Reader alert... the story contains elements of voyeurism and incest.
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The sound of the zipper of the tent opening didn't wake Eric Strong, because he was already awake, having been startled by the sounds outside of the tent he was sharing with his best friend Bobby.
At first Eric thought it might be a bear, but when he heard the muffled clearing of a throat he knew it was a person. Since the only people at the campsite were Eric's mother and father, and since Eric's Mom was scared of the dark, it had to be his old man.
The tent had been opened by Bobby, and after Bobby exited the tent and re-zipped the door flap, Eric sat upright, looking at the now-empty sleeping bag where his friend and secret lover had been.
Something was going on. Eric had felt the change in his best friend's behavior all that day, and now Booby sneaking out of the tent like this was not like him.
My old man probably suspects us, Eric thought. While they did their best to keep their relationship secret, it was probably inevitable that the cat would be out of the bag at some point, and Eric imagined his old man interrogating Bobby about it, maybe warning him to knock it off.
Eric didn't want his friend to have to go through that, so he climbed out of the tent and tiptoed down the trail towards the lake, where the footsteps seemed to have been headed.
And there they were, standing down by the picnic table near the shore, silhouetted by the moonlit surface of the lake. Eric's father, a good head taller and probably 100 pounds heavier than Bobby, who was about 5'5" and 130 pounds, was talking down to Eric's lover.
He was poking his finger in Bobby's chest, Eric saw. Probably chewing him out.
No. Wait a minute, Eric said to himself. Dad wasn't poking Bobby. He was touching his chest. Rubbing Bobby's chest, and now Dad was kneeling down in the sand in front of Bobby, pulling his briefs down.
"No," Eric whispered to himself, the shiver running down his back not a product of the cool night hair.
This couldn't be happening. Dad. Macho Dad, homophobe extraordinaire, was sucking Bobby Freeman's dick. My Bobby Freeman's dick, and Bobby was leaning back against the picnic table and letting him do it.
The shadowy figure than was Eric's father was moving back and forth, seeming to be inhaling all 7" of Bobby's long, skinny cock, and even though Eric was at least ten feet away he could hear the sucking sounds Dad was making while squeezing Bobby's ass.
A couple of minutes later, and it was over. Eric watched his father getting up off of the sand and brushing his knees off, ending the most painful five minutes of Eric Strong's life.
"No," Eric whimpered when he saw his father with his hands on his friend and lover's shoulders, bringing him down to his knees.
His Dad was wearing swim trunks, and now Bobby was pulling them down, exposing a cock that Eric had seen a few times, but never erect. Even in the dim light Eric could clearly see his father's cock sway up after being released, and his friend and lover taking the huge organ into his hands, and then his mouth.
Eric couldn't watch. He cried all the way back to the tent, and sobbed in his sleeping bag for a long time, waiting for Bobby to return. In about another twenty minutes he heard footsteps, and as one set of feet continued back to the pop-up trailer that Eric's folks slept in, the other set stopped.
The tent flap opened, and Booby came into the tent. Eric turned on the little lantern, startling his friend, whose face was just as tear-stained as his own.
"How could you?" Eric said, but when he saw his friend was crying he paused.
"I didn't want to," Bobby sobbed, grimacing as he sank down to the sleeping bag.
"It sure as hell didn't look like you put up much of a fight," Eric said.
"He hurt me, Eric," Bobby cried as he fell into his friend arms. "He hurt me bad."
***
"Your Dad walked with me when I went down to the beach this afternoon to meet you," Bobby explained after he had regained his composure somewhat, and as Eric held him close he listened to what Bobby told him. "Said that he knew all about us."
"I suspected as much."
"He tells me that he's cool with it though, and suddenly he's herding me into the woods. He's telling me all sorts of things about how he isn't the kind of guy people think he is."
"I'll say," Eric agreed.
"He tells me that - are you sure you want to hear this?" Bobby whined.
"Yes," Eric replied. "Don't want to hear it but I have to hear it."
"He tells me that's he's always like me and - he says that he couldn't help notice that I really fill up a bathing suit these days, and then he reaches into my trunks and grabs my dick."