Tom and Zachary actually had a rather solid relationship. They weren't that far apart in age. Thomas was only sixteen years old when his son was born, and now that son had just turned eighteen the week before. He figured that this might have had something to do with it. A lot of people had assumed that they were brothers, and at times, it had certainly seemed that way.

For several years now since splitting up with Zachary's mother, Tom had been living with his older brother. Tom's brother was single and didn't have any kids, so he didn't mind the company.

Tom was a tall guy standing at six feet with light brown hair, blue eyes and fair skin. He was quite slender, but at the same time he had a nice build having worked out daily. (I was thinking of actor, Patrick J. Watson, when writing this character.)

The moment he was sure that the two boys were asleep, he crept out into the living room to watch tv.

As he had sprawled out upon one of the sofas, he pulled his flannell shirt and set it aside before taking the remote control. He then flipped on the television, making sure to keep the audio at a reasonable volume to prevent waking up either of the two teenagers sleeping across the hall.

It had looked to be the beginning of a long, tedious night for Thomas Watson, for he did not have anyone to talk to. Any other time, he'd have either his brother or his son there, but Zachary had gone to bed earlier than usual, and his brother was working late that night.

After what had felt like an hour of flipping through the channels, he had finally stopped on one that had been playing George A. Romero's Night of the Living Dead, a true horror classic. Laying back, he gazed solemnly at the large, widescreen tv hoping that this would make the time go by a bit more quickly. It did help somewhat. It had definitely taken his mind off of the fact that he had to spend the night alone- possibly even the next depending on how long his son's friend was staying over.

By the time that the first ghoul had made its appearance, the bored man had heard what had sounded like footsteps padding down the hallway and toward the living room. They had stopped just at the entrance.

He glanced up, finding himself staring into the brown eyes of his son's best friend, Rodney Parker. Like Zachary, Rodney was eighteen years old. He was very thin and had long, wavy black hair that had fell just past his shoulders. He had been wearing nothing but blue boxer shorts and a pair of black and green striped socks. (Ezra Miller was who I was thinking of when writing this character.)

"Oh, I'm sorry," Tom said as he sat up, "Did I wake you?"

The teenager shook his head.  "Nah, I couldn't sleep," he replied.

Rodney turned his attention over toward the movie and then back over to Tom.

"What are you watching?" He asked.

"It's an old zombie flick," Tom said. "Just trying to kill some time before my brother gets home."

"Well, then would you like for me to join you while you wait?" Rodney asked, flashing his friend's father a friendly smile. Tom returned the smile as he nodded his head. "Sure, if you want."

Rodney stepped further into the living room, taking a seat at the far end of the sofa. Tom pulled his feet back to make room for Rodney, but the teenager had stopped him, grabbing him by the toe of his boots. 

"Don't," Rodney spoke, tugging Tom's feet back out and resting them across his lap. "You looked comfortable."

Tom stared at the young man man from across the couch, furrowing his brows. It was an odd gesture, but he chose not to argue. He looked away from the strange boy, going back to watching the movie.

"Was Zachary awake?" He asked curiously, his attention fixed on the television screen.

"Nah, he's out like a rock."

For the next two minutes, neither one of them had said a word before Rodney had decided to speak up.

"When will your brother be home?"

"He's still got a couple of hours."

"Oh. So how old are you, Mr. Watson? You look pretty young to be the father of a seven teen year old."

Tom chuckled softly. "I'm thirty-four."

"So, that would mean that you were younger than us when Zachary was born?"

"Yeah, but only by a couple of years."

Another ten minutes go by, and the two say nothing. By this point, Tom had already gotten over the uneasiness of having his feet resting upon the pantless teenager's lap- that was, however, up until Rodney had suddenly pulled off his boots.

Tom turned his head, gawking down at his son's friend as he began to rub his socked feet.

"Um, excuse me," Tom said, "What are you doing?"

"Just a massage."

As if things weren't awkward enough. Tom wanted so desperately to yank his feet away, but he did not want to appear rude in front of his son's best friend. Despite his obvious discomfort, he had allowed Rodney to continue.

He started with the bottom of Tom's right foot, kneading his heel before gradually making his way up toward the top. His socks were warm and dampened with sweat, for he had been wearing boots all day, and the musky scent of his feet had been hitting the young boy right in the face. Strangely enough, he didn't appear to be bothered by it. As a matter of fact, he was enjoying it.

Tom had gone back to watching the old, black and white film once more, trying his best to ignore what was going on, but it was difficult for him. It certainly did not help one bit when Rodney had carelessly removed Tom's socks just moments later.

The touch of Rodney Parker's ice-cold hands gripping onto his warm bare feet had sent shivers of his spine, but he was actually beginning to like it.

"You know- you have some really nice feet, Mr. Watson," Rodney said suddenly as he began to pinch each one of his toes.

Tom didn't know how to even respond to such a strange compliment. He was beginning to think that the kid had just been screwing with him- kids these days seem to have an odd sense of humor. But then he had felt something warm, something smooth brushing up against the sole of his right foot. It didn't feel like any of the boy's fingers, and it had started growing firmer.

Tom's eyes shot open, and he had immediately pushed himself up to find himself staring at Rodney's now-erect cock poking out through the slit of his boxer shorts.

"What- I..." Tom had suddenly found himself at a loss for words, nervously trying to pull his feet away from the teenager, but he wouldn't let go of them.

"I want to lick them," Rodney said, looking him in the eye. It was clear now that this kid was not fucking around.

Tom's heart had began to pound heavily beneath his chest; he was almost certain that Rodney could hear it from where he was sitting.

It was wrong- so wrong, but Tom was actually more concerned about his son, Zachary, entering the room and finding them like this.

"Don't worry about your son," Rodney said, "He's not going to be waking up any time soon, and your brother's still got a couple of hours. Nobody will know."

Rodney could tell how nervous Tom was just by the look on his face, but he continued to smile at him hoping that it would make things seem less awkward.

Tom was quiet for a moment, thinking about what he just said. He was right. His brother wasn't going to be home for a while, and his son was a heavy sleeper. He knew that he should've just pulled his feet away from the perverted teenager right then and there, but to his surprise, he had found himself raising his foot up to Rodney's face.

Rodney stuck his tongue out, moving in slowly to give Tom the chance to change his mind before it was too late, but surprisingly he did not.

Taking this as a sign to proceed, he moved in further, pressing his warm, slimy tongue up against the heel of Tom's right foot and slowly sliding it upward. Rodney had kept Tom's left foot in his lap, his large, erect penis resting up against it. 

Tom knew it was wrong, but for some reason he was beginning to enjoy it just as much as Rodney was. He was still very paranoid about Zachary walking in on them.

There was just something strangely hot to Tom about the strings of saliva connecting from his toes to Rodney's lips everytime he had pulled away to take another long, hard lick up his foot.

Rodney had then lifted the older man's right foot up to his face before immediately wrapping his lips around the big toe. It was around this point that even Tom had started putting an effort into it by pushing his toes into the Rodney's mouth and pulling them out followed by loud sucking noises. He had even raised his left foot up, using his toes to caress Rodney's cheek while Rodney continued to enjoy his right foot.

Tom suddenly loud out a soft giggle when he had felt Rodney's teeth graze the the sole of his foot. Rodney looked up at the man raising an eye brow. "Ticklish much?" He said. "A little bit, yeah," Tom replied shyly. The moment that those words had left his mouth, he had a feeling that he was going to regret saying that judging by the shit-eating grin that had suddenly spread across the teenager's tanned face- and he was right.

Rodney wrapped his arm tightly around both of Tom's feet before attacking them with his teeth and fingernails. Tom rolled over onto his side, kicking his feet. His face had turned red as he bit into his flannel.

Finally, Rodney stopped, going back to worship the feet of his best friend's dad.

Rodney's cock was a solid as a rock now and pointing straight up toward the ceiling. Tom was becoming hard himself; he started to massage the growing bulge over his black jeans.

Rodney had then let go of the man's feet, pushing them aside for a moment as he had began to pull off his boxers. Tom sat back, staring intently at the boy's large, throbbing cock as it waggled back and forth. Rodney then carelessly tossed the boxers aside before pushing himself up onto his knees. 

He turned, steadily positioning himself at Tom's bare feet. Tom was pretty sure that he knew what was coming next, and he was ready for it. He scooted further back against the arm rest, giving Rodney more room at the other end of the couch. Rodney then reached down, holding both feet together. Licking his lips, he glanced up at his friend's father as if giving him yet another chance to pull away. 

"Go for it," Tom quipped.

And so Rodney had proceeded to push his hard cock through the encasement of Tom's bare feet.

Rodney thrust repeatedly into Tom's soles, his balls smacking against his heels. After a few minutes, the teenager had began to increase his speed little by little, his shaft turning a bright red from the friction. It was coming. He pulled back, stroking his dick before the older man's feet. His breathing had intensified, and his stomach had tightened. 

"I'm- I'm gonna c..."

Before he even had the chance to finish that setence, the thick, white fluids had began to erupt from Rodney's cock, splashing against Tom's soles. He crawled forward, continuing to stroke his cock above the Tom's bare feet until he had completely emptied out onto them. Neither one of them had seemed to think about the mess that had been dripping off onto the cushions.

Rodney rubbed the tip of his cock against Tom's soft feet, wiping it off against any dry spot that happened to be left.

The thought of licking Tom's feet clean had definitely come to mind, but he had noticed Tom pulling his own cock out. It was Tom's turn to get off now.

He figured that Tom did not have a foot fetish like he did, but he was completely fine with the other options.

The teenager crawled forward past the man's spunk-covered feet and wrapped his lips around his pulsating tool. Tom moved his fingers through Rodney's long, luscious locks before pressing downward, forcing him to go deeper. Rodney started gagging on the man's cock, but this had went on until he had finally told the boy where the lube was. Rodney smiled, very pleased to see where this was clearly going, before popping off to fetch it.

He returned shortly, climbing back up onto Tom's lap. He squeezed some out onto two of his fingers before handing the bottle over to Zachary's father. While Tom had began to apply the lubricant to his own cock, Rodney reached down beneath himself, getting his ass ready.

Rodney crawled forward, positioning himself above Tom's cock. He then lowered his bottom, gently easing Tom's cock into his tight, virginal hole. He gritted his teeth, digging his nails into Tom's sides as his cock tore into him.

He returned shortly, climbing back up onto Tom's lap. He squeezed some out onto two of his fingers before handing the bottle over to Zachary's father. While Tom had began to apply the lubricant to his own cock, Rodney reached down beneath himself, getting his ass ready.

Rodney crawled forward, positioning himself above Tom's cock. He then lowered his bottom, gently easing Tom's cock into his tight, virginal hole. He gritted his teeth, digging his nails into Tom's sides as his cock tore into him. Once he was inside, Rodney took Tom's hands, intertwining his fingers with Tom's as he began to move up and down.

The teenager started off riding him slowly, gently but got gradually rougher. Rodney's cock had even gotten hard once again while Tom was fucking him. Tom pushed himself, so that his face was now pressed against the boy's chest and the boy's cock was pressing up against his stomach, making a mess of Tom's white t-shirt. He wrapped his arms around the boy as he had continued to ride him hard, bouncing up and down in his lap. Rodney leaned down, kissing Tom on his ear before trailing down to his neck, sucking on it and leaving a mark. Have fun explaining that, Tom.

After a couple of more minutes of this, Tom finally came within Rodney, finishing it off with a kiss.

"That was great," Rodney said softly, smiling as he kissed Tom once more. "Would you like it if I lick up the mess I made on your feet now?"

Tom chuckled softly, nodding his head. "That would be nice."

Rodney looked up, and his eyes suddenly widened. His mouth dropped. Tom had immediately taken notice of this and wondered what was going on.

"Dad..!?"