercise, you pretend I’m Mary-Jane. You’re you. Show me how you’d initiate. How you’d approach.”
A disbelieving laugh huffed out of Eddie. He looked Robert up and down—the solid wall of chest, the thick neck, the powerful shoulders. “Dude, you’re at least two Mary-Janes.”
Robert chuckled, a low, genuine sound that seemed to vibrate in the floorboards. “Fair enough. The principle stands. Just imagine that you really, really want to kiss me. But you also want to make me wait for it. Draw it out. Make me need it.”
Eddie swallowed. He tried to shift his mindset, but all he could see was Robert, all he could smell was that clean, musky scent mixed with leather. He took a hesitant step forward. He lifted a hand, aiming for Robert’s jaw, but aborted the movement halfway. He tried again, his fingers finally making contact with the rough prickle of Robert’s beard. His heart was a frantic drum against his ribs.
He leaned in, but it was too sudden, too direct. He pressed his lips to Robert’s in a firm, closed-mouth mash, holding it for a second before pulling back sharply, like he’d touched a stove.
“Again,” Robert said, his expression unreadable.
Eddie tried once more. This time he managed a slight tilt of the head, but again, the kiss itself was a stiff, pressured thing. His instincts, honed by a lifetime of racing towards his own finish line, were screaming at him to push harder, to take. He was so fucking horny all the time, the urge was just to get to the good stuff, to the wet friction and the release. Finesse felt like a lie.
He broke away, breathing harder than the effort warranted. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” Robert said, and his voice was calm, accepting. “I appreciate you showing me. And I see now.” He reached out and gave Eddie’s shoulder a solid, reassuring squeeze. It wasn’t a come-on; it was coaching. “You’re a thoroughbred, son. All power, no patience. It’s not a flaw. It just needs direction.”
The simplicity of it, the lack of judgment, made Eddie’s shoulders drop an inch. Robert made it feel easy. He wasn’t being weird about it. This was just… instruction. Eddie started to relax, the tight coil in his gut unwinding into something warmer, more curious.
“Maybe it’s easier if I show you what I mean,” Robert suggested, his hand sliding from Eddie’s shoulder to rest lightly on the side of his neck. “Just follow my lead. Don’t think.”
Eddie gave a stiff nod.
Robert’s other hand came up, his palm rough and warm as it cupped the line of Eddie’s jaw, his thumb stroking just below his cheekbone. His touch was impossibly sure. He applied the gentlest pressure, pulling Eddie in, while his other hand settled on Eddie’s hip, a heavy, grounding weight.
He leaned in slowly. So slowly. Eddie could see every crease around his eyes, every fleck of grey in his stubble. Robert’s breath, warm and smelling faintly of whisky, washed over Eddie’s mouth. His lips hovered, a millimeter away, the anticipation becoming a physical ache. He pulled back slightly, just breaking the almost-contact.
He did it again. And then a third time. Each ghost of a kiss was more maddening than the last. Eddie’s head was swimming, the blood roaring in his ears. His cock, which had softened slightly in his frustration, was now rigid and trapped painfully in his jeans, a thick, insistent presence.
Then Robert leaned in again. This time, his lips connected.
They were soft, yet with a firmness underneath that felt deliberate, unyielding. They moved against Eddie’s with a subtle, searching pressure that made Eddie feel… claimed. Owned. A shiver raced down his spine. His own lips, after a frozen second, began to move in response, tentatively mirroring Robert’s rhythm.
A small, helpless moan escaped Eddie’s throat before he could clamp it down. It was a raw, surprised sound of pure pleasure.
Robert pulled back, just enough to break the kiss. His hand remained on Eddie’s jaw, his eyes searching Eddie’s face.
Eddie laughed, a quick, nervous burst of air. He looked away, then back, his face flushed. “Shit. I’m… I’ve never done this with a dude before. Sorry.”
Robert’s eyebrow arched. A slow, sardonic smile touched his lips. “What, am I that bad?”
“No,” Eddie breathed, the word almost a confession. He met Robert’s gaze, his own eyes wide with stunned honesty. “That’s… that’s the best kiss I’ve ever had.”
Robert’s smile deepened, turning possessive. “And I’ve only just gotten started.”
He pulled Eddie back in. This time, there was no teasing preamble. His lips parted, and the wet heat of his tongue whispered a slick line over the seam of Eddie’s mouth. Eddie gasped, his lips falling open in automatic invitation.
Robert’s tongue pushed forward, just past the threshold. It was an exploration, not an invasion. Eddie’s own tongue rose to meet it, tentatively at first, then with more confidence as they slid together. The taste was complex—whisky, male, a dark richness that was uniquely Robert. The hand on Eddie’s hip tightened, pulling their bodies closer until Eddie could feel the formidable heat of him, the hard plane of his abdomen, the unmistakable, thick ridge of his erection pressing against Eddie’s own through their jeans.
Robert pulled back again, leaving Eddie’s mouth feeling cold and empty. His hand still cradled Eddie’s jaw. Their eyes locked. Eddie was panting softly, his cock so hard it throbbed with each heartbeat.
“How was that?” Robert asked, his voice a low whisper that vibrated through Eddie’s skin.
“I think… I’m learning a lot,” Eddie whispered back, surprised at the husky depth of desire in his own voice.
“Good lad,” Robert murmured, his thumb stroking Eddie’s cheek. “Do you want me to show you again?”
The question hung in the smoky air. This was the threshold. Eddie knew it. To say yes was to admit this would no longer be just about Mary-Jane. This was about the lesson itself. About the shocking, profound thrill of being handled by someone who knew exactly what they were doing.
“Maybe,” Eddie said, the word trembling. “Just once more.”
Robert needed no further invitation. He closed the distance, and this kiss was wetter, deeper. There was more tongue, a lush, languid sliding that Eddie fell into completely. He let Robert lead, let him set the pace—a slow, sensual dance that was both giving and taking. One of Eddie’s hands came up, almost of its own volition, and fisted in the fabric of Robert’s henley at his side, holding on as the world narrowed to the slick heat of their mouths, the scratch of beard, the dominant pressure of Robert’s grip.
When they finally parted, a thin strand of saliva connected their lips for a second before breaking. Eddie was dizzy, his entire body humming.
"Now, it's your turn once more, before you leave. I want to see if you've absorbed anything. Don't try too hard, just see what comes naturally, okay?"
Eddie nodded, eager to continue. Both men take a moment to gather themselves, to reset. Then Eddie’s hand came up, his palm feeling the rough warmth of the hair peeking out through the open neckline of Robert's Henley. Eddie focussed his attention as it brushed up and around Robert's neck, gently moving his head, showing his control of the situation, his thumb stroking just below Robert's jawbone. His touch was suddenly, surprisingly sure. He applied the gentlest pressure, letting his hand snake around the back of Robert's neck, pulling him in, while his other hand settled on Robert’s hip, echoing the weighty, rooted sensation Robert had given him.
He pulled Robert to him slowly. Eddie's eyes locked onto Robert's, noticing the flecks of green in his blue eyes. Eddie’s breath, moist and smelling like sex, fluttered over Robert’s mouth. His lips paused, a moment from touching, Eddie allowing anticipation to become a tangible thing. He pulled back slightly, denying Robert's need, feeling Robert drawn to him.
Three times, each pass a suggestion of contact, building towards the inevitable. Eddie’s head was swimming again, the blood returning to roar in his ears. But this time, he was in control. Then Eddie leaned in one last time and their lips connected.
He echoed the soft but firm pressure Robert had used, but his lips wanted something else. Light, subtle kisses, never resting. He pressed against Robert’s lips with a gentle, fluttering pressure that made Robert whine. A quiet, keening sound that made Eddie's cock pulse. A shiver seemed to travel between them. Then contact, his tongue licking and lightly pushing, seeking admission. Robert's lips, responding to Eddie's sensual insistence, began to move in response, opening to Eddie's request, his arms snaking around Eddie's waist, coming to rest on his lower back.
The two men slowly began to intertwine again, their tongues slowly coiling around the other's, their saliva mixing, their lips crushing. As soon as Eddie felt himself wanting to push further, to cross a line, he pulled back, just enough to make eye contact with Robert, his hand resting on Robert's collar bone.
Robert didn’t step back. He kept Eddie in the circle of his arms, his gaze steady. “When is your next date?”
“Saturday,” Eddie managed to confirm, his voice rough.
“Well,” Robert said, his tone shifting back to that of a practical instructor, though his eyes still burned. “Now you know the deal. Come see me beforehand if you want the chance to take things further with her. And come see me after, if you want… more guidance.”
Eddie nodded, flustered by the storm of his own excitement. He was unsure how to feel about the fierce want churning in his gut, but he couldn’t deny the pure, animal pleasure of the attention, of the sexual experience itself. It was better than anything he’d done with a girl. Having someone else take complete charge, someone who knew their own power so utterly, was fucking hot.
“Thanks, Mr. Henderson. Really,” Eddie said, the formality feeling absurd but necessary. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
“How much earlier do you want me to be here?” Eddie asked, the question laden with a meaning that stretched far beyond punctuality.
Robert’s hand finally dropped from Eddie’s face, giving his hip one last, solid squeeze before releasing him entirely. He took a small step back, granting Eddie space that suddenly felt cold.
A slow, knowing smile spread across Robert’s face. It was a smile of absolute certainty.
“As early as you like, son,” he said, his voice a deep promise in the shadowed room. “I’ll be ready for you.”
The silence after Robert’s promise had stretched for days, thickening in Eddie’s mind until it became a palpable thing he carried in his chest.
Now, at 5:55 PM on Saturday, he sat in his car just down from the house, his fingers tight on the steering wheel. He’d texted Mary-Jane five minutes ago. He’s ready for you, smiley face, was her only reply, the words doing strange, electric things to his gut. His mind had been a riot of conflicting images since he’d left that study: the ghost of Robert’s lips, the heavy breathing of both of them with their cock in their hands, the sensual thrill of his kiss. Even Mary-Jane’s texts had become a refrain. Dad says hi. Dad says he’s looking forward to your next meeting. Dad says he has some more guidance for you? Isn’t Dad great?
Yes, he was great. And, for some reason Eddie could no longer deny, unbearably hot.
Eddie had never really fantasized about a guy before. He regularly enjoyed porn with two guys railin’ a woman, sure, and once he’d even gotten off to a video of a man being fucked while he’d fucked a girl. That was just heat, just anonymous bodies. This was different. This was the specific scratch of Robert’s beard, the exact rumble of his voice saying good lad. Every time Eddie jerked off now, his initial thoughts of Mary-Jane’s imagined tits or her hypothetical wetness would dissolve, and Robert would creep in. His lips. His cock. The way his hand had felt on Eddie's hip.
Eddie took a steadying breath that did nothing to calm him. He couldn’t sit here obsessing. He started the car, pulled up to the house, and killed the engine.
The walk to the door felt like crossing a border. It swung open before he could knock. Mary-Jane stood there, beaming, but something was off. She was in a dressing gown. A thin, silky thing with a deep, plunging opening in front. He had never seen so much of her breasts before, the pale swell of them, the shadowed cleft. The robe was also short, showing her long, milky legs, smooth and supple.
He was instantly, painfully hard.
She pulled him into a hug. He kept it chaste, his hands hovering near her back, knowing the rules. But as she pulled back, his eyes automatically dropped and he saw the delicate edge of her areola, a perfect pale pink curve. A jolt of lust, sharp and almost painful, shot through him. He almost came in his boxers right there.
Mary-Jane giggled, a light, airy sound. “Dad’s waiting for you in the study. I’m gonna go finish getting ready.” She gave him a little wave and turned, the robe swirling around her thighs as she skipped up the stairs, almost flashing the curve of her ass.
Eddie stood frozen in the hallway for a moment, composing himself. He adjusted his jeans, took another breath, and headed for the study.
He heard the grunts first—low, concentrated exhalations of effort. Pushing the door open, he found Robert on a yoga mat in the center of the room, executing slow, controlled push-ups. He was dressed in tight grey jersey shorts and a loose vest, his body sheened with a fine layer of sweat that caught the firelight. Eddie watched, transfixed, as the powerful muscles in his back and shoulders bunched and released with each deliberate movement. He saw the clenched, formidable spheres of his ass, the thick, corded strength of his legs.
Robert completed the final few reps with a low growl and pushed himself up to his knees. He was breathing deeply, his chest expanding. “Gotta work hard at my age,” he said, noticing Eddie, a smile touching his lips, “to keep things from looking completely terrible.”
“You look fantastic,” Eddie said, the words out before he could think, his eyes roving helplessly over the man’s physique.
Robert stood, a tower of solid muscle. “You should see the rest,” he said with a wink, grabbing a small towel to wipe his neck.
“I’ve seen a fair bit already,” Eddie replied, forcing a smirk, trying to match Robert’s casual tone.
“Yes, you have,” Robert agreed, his grin widening. He walked forward, his presence filling the space between them. Eddie, operating on some ingrained, formal instinct, held out his hand to shake.
Robert ignored it. He grabbed Eddie’s hand and pulled him firmly into a hug. Eddie’s face was pressed against the damp vest, his nose filled with the scent of clean sweat and warm skin. “You don’t mind a bit of man sweat, do you, son?” Robert growled into his ear.
Eddie was enveloped. It was a cocoon of deep, earthy male odor. Not nasty, not stale, but a bodily smell, an intimate smell of exertion and heat and life. It was overwhelming. It was incredible. His own arms came up, almost on their own accord, to wrap around Robert’s solid back. He felt the hard muscles shift under his hands.
“No,” Eddie managed to whisper, his voice muffled against Robert’s chest. “I don’t mind.”
Robert held him there for a long moment, then pulled back, his hands sliding down to grip Eddie’s biceps. His blue eyes were clear and focused, all playfulness gone. “You came early.”
“You said I could.”
“I did.” Robert’s gaze travelled over Eddie’s face, down his neck, across the visible tension in his shoulders. “You’re wound tighter than a spring. All that energy with nowhere to go. It’s a terrible weight to carry, isn’t it?”
Eddie just nodded, unable to form a sentence. The truth of it was a physical ache.
Robert held them there for a few moments, his thumb tracing the line of Eddie's jaw. Their groins pressed together. Eddie’s mind was static, a blank white noise punctuated by frantic, screaming questions. Can Robert feel my erection? Does he know his cock is pressing right into my balls? Can he tell how much I want him to kiss me again? Should I move away?
Before Eddie could resolve any of those thoughts, Robert stepped back. The sudden absence of contact felt like a vacuum.
“Standing there coiled up like that,” Robert said, his voice easy now. He moved back towards his yoga mat, picking up his towel. “It’s counterproductive. And it shows on your face. Mary-Jane will sense that tension. She’ll call it ‘awkward’ or ‘pushy’, but what she’s really feeling is your unmet need. It leaks out of you.” He tossed the towel onto the armchair and turned, fully facing Eddie. “I was impressed, you know. Last time. With your ability to learn and adapt.”
Eddie blinked, the sudden shift from physical intensity to clinical assessment leaving him dizzy. “The… kissing lesson?” he managed, the words feeling illicit.
“Discreetly, yes,” Robert said, a ghost of that earlier smile returning. “Have you thought any more about it?” He folded his arms, his biceps swelling. “Have you practised?”
“Practised?” Eddie’s brow furrowed. “I’m not seeing anyone else.”
Robert gave a soft, rumbling laugh. He reached down and grabbed the hem of his damp vest, peeling it up and over his head in one smooth motion. His chest was a landscape of dense, grey-flecked hair over slabs of muscle, his nipples dark and pebbled. “On your hand, or on something silicone, is what I meant.”
“Oh.” Eddie’s cheeks burned. He watched the play of firelight over Robert’s torso. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Robert was just about to peel off his shorts, his thumbs hooked in the waistband, when he looked directly at Eddie. “You don’t mind, do you? I’m all sweaty. Since you’ve seen what’s inside?”
“No,” Eddie said too quickly, the word rushing out. He felt he should look away, avert his eyes like a gentleman, but he was utterly unable to break his gaze from the man’s hands, from the shadowed bulge in the grey fabric.
“Think of it as a locker room,” Robert said with a shrug. He shucked off the shorts, leaving him in just a black thong that cut high on his hips and gave Eddie a good look at the formidable swell of his ass. He stood and stretched his arms overhead, a full-bodied extension that pulled every muscle into sharp, corded relief. Seeing Eddie’s gaze, he turned the stretch into a slow flex, his latissimus muscles flaring like wings, his chest expanding.
“I used to compete, back in the day,” Robert said, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone as he struck a few more poses—a double biceps, a most muscular. The thong left nothing to the imagination, the dark fabric a tight cup for his heavy cock and balls. “Bodybuilding. Before life got… complicated.”
“It’s still very impressive,” Eddie breathed, the admission quiet but sincere. He felt Robert had given him explicit permission to look, to appreciate this form as one craftsman might appraise another’s work. It felt clean, this admiration.
Robert relaxed his pose, his body returning to its resting state of intimidating solidity. He hooked his thumbs in the sides of the thong. “What’s your workout schedule like?” he asked casually, as he slowly pushed the scrap of fabric down his thighs. It snagged on his thickening cock for a second before falling away. He stood there completely naked, his cock now half-hard, a thick, veined curve arching away from his body, the head already glistening.
Eddie’s mouth went dry. His brain stuttered. “I, uh… I lift some weights in my room sometimes,” he stumbled, forcing his eyes up to Robert’s face, which only made it worse because Robert was watching him with such calm amusement. “But my job keeps me fit. And I run. When I can.”
Robert nodded thoughtfully, as if Eddie had just delivered a detailed portfolio. He stepped out of the thong and walked, completely at ease, to a dresser near the fireplace. He opened a drawer. “That’s a foundation. But it’s reactive. You’re just maintaining what life demands.” He pulled out a pair of clean, dark briefs. “You need a proactive routine.A plan. Build the physique you want for the long haul.” He stepped into the briefs, the soft cotton stretching to contain him. “Future-proof your body. Don’t wait until you’re injured or your muscles have wasted away. I can offer you some support there.Advice. A proper program.”
The offer was practical, generous. It was also an extension of the same guiding principle—Robert knew better, and he was willing to share that knowledge. The dynamic was settling into Eddie’s bones, comfortable and alluring.
“Yes, sir,” Eddie said, his voice firmer now. “I’d like that, sir.”
Robert gave a pleased nod. He pulled on a fresh, soft-looking Henley, then stepped into a pair of jeans, buttoning them with practiced ease. The transformation back to the clothed, paternal figure was complete, yet the memory of what was underneath was seared into Eddie’s vision.
Robert settled himself on the edge of his heavy desk, one leg braced on the floor. The fire crackled.
“So,” he began, his tone shifting into something more deliberate. “Before we go any further, I think it would be a good idea to review what you learned when you were last here. A practical assessment, given the… stakes of your evening.”
Eddie’s face flushed in anticipation. He licked his lips without thinking, his mouth suddenly parched.Robert noticed. A slow, private smile touched his lips. “And then we can talk about your date. About what you hope for tonight.” He paused, letting the implication hang. “And if I think you’re ready to enjoy Mary-Jane a little more. A real taste of her.”
Eddie’s cock twitched violently in his jeans, a fresh, hot pearl of pre-cum leaking into his boxers. The dual promises—the immediate, physical lesson and the tantalizing reward dangled for later—short-circuited any last resistance.
Now dressed, Robert moved to stand directly in front of Eddie. The space between them hummed. “Show me,” he said, his voice low and uncompromising. He waited, his eyes locked on Eddie’s.
Eddie took a shaky breath and swallowed, hoping with everything in him that he didn’t mess this up. His palms were damp.
“Just remember,” Robert whispered, leaning in close enough that Eddie could feel the warmth of his breath. “To imagine that I am someone you really want to kiss.”
No imagining required, Eddie thought, the clarity of it a calm shock in his storm of nerves.
His hand came up, not hesitantly this time, to cup the strong line of Robert’s jaw. His thumb automatically began stroking the coarse stubble there, mimicking the very touch Robert had used on him. The gesture felt confident, possessive. It felt right.
He leaned in. He didn’t crash forward. He ghosted his lips over Robert’s, letting his own breath, warm and quick, be the first point of contact. The sensation was electric, a teasing promise.
Without thinking, following an instinct that felt both new and deeply natural, he started to brush small, gentle butterfly kisses over Robert’s lower lip. It was a frantic, fluttering touch, like moth wings against a candle. He did it again, and again, each fleeting contact landing slightly differently.
Robert groaned quietly. The sound was low, approving, a vibration Eddie felt in his own chest.
Encouraged, Eddie deepened the kiss. He parted his own lips, just slightly, and let his tongue trace the full, soft curve of Robert’s mouth. He tasted the faint, clean remnant of toothpaste, the underlying richness that was just man. He suckled gently on Robert’s lower lip, pulling it into his mouth before releasing it with a soft, wet sound.
Robert’s hands came up, not to guide, but to cradle Eddie’s face. He was letting Eddie lead, letting him explore. His own lips began to move in response, opening, inviting Eddie deeper.
Eddie’s tongue slipped inside.
The heat was overwhelming. Robert’s mouth was a lush, wet cavern. Eddie’s tongue slid against his, a slow, sensual exploration that quickly turned hungry. He forgot about technique, about lessons. He was just kissing, pouring all the frustration and want and wild curiosity of the last few days into this one act. He mapped the ridges of Robert’s palate, the smooth surface of his teeth, the incredible softness inside his cheeks.
Robert’s groan deepened into a continuous, hungry rumble. His hands slid back, fingers tangling in Eddie’s dark curls, holding him firmly in place. He began to kiss back with equal fervor, his own tongue spearing into Eddie’s mouth, dominating the rhythm once more. It was a duel of wet heat and shared breath, a messy, glorious communion that had Eddie’s knees threatening to buckle.
They broke apart, gasping for air. A string of saliva connected their lips, gleaming in the firelight before it snapped.
Eddie was panting, his heart hammering against his ribs. His cock was a steel rod of pure, aching need, soaked at the tip. The taste of Robert was on his tongue, in his throat.
Robert’s eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide. He kept his hands in Eddie’s hair. “Jesus,” he breathed, a note of genuine surprise in his voice. “You may not have been practising, but your mind has been working on that. Hard.”
Eddie couldn’t speak. He just stared, dazed, at Robert’s swollen, wet mouth.