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Here is a new story from a friend featuring one of my favorite subjects. Big muscle daddies . I'd been talking about a story like this with my friend and they decided to write a story on it. Just to be clear, this is not an incest story. And it follows in a similar genre as my Elongro and Performance Incentive stories. So there may be elements of domination, humiliation, cucking, etc. Again, just to be clear, I did not write this, but was given permission by the author to share it here. Enjoy! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Chapter 1 - Dr. Tait Holden, MD, Ph.D. sat in his office at 345 Park Avenue Manhattan dictating another report. It had been an exhausting few months. Since he attended the college football championship game in January there had only been a few days that he had been home. Travel all over the nation, living in hotel after hotel after hotel. Dozens upon dozens of days long interviews with clients. Just as many or more consultant meetings and video conferences each week. Having to attend gladhand receptions and dinners with the more hands-on owners when he would much rather have been home. But the end of the yearly ritual was within sight. It was now early May. He was back in his Manhattan loft full time, and, at last, the busiest part of his work year was almost over. That was not to say Tait actually liked New York City. It was just a necessary evil. At least the Spring weather was nice here. He just had too much Nebraska in him to ever feel comfortable in a two bedroom - two bath top floor loft in Chelsea that he bought strictly for its vaulted ceilings or in a suit in the corporate offices. In fact, he often mused about the size of the mansion he could have bought back in Omaha for what he spent on 1200 square feet here. But, as much as he did not like Manhattan, at least he wasn’t always on an airplane living out of a suitcase. He could get some fresh air on the roof of his building after his morning run with a cup of coffee and a quick hot tub boil to relax his quads and calves before work. Cramped, crowded subway commutes were never fun for him, but having his own kitchen each night made sticking to his new workout and gym goals much easier. Those had been KILLER to maintain on the road to be sure. But, he never turned down a challenge. Besides, he thought he had progressed quite nicely on those goals over travel season, all things considered. Just a few more weeks. A few more weeks of reports and these meetings and he would finally be able to close the Chelsea loft for the summer and take some vacation time at his Montana cabin. In the remote wilderness with just himself, the animals, and his private gym, he could really focus on his training undisturbed until fall. Sure there would be some work between the first day of training camp and week one, but that would be the exception, not the rule. Tait was reciting long lines of dry medical jargon into his headset, when an unexpected buzz brought him out of his notes. He pressed pause on the mic control, and the main switchboard operator’s voice sounded. “Doctor Holden. Sean Foley from the PGA is on 7-2788 for you.” Tait smiled to himself as he told the operator to transfer the call to him. Sean was one of the best professional golf coaches on the planet, counting players the likes of Tiger Woods and Justin Rose among his clients. Getting this type of call would be unheard of for most doctors, but for Tait, it was run of the mill. He was, after all, one of the preeminent sports psychiatrists/psychologists in the United States. Tait flipped another switch on his mic to change from the computer dictation program to the phone lines, and a button on his desk phone connected the call. “Sean. It’s been quite a while. How are you man?” “I’m good, Tait. Covid took a toll on business, but what didn’t it take a toll on. How are you?” the man replied. “Trust me, I understand that. As for me - rough part of my season winding down and craving a vacation,” Tait said. “So, what can I do for you? You finally want to cash in that favor I owe you? If so, I know this perfect spot just off the coast of Miami. Private island, warm–” The voice on the phone quipped. “No way. Having you on the hook for a favor is too valuable to give up on just anything.” Then the voice became earnest. “Listen, Tait, this is - rather personal. Well, more personal for you I dare say. I don’t know if it is my business to tell you or if you already know. But you're a friend, and I have to say something. “Something is very wrong, Tait. Have you talked to Kane lately?” Tait’s jovial mood changed instantly. “Not for months, Sean. Between the rush for the draft and - well - you know - Kane being Kane. Thought it best to give him some space and let him call me. What's –” The voice interrupted. “That fits, Tait. But this is different. Fuck, Tait. I'm worried. Let me explain.” *** In Mountain View, California, a twenty-five year old man sat watching the sun rise in a quiet upper middle class neighborhood in which anyone could be happy. Except that the young man wasn’t happy. He hadn’t been happy for months. Not since that day at the gym. Since then, even his fiancé, who at one time made him unconsciously smile just being in her presence, couldn't rouse him from his preoccupied doldrums. It all started after that guy – no, he couldn't face it. It was too – Suddenly, his cellphone rang. The iPhone played a ringtone he had not heard in ages - Ozzy Osborne's “Patient Number 9.” The young man literally groaned as he picked up the phone to see *RESTRICTED NUMBER* as the caller. That ringtone was no accident then… Why now? He thought. Why now? Of all people on earth. With what happened, why him? The universe must hate me…. But the young man knew there was no way to ignore the call or the caller. No way to resist the inevitable. No one ever resisted this caller. Not in all the years he had known him. It was like trying to resist the gravity of a black hole. The only way to avoid it was to go around it and never interact with it. But now, he had to. The young man took a long breath and blew it out. Time to face reality. He clicked on the answer icon. “Hi Dad.” “Hi, Son. How are you?” a deep voice replied from the box. “OK. Just the usual,” the young man lied. “What’s up?” “I'm going to be flying into San Francisco tomorrow night and staying all next week. I would like to speak with you and meet Lacey while I am there. I know it is kind of hard for you to bring the girl home to “meet the parents” so to speak. But while I’m there, I thought it might be a good time. It is way past time I met my future daughter-in-law. “Are you both available for lunch Thursday? Say Hog Island Oyster Company at 12:30? It's a bit of overkill I know, but I want to make a good first impression on my new family. And I really want to see how you are. My treat, of course.” Oh fuck, the young man thought. Not just interacting but flying straight into orbit of the black hole. Then, he calmed a bit. Dad has to meet Lacey sometime though. Maybe it can just be lunch if he is working. I hope so. I can't be exposed to hi- The young man banished the thought he was about to have before he fully had it. It was too creepy to ever contemplate. It was wrong too. But it came again. And again. And again… The young man tried to clear his head. He yelled out so that it could be heard by the deep voiced man. “Lacey, do you have time Thursday afternoon for lunch? Dad is on the phone.” In response, a beautiful young woman came around the hallway from the bedroom into the living room. Her face was beaming at the prospect. Their marriage will become much more real after finally meeting her future father-in-law in person. She immediately agreed. “Lacey said it’s fine Dad, so I guess so.” “Great. I am staying at the Four Seasons for work. So, I will meet you both at the restaurant. Just ask for my reservation. I am really looking forward to it, Son. It has been far too long.” As the phone disconnected, the two men on opposite ends of the country - and from the same but opposite worlds - each breathed a sigh. In New York, Tait hated lying to his son. He could count on one hand how many times he had, and some of those had been misdirections about Christmas presents. He had finished in California weeks ago. But something was wrong, and his son needed him. In California, Kane Holden's stomach tied into a knot. He loved his dad, but his father was more of a force of nature than a man. Tait Holden was… His god of a father was coming. And after the dude at the gym, the universe really did hate him. *** When Kyle and Barbara Holden welcomed their fifth child and last child - their first son after four daughters - into the world in 1978 it was a dream come true. Every man dreams of having a son, and that was especially true of the Nebraska cattle rancher. He was not only from a long line of cattlemen, but also a long line of athletes. He himself had been a full scholarship O-line player at the University of Nebraska. His brother had been on the 1968 Olympic wrestling team. And before he settled onto his own ranch, his father had played for twelve seasons with the Phillies and the Dodgers through the 1950’s. His father’s two World Series rings sat proudly in the office at his ranch to that very day. But, at that moment in Creighton Memorial St. Joseph’s Hospital, no one grasped that the infant they named after his two grandpa’s, Tait Michael Holden, would tower over every accomplishment anyone in their families ever had. From the start, it was obvious that Tait was a special baby. First sign was that he was big for a newborn, being 8 pounds 12 ounces. But that big baby would only become BIGGER. Beyond that, Tait was speaking basic sentences at a year old. Reading basic stories at 3. When most little guys were only interested in Sesame Street or GI Joe cartoons, Tait was voraciously learning anything, showing a curiosity in everything from the classroom to snakes and prairie dogs on the ranch to how the cattle were managed for market. By the age of 12, Tait had raised and sold his first steer after winning first place with him at the State Fair. And then another, and then two, and then four. By the time he had graduated high school, Tait had well over eighty thousand dollars in savings from selling his Fair animals and prize money. Tait would have been an incredible rancher if that had been his destiny - but his academic and farm accomplishments were mirrored by his physicality and sports performance. Like all the Holden men, Tait inherited tremendous physical and athletic potential, and in Nebraska countryside tradition, Kyle started his son playing flag football as soon as he was of age. Tait took to the sport like a duck to water. By the time he was a high school freshman, Tait was already playing varsity as a hulking 6’4” terror of a tight end. At high school graduation, he had won every football award possible for high schoolers in the state of Nebraska and more individual player awards than any athlete in Nebraska state history to that point. Of course, Tait was recruited by practically every single division one athletic program that had even the smallest hope of landing him. The only thing that disappointed Kyle at the end was his son’s final decision of where to commit. Instead of one of the highly visible national programs, Tait chose Stanford. He explained that he wanted to develop his mind as well as his football skills, just in case he were injured and couldn’t play and Stanford could certainly do that. Besides, he reasoned, no matter the team’s record, as long as he played his very best game and learned under legendary Stanford head coach Bill Walsh - the NFL scouts would come to him. And come they did as Tait became a once in a generation position player. When Tait’s body finally stopped growing, he was just a fraction under 6’9” tall, and the strength coaching and nutrition staff transformed him into a 315 pound gridiron titan. And it was by no means a flabby 300 pounds. Tait was obsessive in the gym and with diet, so much so that the layer of fat so many tall footballers had simply wasn't there. Tait’s genetics would have allowed him to become a pro bodybuilder if he was not a football player. His body and strikingly good looks made him into what would one day be called the poster child of “aesthetics.” Tait had a 61 inch chest, 22 inch biceps, with a wasp waist of 32 inches that was the same size as each quad. He looked to literally be carved from rock, more like a giant Frank Zane on the field than a Junior Seau. Of course, any college footballer who was 6’9” and more than 300 pounds was tried out on the line and Tait played magnificently there. But, his true skills were at tight end. His gigantic hands made it next to impossible for a quarterback to miss him when called upon to make a catch. And Tait was extremely good at making up for bad throws so that they still wound up in his mitts. His massive legs could push that body at incredible speed for his size, and compared to defensive secondary players who were 100 pounds lighter than him - trying to tackle him was like trying to stop a freight train. And when Tait was called on to make a block for a running back, those who were unfortunate enough to be targeted felt like they had been plowed over by a Union Pacific locomotive. The nickname stuck - so that when the “Freight Train” made a play, the Stanford student section would start chanting lyrics, singing along to a new song by Metallica that was first sung just a few miles away in San Francisco playing over the stadium speakers - No Leaf Clover - “Then it comes to be that the soothing light / At the end of your tunnel / Is just a freight train coming your way / Here it comes.” Tait’s physical gifts were built right along with his mental skill on the field. Under Walsh and his position coaches, Tait had also become an incredible football mind. He absorbed every lesson Walsh and the coaches taught - from how plays unfold across the whole field, to how his own position operated in various schemes to how plays themselves were drawn, even how the players' workouts augmented play making. Tait employed these skills relentlessly. He might have been a freight train in one play but in the next he could work with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel. That versatility made him almost impossible for opposing teams to defend against, Tait was one of the few players on the college level Walsh ever trusted to have the quarterback or center make audibles in an instant based on the defense. What generational greats like Peyton Manning was to Tennessee or Charles Woodson was to Michigan, Tait Holden was at Stanford. After four seasons, when Tait finally declared for the NFL draft, he was a Stanford team captain, a 4-time First Team Academic and on the field All-American. It was rumored that Tait was the inspiration for the creation of the Mackey Trophy to recognize the best tight end in college football since he never won a Heisman. Nevertheless, he was an easy top ten first round pick. Tait spent 8 years in the NFL during the 2000s, amassing 2 Superbowl rings, 7 consecutive selections for the pro bowl, and 4 first team all pro rankings. It was argued in NFL circles that if he had continued playing, he would have been tied with Jason Witten and Tony Gonzalez as the greatest tight ends of the modern NFL. He was definitely heading for the Hall of Fame. But, unexpectedly, at the age of 30, Tait retired from professional sports. The official reason Tait gave was that he wanted to make sure he maintained his health from possible injury or concussion disorder. CTE was becoming more and more popular in the discussion of player health and Tait was a massively hard tackler. But the real reason was very different. Social media barely existed at the end of Tait’s career, and at that time the press barely covered player families unless they were famous beforehand. No one ever spoke of the players' children. So, few outside his team and fewer true friend’s knew about Tait’s wife. Her name was Jess Walker. Tait met her at a party when he was a Stanford freshman. Next to Tait, she was tiny at 5’1” and 105 pounds. But she was perfect for her spot on the gymnastics team. And she had gotten involved in a new sport from a gymnastics coach in Santa Cruz that he called “Crossfit.” For the first time in his life, Tait was thunderstruck by a girl. He was awestruck that such a petite girl could be so fit and strong and do the things she could do. But it was every single conversation with Jess that pulled Tait in. He could just lie on a couch and hold her and talk with her for days on end it seemed. They soon began exclusive dating and became quite the item on campus. But, as sometimes happens, in their junior year, Jess retired from team sports as she was pregnant and soon gave birth to a baby boy - Matthew Kane Holden. Although Tait wasn't religious, he had been raised with salt of the earth, mid-western values. So his first inclination was to marry Jess, stop football, and go to work. But, both Jess and her parents would not hear of it. They refused to allow Tait to give up his career and his future, even with a child on the way. Eventually, Tait agreed, but he and his family would provide everything Jess and Kane needed while waiting for him to go to the NFL. The Holden's lived up to every word - with Jess completing an MBA while waiting. Finally, in Tait's second year in the League, he and Jess married in a tiny ceremony in the prairie church in Nebraska where his family had married for generations. Tait deeply loved Jess and his boy. Though his looks and body made him a virtual pin up model with the expected continual offers of sex when he was on the road with the team - and sometimes right in front of Jess - he was absolutely faithful to them. They seemed to be on the road to long term happiness. But then the phone call came - There had been an accident on the freeway. Jess’s petite body stood no chance in the force of the impact, and she had passed from her injuries. Luckily Kane had been with his grandparents so he was unharmed. But Jess was gone. He was widowed at 30 years old. Tait was devastated. He decided at that moment to do everything he could to provide family and stability for his son, and to not risk his body again. Tait retired from football less than a month later. And rather than live on his well-invested football money - he had been paid over 38 million dollars in his career which had already almost doubled through wise investment - or become a coach, Tait decided to use some of his money to go back to his alma mater - Stanford. Tait was easily accepted into Stanford Medical School, graduating as a single dad with an MD and a PhD in what was then a new and upcoming field called Sports Psychology. After four years of residency at The University of Pennsylvania, Tait became a licensed sports psychiatrist. He was specifically approached and accepted a job offer from the NFL corporate offices in New York. He was commissioned to begin a new mental health services division under the contract that had just been negotiated between the Player’s Union and the League. Tait provided psychological services to any team organization, from mental health seminars and how to develop mind-body connection to interviewing potential draft prospects for teams from a psychological perspective. When Tait made that call to Kane, he was 44 years old. He had gone on to become the manager of behavioral health practitioners for the League and an incredibly respected NFL representative. He showed favoritism to no one, not even his old coaches and teams and teammates. And, as a former player, he was in particularly high demand to supplement mental health services and team doctors. Through it all, Tait saw to any need his parents, sisters, and son had that they could not meet for themselves. Tait was the man his father and grandfather taught him to be - a man who takes care of his own, protects his own, and provides for his own. Physical Giant, Retired NFL All-Pro, MD from Stanford – Tait really was an Alpha male force of nature. Given the man he was, as soon as he got a hint that his son may be in trouble, Tait dropped everything and flew to San Francisco. *** Kane and Lacey walked into Hog Island Oyster Company about ten minutes before the reservation time. When they approached the maitre’d desk and asked for the Holden reservation, he looked at them rather judgmentally, said they did not take reservations, and then asked them for identification. Once the asswipe was satisfied, he gave them one last sneer and invited them to follow. They were not prepared for where they were going. Apparently the restaurant did take reservations - for Tait Holden. They were escorted to an entire section of reserved outdoor patio seating. In front of them stretched one of the most panoramic views of the San Francisco bay and the bay bridge that anyone could take in. Before they took their seats, they went to the edge of the pier to take in the sight. Of course, for all except the maitre’d, there was another view most of the males had taken in as much as they could. Kane didn’t have to look around to sense the eyes locked onto them - well her. Lacey. Kane was accustomed to it by now. It was something similar to the reaction his father received from women, a reaction he knew he would see and hear again soon enough. Part of him rather enjoyed the looks of envy directed at him. And part of him felt insanely self-conscious and inadequate, as those same looks that were awed by Lacey judged him to be totally lacking compared to the woman on his arm. Lacey Masters had it all. She was a 27 year old drop-dead beauty. Daughter of a Bank of America executive. She had competed twice for Ms. California, and the only thing that truly held her back from winning the title was her 5’6” stature. Like his parents, Kane met Lacey at Stanford, where she had been a cheerleader. Of course, she was just as stunning back in college as now, which cowed Kane. But, he also felt more than a little intimidated by her intellect. She was no stereotypical empty airhead. Lacey was a brilliant financial mind. Even if she had not been a banker's daughter and born to the work, her skills at winning in the markets singled her out as being an up and comer in the corporate world. She worked for the investment firm Dodge and Cox as an analyst and personal portfolio manager, already bringing in a very solid quarter million dollar salary before bonuses each year. She also had a fantastic personal portfolio that seemed to grow whenever the stock market bell rang. In every way, she was the proverbial catch. Then, there was the man beside her. In a way that no one could actually put a finger on, Kane Holden just didn't seem to match up. It wasn’t that Kane was bad looking, True, Lacey was dressed in a fantastic dress and heels that made her stand a couple inches taller than Kane, who in bare feet stood exactly the same height as Lacey. True, his father had the chiseled, rugged good looks of romance and cowboy western novel cover models. But, Kane was not bad looking at all. His features were softer. Kinder. He was what most girls in high school and college described over and over as “cute” - at those moments when those same girls were alone comparing the guys around them. While Lacey was closer to a 10, Kane was more of a 7 or 8. But he was not ugly by any stretch. It wasn't that Kane was lacking in any sort of lack of physical fitness. Sure, Kane had gained about ten pounds since college, but that didn’t mean that he had a full out dad bod or anything. Sure, while Lacey had her beauty queen looks and religiously worked out with weights and yoga, Kane was not exactly a slouch. He had inherited the Holden family athletic gene and had been a 5 year wrestler at Stanford. And now, he was pursuing his other sporting gift - golf. Kane had taken up golf in high school after wrestling season and discovered he had quite a knack for it. With great coaching, Kane had capitalized on that talent, having managed to secure a spot on the PGA tour two years prior. No one in their right mind would claim that a Stanford wrestler and a professional golfer was not successful. It was just that Kane had inherited his mother’s height and weight rather than his father’s - as Kane wrestled at the 141 pound weight class. And unlike his father’s gargantuan, ripped muscles when he was in college sports, Kane was again softer - even when he was in wrestling shape. Kane had lithe muscles and a hint of abs under his shirt rather than the etched, deep 8-pack of his father. Kane had succeeded in wrestling and golf as a good tactician, with flexibility, speed, and technique as allies - the skills of a gymnast that he had inherited from his mother. He just didn’t have the overwhelming physical power combined with tactics that his father had - or that Lacey had in her own more feminine way. And while just becoming a Stanford wrestler and pro golfer was successful, he was middle of the road in both. He was good… good enough. But, he was never going to win the way his Dad and wife did. Kane’s personality didn’t quite match Lacey, that was true. They seemed to be from the “opposites that attract” spectrum rather than being “birds of a feather.” Kane was reserved and somewhat introverted compared to Lacey’s extroverted nature. With his father being away so much as a pro footballer and later medical school and residency, child Kane became a pure “mama’s boy.” Thus, he was crushed when his mother passed. Tait had been as well, but he had an adult perspective that the ten year old Kane did not. Tait had engaged the best therapy possible for his son, of course. And the giant man had been nothing but loving and gentle with his son, sensing his quiet, reserved nature. As Kane was treated by many others in his life. To a fair share of women, that vulnerable side was seen as an endearing quality, again something they called “cute.” But, to others, especially certain males in the elite circles of academics and athletics and later business, Kane was a tempting target to use and step on. Except none ever wanted to face the wrath of Tait Holden or later the corporate power of the Masters. So they left Kane alone - most of them. Looks, physique, mind, attitude, personality. It wasn’t any of these single characteristics that made Kane not match. It was all of these things taken together. Kane was the embodiment of “one of these things is not like the others.” He shouldn’t have been. But, he was. And something deep inside him knew it. It was a feeling people could sense radiating from him. Preoccupation. Tentativeness. Withdrawal. Inadequacy. Good enough. That was Kane in a nutshell - good enough. Good enough - but not great. In any other life Kane has success people only dreamed of. But compared to the others he loved, he was totally outshined; but, he was good enough. As he and Lacey waited for water to be brought to their table, Kane was being swallowed by “good enough.” Kane was cute, vulnerable, had a scrappy puppy quality, and Lacey had come to love him for that and more. But – Tait Holden. He knew Tait Holden was quantum leaps beyond any man Lacey had ever met. Though Lacey was certainly accustomed to getting attention and getting hit upon and being a very strong, dominant woman - she had never been exposed to the quality and quantity of Alpha male Tait Holden in person brought to the table. Kane had no idea how she would react. He knew Lacey loved him. Or it certainly felt like it. But, he knew how his Dad affected women. He had seen it all his life. He knew Tait was no predator. He was no so called “Chad.” He never set out to seduce women. In fact, Tait had always been loyal and honorable toward his mother and any other woman as far as he knew. Stealing a woman away from another was just anathema to him. Before or after Jess death, he had never been part of the underground or above ground athlete culture for women and parties and sex. Tait considered that to be beneath him or any proper man. He had taught Kane that. And - Kane knew he carried the pain every widowed person did. He had seen it when his father had visited his mother’s grave. He still loved HER, even now. Kane thought maybe that was why he was still single. And yet… Kane knew what was coming, and it always inspired a feeling - dread. Kane felt awful about that. He felt so conflicted that he both loved and dreaded his father. His father was just… his father. No bravado, no pretend machismo, nothing at all unnatural for him. Tait was nothing but the archetypal Real Man, in every positive way. Tait had done nothing on purpose to inspire such dread in Kane. Yet, it was there, rolling in him - the feeling of being good enough under the glare of greatness. Then, there was another feeling the son had about his father - a wrong feeling Kane thought. The feeling had no name that Kane could attach to it. He buried it as much as he could as he was afraid of it. He avoided his father because of it. But that day at the gym a few months ago - that other man made him truly feel it for the first time. Kane didn’t want to relive those moments, but he did in a flash. And the feelings that burst out hit him, making his thoughts spin - worse than they already were. How would Lacey react? What would she do? What would he do? Why did he feel this way? He didn’t know if these feelings around - well THEM who Tait may as well have been the leader of - was a part of him that was alpha like his father that he was uncomfortable expressing for where it could lead. He didn’t know if it was admiration or desire or hero worship or… A longing to be like his father or not like his father. It just had no name. It was like – Kane was brought back to the real world and away from the whirlwind of his thoughts by an audible gasp and rustle that went through the entire restaurant. Again, Kane instinctively knew what it was. Who it was. Again, he didn't have to look up to know what had happened to generate that response. But, just like gravity around a black hole, Kane was drawn in and turned to see. Kane’s first thought was that his father looked bigger than he remembered, if such a thing were possible. Tait towered at least a full head over… Well, everyone there. That was normal for a man who was 6’9” outside of a basketball team locker room, but it wasn't just his height. Kane could have sworn that his father was physically wider and more thickly muscled than even during his playing days. Maybe it was just his clothes, Kane reasoned. Tait was dressed in all black - black polo shirt, black slacks and leather belt, black leather dress boots. The height of simplicity. Thing was the way these clothes looked. Every stitch Tait wore was custom tailored. His clothes fit so precisely as to highlight every muscle to the hilt. His massive pecs were totally outlined, his quad development shown through his trousers, an impossibly deep v-taper from shoulders down to his waist, even some of the thicker veins were visible through the cloth. Yet, none of the clothing was so tight as to look like Tait had deliberately done it. They simultaneously looked painted on but loose and comfortable in the way only superbly custom-made clothing can. It wasn’t a matter of Tait showing his wealth or station in life or even simply vanity however. Fact was - no one made off-the-shelf clothing for someone like Tait. Simply finding pants long enough was often difficult, much less pants that could house his monstrous quads and calves. Finding size 18 shoes anywhere in any style at all was nearly impossible. Tait had needed custom clothes as long as Kane could remember. Kane heard another sharp intake of breath - this time from directly behind him. He turned to see Lacey with her mouth agape in shock. “Kane,” she barely whispered, “is… is that-” “Ya, that's Dad.” Kane replied. “Told you. Dad is a bit… different.” Lacey had seen plenty of well built, muscular, handsome men in her years. Plenty of very tall men when she cheered for Stanford basketball. Plenty of so-called Alpha males on the field and at parties and in the halls of power. But Tait - she was just floored, stunned, speechless. He was the biggest man she had ever seen. The sheer size of him. He looked like he could make up three ordinary sized men. And, if she were honest - his sheer sexiness was astonishing. His height, his classic chiseled looks, his commanding vibe. All those things she knew in scattered pieces in other men - but in Tait all combined and magnified in one. She had not even spoken to him yet, but everything about him screamed that this was a man among men. Lacey felt her crotch tingle involuntarily. An animal desire from within her. She couldn’t help it. And she wasn't alone. Every woman in the restaurant was having the same reaction. They all felt the… whatever it is that women feel in the presence of a proverbial apex alpha male. And the men - they all felt what they had in their own package either flex with the same desire or shrivel as it was obvious they were totally outclassed. As the young couple watched, Tait looked down upon the maitre'd - who came no taller than his upper pecs - and spoke to him. They could not hear what was said, but they could see the person who had been more than a bit snobbish and prickish to them physically wilt. Kane noted that the same man who asked them for their identification didn’t ask Tait for the same as he fumbled over himself. At that moment, Tait saw Kane and Lacey in the distance. He said something to the maitre’d and then just walked past him as if he no longer existed. Tait walked through the lunch time crowd like Morpheus in The Matrix. Totally direct and purposeful, yet strolling through the sea of people as if they didn’t exist. All while the maitre’d looked as if he were physically drained - perhaps like Moses after seeing the Burning Bush. As soon as Tait came through the patio doors into the open air, he looked to Kane and said heartfully, “How are you, Son?” Father and son began to walk toward each other. Lacey stood, frozen, watching. Her shock and nervousness only grew as the great man approached. It did not escape her that Tait seemed to cover the same distance that took Kane ten steps in five. The giant reached out and took his flesh and blood by the hand in a massive enveloping handshake and then pulled him into a hug. Lacey thought she could hear Kane reply, but it was lost somewhere in Tait's lower chest muscles - where Kane's head landed upon the man who had 15 inches of height on him. But - that didn't matter to her… yet. That voice - Tait’s deep, smooth, confident voice. Tait sounded like a combination of the bass of Vin Diesel and the smoothness of Lawrence Fishburne. So strong and confident, yet so soothing. That voice could crush an ego or inspire armies or wrap you in curtains of safety and security, depending on how he used it. She understood in a moment why Tait was so effective as a psychiatrist or as a team leader before that. That voice attached to that man could make you want to tell every secret you had and love doing it. She felt herself become even more aroused hearing him. She started to understand what Kane had meant about gravity. She felt pulled toward him, like a moth to a flame. The perfect voice, the perfect height, the perfect muscle, the perfect attitude - she just couldn't help it. He was so much more than Kane’s description could ever hope to convey. She noticed something else in that moment of embrace. Kane. Though they seemed so different - and they were very different - she could see so much of the son in his father and so much of the father in the son. Kane’s voice was baritone rather than bass, not quite as silky smooth and confident. But she could hear so many similarities. Kane had a quiet strength about his voice, much as the magnified version in Tait. There had been more than a few nights when she had become lost in Kane’s voice. Kane’s face and physical features were so different from Tait's - yet there was no question they were father and son. Kane was what Tait would have been if he were more of the non-descript power behind the throne type. A very different type of masculine power; yet it was there. So different - yet so similar. That similarity to Tait made Lacey desire Kane more too. She watched as Tait released Kane and together they approached the table where she was. Kane - she felt ashamed for her reaction to Tait. She loved Kane. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Kane. Why was she so pulled into wanting Tait to f– She crushed that thought. “And you must be Lacey. It is cliche but Kane has told me so much about you,” she heard as her vision became blocked by a man mountain. Lacey looked up and UP. She felt like she was a little girl again standing in front of her father as Tait held out a wide hand. She extended her own hand and Tait took it. “Dad, this is my fiancé Lacey Masters. Lacey, please meet my Dad, Tait Holden.” Kane introduced. Tait’s voice seemed to wrap the young woman in velvet smoothness. “An absolute pleasure to finally meet the girl my son was lucky enough to catch… or was it entrap?” Tait cracked a mischievous smile with just the hint of a complement toward her and the good natured rib at his son. Kane's cheeks flashed an inordinate amount of red in embarrassment. Lacey giggled. Fuck that smile is like liquid sex. What is it like to kiss–, she thought. “He didn't trap me.” She replied then added almost as an afterthought. “Well… maybe he did, but it's a trap I enjoyed falling into. The pleasure is mine, Doctor Holden.” Tait turned to his son for a moment. “Kane, you didn’t tell me you had found such a keeper of a girl. Better hold tight.” He flashed a smile again before he turned again to Lacy. “Tait, please. You’re not a client in my office, and I still have enough of the ranch in me to hate formality from my family - or close enough to family. Of course, there is one exception I make to formal custom - one I always liked with a beautiful young woman.” Tait’s voice dropped slightly, becoming almost intimate. “‘Enchanté, Mademoiselle.’” In a practiced motion mastered through thousands of repetitions, Tait raised her arm while simultaneously bowing himself and kissed her hand. Lacey shivered. Her panties very nearly became wet in desire. Tait was so big he could totally close her from the outside world if he embraced her. She could tell from the thick, weight lifter built muscles of his hand that he was strong enough to lift her to the ceiling with one arm with no effort at all. She imagined Tait in the gym putting dumbbells more than her body weight easily over his head. Her eyes wandered up his thick corded forearms that radiating raw, crushing power, and, Jesus Christ, that bulging biceps even partly under the sleeve. What must that feel like to… “That’s my Dad, just a smooth-talking, muscle-bound Cassinova.” Kane quipped. Leave it to Kane to ruin the moment, Lacey thought. She almost snapped at him for his rudeness, but was stopped by a good natured chuckle from Tait. Lacey could not tell if the laugh was a “touché” recognition of his son’s verbal jab - or an Alpha male’s amusement at a lesser being trying to stand up to someone far beyond him. Maybe it was both she thought. “Maybe so, Son. I admit to being a softy sometimes under it all. I suppose Kane learned how to trap good women from me.” Tait pointed his free hand toward Lacey’s seat. “May I?” Lacey smiled even more as she gave her ascent. Tait lowered her hand and held it as he escorted her back to her seat. As he led her, she tried to hide the fact that she was shaking at his touch. She understood intellectually that Tait was just showing proper manners. But her body didn’t want to believe it. And… she failed. Tait felt her response and suppressed a knowing smile. As Lacey thought, he wasn’t purposefully trying to do anything. It was just that he had seen this so often that he couldn't help but feel a bit of amusement. Years ago, Jess’s mother told him that common courtesy from him could be misinterpreted by many women because of the masculinity and power he conveyed. So, Tait was very cognizant of where to draw lines with most women. She was family so he would allow more than with most women. But the lines were still there with a woman so much his junior - no matter how much closer to her age his looks made him. Still, very first impressions of Lacey Masters - he liked this girl. Kane - he noticed her response too. Like his father, he had seen this so many times over the years. It was what he knew would happen and was afraid would grow. He hoped this would end when Lacey became more familiar with his father’s presence. The way his mother or grandma or aunts were around his father. They would just laugh at it when they felt it and give their men a smooch. Still he felt a jab of familiar jealousy - no woman had ever responded to a simple display of manners from him like that, much less his own fiancé . Maybe she had never responded like that to anything he had ever done. No matter how intimate. Even in… Kane’s feelings of inadequacy grew even more. And with it his internal conflict expanded. After Lacey was seated, Tait moved to the side and took the only other available seat at the table… Next to the young woman. Kane mentally kicked himself. He had unconsciously upped the level of temptation. He had chosen to sit opposite of Lacey facing her across the table out of habit - the way they always sat when going out. Tait hadn't thought anything about it. He simply slid into where he thought he should sit - within inches of Lacey. It was innocent. Anyone would sit in the only available chair… but now Kane felt even more uncomfortable. Seeing them like this, side by side - it was oddly striking. They sort of matched, like his mother. They looked so–. Awkward silence again took over, but after a few moments, Tait broke the ice. Again, he directed to Lacey. “I suppose this is when we begin the awkward small talk you do when you're meeting the in-laws? I remember mine. Maybe I should just tell some embarrassing childhood stories on Kane like any parent does when meeting their kids’ sweetheart.” Tait flashed his million dollar smile signaling the humor, which made Kane blush again - hoping against hope his Dad wasn't going to actually do that. Tait and Lacey couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It was indeed the perfect thing to break the ice. But her laugh was almost like a schoolgirl enamored of the hot new guy. Of course, she was nervous meeting Tait but - that laugh. It was more than nerves. Without realizing - in a half flirtatious way, her hand moved to Tait's forearm…This time, she was definitely wet. Thank fuck what she was wearing would never let on to her condition. But she felt it. Her biology betrayed her - and what she felt. Crazy, hard muscle. Veins. What about other veins lower down. And his skin - it was an odd juxtaposition of thick and thin, hard and supple - like a weightlifter. Like a strong man. A bodybuilder. Her fingers lingered as she felt movement - the small and large ripples of individual cords of muscle, each of which had to be bigger than Kane's whole forearm. She kept feeling as she caught the scent of Tait's heady musk, a clean but utterly masculine scent - sandalwood and leather and cigar and pheromones and the primitive primate part of her brain responded. Involuntarily, she drew in a breath. That breath - damnit, had she been caught? Lacey’s cheeks flushed and she dropped her hand, though she didn't want to. She was feeling up to her beau’s father. That was awful, but… I have to be good, she thought. She truly believed she was being totally proper now not feeling Tait’s arm - it never reached her consciousness that her hand had just dropped only to come to rest on Tait’s massive quad. The entire previous exchange felt like minutes, but in reality it was just a second or two. Lacey continued, “I hope it's not too awkward.” Her answer was both a proper answer and a Freudian slip. “I make no promises that I won't mess up. But, I'll try my best,” Tait said to both of them, feigning innocence. Tait knew her hand was on his quad… but drew no attention to it. Kane jumped in. “Speaking of awkward - you're looking… BIG, Dad.” Now it was Tait's turn to flash the slightest of emotion - Pride. There was always something special when your kid noticed that you were reaching your goals. “I thought you'd quit working out as much with the Draft interview schedule keeping you so busy.” “I'm glad you noticed, Son. Been working hard the last while even with the schedule. Some OK results for not enough sleep and depending on the team catering crews to give me healthy food, if not exactly geared for me. But, I do want to get bigger.” “Bigger?!?” both twenty-somethings said incredulously in unison. Tait felt Lacey’s hand begin to squeeze his quad. Then move to squeeze another spot. It was a bit of a thrill to feel that a grown woman’s hand - petite though she was - could not even span the single femoral head of his right quad. Just one of the four main groups - wider than the length of her hand from her fingers to wrist. She was looking for weakness. She would not find it. Lacey - she was indeed feeling his leg, trying to figure out what bigger meant. She decided there was no way. How could there be - he was so big already. So totally hard. He had to be immensely strong. Everywhere she felt - nothing but rock hard muscle. It couldn’t get any bigger. Tait could not help but to feed on their stunned energy, particularly Lacey. He found a strange sort of enjoyment at the prospect of showing off for his family and pushing them into disbelief. He decided to go with the flow. He opened a light version of a jock smirk to their reaction. “ “But you're already so BIG?!?” Lacey finally said. Tait held out his right forearm and biceps and began to tense and relax them in view of the kids. It was not a full out flex at all - more of just moving his fingers and wrist making the muscles twist and dance. As he did so, the cords of thick muscle and veins exploded and the promise of a truly monumental biceps mountain hinted it was alive under the black polo sleeve. “I'm certainly trying. It was my New Year’s resolution, so to speak. Maybe it's just an old man's vanity trying to keep up with all these NFL prospects I work with who are even younger than you two. It’s fun to still be able to out work and out lift them, I have to admit. “I turn 45 in a few months, and it is more than fun to see them - please do not take offense Kane, Lacey - but it is more than fun to see them have the same reaction you two are having right now when I get a good pump. I am going for conditioning too, not just size. You know someone my size can put on a lot of muscle AND fat just by existing and eating enough. But I want to carve up the size I am putting on. Be lean and cut as well as bigger. Actually, I am aiming to be better than I ever was when I did the pin up calendars when I played in the league. One last time and hold onto it as long as time and age will let me.” Lacey’s hand groped even more at hearing that. If you looked closely, her eyes dilated. Her cheeks flushed. Her breathing had become a bit faster. More shallow. “Dr. Hold – Tait,” Lacey corrected. “Almost 45?!? You don't look a day over 30.” Kane groaned inwardly. His anger had been growing the entire exchange. He was going to let it all go as a natural reaction that Lacey couldn’t help. His father’s gravity. That it would go away. But that level of blatant hitting on another man right in front of him was uncalled for. It was as clumsy and in his face as if she were still a teenage girl getting attention from the hot jock. Right down to the giggles. He could see Lacey fucking groping his leg and just dying to touch even more – Kane almost said something when Tait stepped in. He deftly slid his own palm over top of Lacey’s hand and pressed down. He stopped her moving. Still feeling him of course, but she was no longer exploring. “Thanks for the flattery. You're too kind. But let's be honest. The gray hair is coming out a lot more than it used to be. I still recover from a workout very fast compared to someone else my age, but not like I did five years ago. We all lose our battle with time. So, you two should enjoy every moment. I have no regrets except…” Tait stopped for a moment. Kane could see a flash across his face of the love his father had for his mother. Tait would never allow himself to break down in public. But that reaction to a thought of his mother was enough to break Kane's anger. “Except for perhaps one. And, frankly, you remind me a bit of her, Lacey.” Tait took a breath to center himself and then he continued, “I've lived life the best I could. And still try. That's why I'm doing this. To live life the best I can before I can’t. I want the same for you two. No matter what that means and where it takes you both. Be who you are and live life to the fullest.” Lacey stopped her attempts at feeling, leaving her hand resting on his quad, but followed up, curiously. “Living our best lives is one thing, but… a pin up calendar?” Tait laughed deeply. “Ya. One of the bright ideas of the League.” Tait said sarcastically, clearly amused at the thought. “They were trying to get more female fans. So their solution was to have those of us who were particularly good looking or at least had good abs that they could airbrush pose for these pin up calendars. Guys of the Gridiron, or something just as cringeworthy, haha. “Never did a thing to get more women fans of the game as far as I know. We just became a little bit of - well - fantasy material for some women and a few guys I guess.” Tait chucked again. “But I did a few calendars to raise money for charity while I was playing. Like, the ones that raise money for animal shelters - what do they call them now “Bullies and Biceps” or “Hunks and Hounds–” Tait laughed again. “I was there with all these fitness models and bodybuilders. A fish out of water as a pro football player with these little pin up dudes. Anyway, they raised some money for good causes. That I am happy to have done. You might even be able to find some of me when I was Kane's age showing off my assets.” “But ya, I want to get truly massive if I can... in fact, I'm working out at the 49ers facility while I am here to stick to the goal. Do that at every team facility when I have to go to in-person interviews. You're both welcome to come if you like. I'm sure the team wouldn't mind.” Tait smiled. “Really,” Lacey said, clearly excited to see Tait in something a bit more revealing than proper clothing. Now it was Tait’s turn. He knew what she was thinking and slightly rubbed Lacey’s hand on his quad. It was imperceptible to anyone visually. But Lacey felt it. “Of course. As often as you like.” He looked at Kane. “Both of you. I’ve never done a workout with you, Son. That would be amazing if we could. I can even try and set up something permanent if you both want.” Feeling Tait’s touch, seeing what she saw, hearing Tait’s invitation to the gym. Lacey just couldn't resist anymore. It was so cliche - but cliche’s work because they are so often real. “Tait - would it be OK if I… if I… see your-” she stumbled over herself, a ball of hormones and nerves. Kane finally snapped. He had endured so much these last few minutes. And this was the last straw. “Lacey, get hold of yourself. This is embarrassing. You wanna date my Dad or something. You sure as hell are feeling him up. Maybe it is just better if I leave you two to it - fuck…” Kane stood to leave, when both Tait and Lacey said, “ Kane, WAIT–” Both immediately withdrew their hands from each other. And as they did Lacey realized just where her hands were. What she was doing… Fuck. Kane was right. She had been flirting with Tait this whole time. She'd been touching him since he had sat in his chair. She just… couldn't help it. Tait was so different and dominant compared to every man she had ever seen, she just felt compelled. Tait was just too powerful a presence for her instincts. She did it even though she intellectually didn't want to. And she had offended the man she loved. Lacey was about to say something when Tait again intervened, again saving the young people. “I'm sorry son. I shouldn't have allowed the conversation to go that way. And I should have stopped anything that crossed any boundaries that you both have. It is not Lacey’s fault. It is mine. You can remember how many people asked me to flex for them or take pics with them when you were a kid. It bothered your mother until she came to understand that it is nothing more than a compliment and I never would dishonor another person or myself by crossing a boundary. She even came to laugh at it. I'm sorry if I have violated any boundary between you two. Can you forgive me?” Tait’s statement about his mother brought back a flood of memories. Indeed he could remember so many times as a kid when people would ask his father to flex or ask for photos… And they'd try to feel his arm. Doing it for kids was one thing but he also remembered the women. So many women. He also remembered his parents laughing and joking after. He always thought it was his Dad being a player - and not the football kind. But now he remembered conversations. Laughing about some reaction. They never made sense to his child’s brain… Until now. “I… I guess so Dad. I didn't remember until now but she and grandma used to laugh about it. She thought you being a hunk was great fun. I… Just…” “No son. I understand. Your mother was one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. I was quite protective of her if you remember. Like I said, Lacey reminds me of her a bit. More than I think you can know. So maybe it is a bit of nostalgia too, no offense intended to Lacey. It is a GREAT compliment. But perhaps I became too familiar out of habit.” “I get it Dad. And I'm sorry. Both of you.” Tait then smiled. “OK, now if it is not violating any boundary and in the spirit we just talked about. If you're OK Kane and Lacey I'm happy to satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and flex for her. You haven't seen the truly bigger me either. And then we will laugh about it. I mean I'm not in the habit of flexing in a Michelin star restaurant. A different kind of beef than what is on the surf and turf? We can satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and I doubt she will ever ask anyone again as I doubt she will ever see any bigger…” Tait smiled broadly - a smile that could melt glaciers. Lacey said, “Kane, please. Really, I am just curious. That's all.” “Alright. Alright. Go ahead. I suppose you will always wonder until you see it. And I have to admit I am a little curious myself. You’re bigger than I ever remember you being, Dad.” Kane said in surrender - and it was true that he was curious. He didn't want to admit it and it was for a very different reason… but he wanted to see his dad flex too. “Well then kiddo, I'll give you a dose of the cannons to feel later.” Tait laughed deeply. “In the meantime, Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Tait bent down in his chair a bit to not draw quite as much attention as a full out flex would do. He held his arm down to be within easy reach and then curled his monster forearm and fist around and up. The muscles of the upper arm rose and Rose and ROSE. Tait smiled as the gigantic muscle took full form. Even Kane in disbelief said, “Christ, Dad.” Tait’s arm was the diameter of a volleyball. A tremendously shaped, peaked mountain exploded out, covered with several thick and thin veins across its surface. The thick/thin skin Lacey noted earlier traced out many striations and a well-developed cleft between the heads of the muscle. The well-made polo covering it made a creaking sound, as the stitching of the custom made shirt was stretched to the limit before Tait rolled the sleeve back to afford a full view of the monster ball and the massive hanging horseshoe beneath the dome. Tait pumped it out and in a couple times. “Thanks Son. It is better with a pump, being honest, but it’s still pretty good. Go ahead Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Lacey’s trembling hands - both of them - reached over and tried to wrap around Tait’s arm. She failed hardcore with many inches between the hand on the bottom and the hand on the top. In fact, her top hand could not even cover half of the biceps mountain. “Oh my GOD.” she said. She tried to squeeze it, but she had no ability to move it at all. It felt like a warm bronze statue in the summer. The flesh was unyielding to her at all. Yet - she felt it move, but only at Tait’s whim. Tait smiled more broadly as he saw her reaction. She moved her hands, trying to feel any soft spot, any weakness, any spot at all that felt like flesh and not rock. There was none. “Oh my God, Tait, Kane, it is SO BIG and HARD. I mean you had hard muscles when we were in school but nothing like this. Tait, you must be the strongest person ever in the gym. Jeez.” “Go ahead and hit it a bit if you want. It’s the same.” Lacey obeyed, fawning as her slight pops became harder and harder into slaps and then into punches. For a girl, Lacey was very strong and fit and knew how to throw a punch from her classes at the gym, Yet all she felt was a sting in her own hand as hit after hit did nothing but make Tait smile at her. “Fuck.” She said under her breath. “I don’t think I could make a dent in this with a baseball bat, Kane. It’s like all the muscle on your whole body is in this one arm. Your muscles have never felt like this. Your muscles are nothing like this. I bet if he squeezed you he could crush you. Wow.” She said under her breath. Tait laughed, “I take it you approve.” “It is the most manly muscle I have ever, ever felt. You’re right Tait. I never need to feel another muscle on a guy again. No one else will ever measure up. I can’t wait to see you put these football guys to shame in the 49ers gym. Can we go Kane, please. I really want to see Tait embarrass a few of those fucks I remember from school.” Tait was still flexing for Lacey, Lacey still feeling, and Kane … Kane still in utter awe. Kane would have felt offended that Lacey flatly said that she would never want to feel his body again after feeling his Dad’s but - he couldn’t. He had hugged his Dad earlier. He had felt his Dad’s body. And seeing this… he wondered if Lacey’s comment wasn’t true. He certainly could never build what his Dad had. He wished he could. He wished he could do ANYTHING to come even close to that. But he had no idea how. And Kane felt… something. Something like gravity. A pull toward SOMETHING... Kane never betrayed the gravity he felt toward his father’s muscle display. “I guess Lacey, if you want and if you are sure, Dad. I’ll go.” “Absolutely. I’ll call Roger Goodell and make it happen if I have to. He owes me a favor anyway. And… thanks for indulging and letting me show off just a bit Matty.” Kane groaned and Lacey looked up at Tait, even as he pumped his arm a few more times under her roaming hands. "Who is Matty?" Kane just looked down, his whole body seemingly turning red in embarrassment. Kane sighed. "Me. That’s what mom and dad called me as a kid. I went by Matt everywhere else except my family called me Matty - until I started using my middle name Kane in college. Guys back on the high school wrestling team heard Dad call me Matty, and the name stuck like glue." Tait looked a bit sheepish. "Damn, son. I’m sorry. There I go telling old men stories. It's just one of those old habits. I know how you feel about Matty." Lacey smiled and chuckled. “I, however, just got a little bit of leverage in the war between the sexes.” In a tremendously cheeky bold move, Lacey bent over and planted a small peck kiss on Tait’s still flexed biceps - the only part of him she could reach as big as he was. “Thank you, Tait. I may have to use it sometime… Matty.” Tait laughed hard and Kane turned redder still. It was really one of those classic parent stories they tell on their kids but… there was something in Lacey’s eyes, on her face. Something. And then it was gone. Tait spoke up. “At least if I do it now, Kane, I won’t get in as much trouble. But I will try to keep that as private as possible. Anyway, It will be a pleasure to show off for you both. It has been a while since someone appreciated what I do with the players – and to the players.” Tait laughed as he slowly lowered his arm. Lacey’s hands hung in mid air for a few moments before she lowered them. She loved Matty… rather Kane like her life depended on it, but… She just HAD to feel that arm again - HAD TO - when she could tell Tait what she really thought - alone when Kane would not hear. HAD TO before Tait left again for New York. “What do you mean Tait,” Lacey said shakily. “What do you do to players?” Tait smiled. "You both were athletes at Stanford. Imagine someone like Christian McCaffrey being told he has to be interviewed by an NFL staff psychiatrist for potential draft teams. He is expecting some short fat dork who has never even taken an elementary school flag football snap to walk in. How do those athletes react when they see me come in and the first thing I do is ask them to do is to take me through their daily workout... and the dork doc beats their ass in every lift." Kane said in a not exactly joking manner after the name “Matty” came out, "Dad has always liked to lord his abilities over other players." Tait looked at them both. "No, it's not that at all. Yes, keeping up with them or beating them in the gym is an ego boost to me, and it hits their ego. But it also serves a purpose in my psychological evaluation of them. “As a rookie in the League, no matter who you are or how good a college player you are, being new in the League, in practice and games and the locker room, you face being physically out-performed and bullied a bit by teammates and rival players. We are all paid professionals, but it is testosterone-fueled men and there is a pecking order and can be pissing wars and dick length contests, at least metaphorically. It is part of tradition, and playing with the best players in the world. Some say I am in the running for the greatest tight end of all time, and it happened to me. I remember getting my bell rung once like I was Big Ben in my first game with Charles Woodsen. Once I got accustomed to the League, half the time some corner in the secondary tried to make a tackle on me and they just bounced off. But that first year or two, I still got flattened more than once and reamed by the locker room and the coaches for it. “By me being a doctor and a retiree and still beating their lifts, I get to see in a small way how they will deal with adjustment to the League psychologically. Can they roll with it and adapt to not being Big Man on Campus anymore and be willing to learn or do they fold and wash out? It's important to see how they will react when I trash talk them a bit, since that will show me how they will take that trash talk in the locker room or that coach ripping them a new asshole for missing an assignment. They also tend to open up to me.a lot more after seeing proof that I really did play in the League. That, though I'm a doc now, I still know the NFL on the field and in the locker room - and could maybe still play if I wanted. That confidence and trust in me is important to get to their true feelings and attitudes and how those will gel with the various clubs and team cultures around the League." Lacey was utterly enchanted getting to hear some of Tait’s intellect and mental prowess at work. But even Kane understood, maybe for the first time in his life, that what he so often saw out of his dad wasn't just being a jock. He remembered what it was like to be called Matty by his teammates. How he sometimes felt belittled by it. Like a tiny boy when he would lose some practice matches or get out worked in the gym or starving to come in on weight. It gnawed at him so much so he changed his name. And the locker room at Stanford was even harder… he could nigh imagine what being a rookie in the NFL was like. The millions spent on one person - if they crumbled like he had crumbled at this lunch seeing so many innocent things as an attack. He understood. It made sense. Tait was doing them a favor by out performing them. Kane knew - he would do the same thing himself for the same reason if he had his Dad’s ability and prowess. Kane’s respect for his Dad expanded at that moment - he was more of a proper man than even he understood. The gravity toward his father increased… “What else do you do for the NFL?” Lacey asked… And so it went as the trio had a wonderful lunch. Lacey drove the conversation, pressing for more and more information about Tait. Tait, happily engaging and observing. And through the entire lunch, Lacey’s hand - whenever she could - touching and feeling Tait’s hard muscles when she thought Kane wouldn’t notice. Tait, having been told that it was no longer crossing a boundary, allowing Lacey to explore to a point. And Kane - gaining more and more appreciation and admiration. Kane’s resistance to the force that pulled him toward his dad slowly collapsing. Kane’s ability to resist his father in anything - slowly crumbling. The feeling… disturbing feeling, slowly increasing. The conflict that had slapped him in the face with the force of a steel chain to the mouth - slowly growing. But, finally, as it always does, the lunch came to an end. After Tait took care of the bill, the three of them walked through the door, and then stood outside. Tait first embraced his son. “I will be in town all week, son. I want to see you again, anytime I can. If not before the trip to the gym, then how about after that. I would really like a little father-son time if that is OK.” Tait then made his son look up as he looked down into the softer male face. “Maybe lunch or dinner, just you and me.” Tait’s tone was obvious - a time when Lacey was not there and when Kane would be a lot less defensive. And Kane could talk openly. Kane thought for a minute and nodded yes. He had never truly been able to say no to his Dad for long. He had never seen anyone who had truly been able to say no to Tait Holden. Then Tait turned to Lacey. “And you, young lady. Thank you for the wonderful meal and wonderful conversation. And I can’t wait to get to know you better as well.” “I can’t wait either, Tait.” Lacey said. The giant embraced the beauty queen, and the beauty queen returned the hug. Tait noticed something that no one could ever see given his size. Lacey - sure, she was hugging him. A hug that was a little too tight, a little too close, hands moving a little too much. She was feeling more than just his muscle again. She was leaning into him, like trying to draw strength from him. For what purpose unless it was – Tait felt her small hand slide just down just a bit. Too far down. The hand went over his hard glute cheek. Feeling, exploring. Kane could not see what she was doing given his massive frame. Tait did what he had done all night, only this time half out of reflex and half out of showing off. He flexed his glutes under her hand. The hand found them particularly impenetrable, as she traced lines until she found the entrance to one of his back pants pockets. The hand slid inside. Tait felt something… and then the hand withdrew and slid back up onto his low back. She pulled back, looked up, and gave Tait a strange, knowing glance. She then took Kane’s hand as if nothing had happened. As the three left the restaurant and Tait started for his car, Lacey could not help looking at Tait’s huge size 18 boots. She happened to wonder for a moment if the old saying was true, as she glanced down to Kane’s size 7 shoes… *** Tait got to the passenger door of the 49er’s team car and opened it. It was only then that he reached his hand into his back pants pocket. His fingers discovered a folded piece of paper. He withdrew it and opened it. Written there was a note - when had she had a chance to write this? - Was her hand feeling his leg, trying to get to a front pocket but was unable? Either way, she was good. Very good. “Tait - Please contact me ASAP. I need to see you again urgently. But text only. 123-555-1212. Please do not call. And PLEASE - Don't tell Kane. - Lacey” ***