Swallowing His Pride

My father's a proud man. Always made a good living doing custom carpentry, even built the house we grew up in with his own hands. As a single father, he worked hard and long to make sure I didn't go without growing up, from lacrosse camps to school activities, and even when the tuition bills from my private college came in. 

Maybe that's why it was an adjustment when the tables were turned. I was 30 and doing well in my finance career, real well, and I'd offer to help Dad out financially, or even give him a nice gift, he'd get a little upset. I learned to tread more carefully now, but I loved the old man and just wanted to give back a little after all he gave me. 

I almost didn't extend the offer for a winter vacation in Ft. Lauderdale, but it had been too long since Dad and I had more than a couple of days of quality time together, either on my quick trips back home, or his visits to New York City. This year's bonus was particularly fat, and I dunno, I just felt like we were overdue.

Dad must have been on the same wavelength because I didn't get the usual lectures about saving my money. Rather, though his gruff midwestern voice, I could hear an underlying excitement. "Sounds like fun, Rick."

Fun was an understatement. I'd been working like a dog and the downtime and sea air was just what the doctor ordered. As was the sex. That first day in Florida, Dad and I barely left the hotel room. It was some of the best sex we'd ever had, taking our time, exploring each other's bodies, resting after one go before starting again. Like a fucking honeymoon.

I didn't hook up often in New York, but I'd used my non-incest experiences to learn to be a better lover, both more attentive and more physical. Dad swore I was the only man in his life, and now he seemed changed, too. No more embarrassment about the fact I was the top in our relationship, and no more teasing me for wanting to nail his hot blue-collar ass a couple times a day. No longer did he seem to just indulge me like a spoiled kid, he seemed to want my cock as much as I wanted to be in him. 

We got a lot of our system that first day, and day two was time for the beach. We'd scarfed down a big breakfast and gone back up to the room. As we unpacked, it was like Dad was finally getting his first look around the place.

"Damn, Rick, this sure looks like an expensive place. You sure you couldn't have..."

"Come on, Dad," I interrupted with a laugh. "I wanna spend the money. I got plenty of savings, and I wanna have some fun money, you know?"

Dad chuckled at this dynamic we had. "All right, but a dad can worry, can't he?"

I winked. "Wouldn't have it any other way." 

He got a shy look on his face, like a kid about to ask for a raise in his allowance. "You think we can go out for a nice meal one night?"

"Like a date?" I blurted out. Dad had been all about me finding romance on my own in the big city, so this was coming out of left field. 

He owned up to it thought. "Yeah, a date. If you're not up for that, though, I get it."

"I'm absolutely up for it," I said. "Just surprised is all."

"What do they say? Absence makes the heart grow fonder?" his brown eyes seemed to twinkle. If I wasn't completely drained from our marathon sex the night before, I might have wrestled him to the bed at that moment. 

My father wasn't one for expressing emotion, I know, and sure enough he was already changing the subject. "Feel like getting some rays? I wanna make the guys back home jealous they're stuck with some shitty winter weather."

"You bet, Dad."

I watched him pull his usual board shorts out, and I remembered a few items I'd packed. "Dad... I bought you some swimwear for the occasion."

He stopped and looked at me, surprised. 

I pulled out three men's trunks and laid them on the bed. One was a squarish cut lycra trunk, the others skimpier speedos of the classic variety. "Think you can wear these this week?"

Dad's voice got a little quiet. "You can make me feel like an escort sometimes, you know that, Rick?"

"Fuck," I grunted. "Sorry, Dad."

He patted my shoulder in a no-hard-feelings kind of way and picked up one of the trunks. "You really wanna see me in one of these bananan hammocks?"

"You'd look amazing in one, Dad," I answered in a tone that it the idea had been in my sexual fantasies. "You have an incredible body you should show it off."

He held up the speedo, imagining it. "Not like you younger guys."

"Trust me, Dad, you're fucking incredible."

For all that my control issues could rub my father the wrong way, he always loved how completely smitten I was with him. He tossed the speedo on the bed and picked up the more generously cut trunks. "Let's start with these, OK?" he said. "But you owe me, son."

"You got it."

****

Dad relaxed into the new beach look. I think having guys, young guys, check him out helped. The only problem was I kept throwing hard. I tried not to be obvious, but fuck, Dad looked so amazing in those trunks. But it was also his confidence, finding his middle-aged sexiness at 52. He was the one who initiated sex when we got back to our room, his paws on my pecs through the sweaty T-shirt as he covered me from behind and kissed along my ear. "Up for a quickie before dinner?" This from a man who didn't like to talk about our continued sexual relationship until well after I graduated from college. 

I nodded, feeling real horny. "You said I owed you, Dad," I teased.

"Yeah?" he chuckled eagerly as he licked behind my ear lobe. "What do you have in mind?"

"How bout you fuck me?" I asked, with almost a cold directness before I lost my nerve.

Dad's paws stopped feeling me up and his body stood still behind me. "You sure about that, son?" My father had taken my virginity two weeks before I went off to college. I'd wanted it, so bad, but I didn't enjoy the experience, just couldn't relax into it. We tried a couple more times, until I announced I was strictly a top man.

"Sure I'm sure, Dad," I hissed. "I want you in me."

His hands now massaged my gym-toned chest again, more affectionate caresses than lewd groping now. "You been having some guys open you up?" he asked with concern. We didn't ever talk about my sex life outside us in detail, but I could tell Dad didn't want a repeat of before. 

I turned to face him, feeling his beach-soaked warmth against mine and smelling that salty-sweat beach smell on him, in addition to his normal dad smell. "No. You're gonna be the one to open me up. This week."

That hit him deep. "Fuck." I felt bad for holding out on him for so long. "I should wear a goddamn speedo more often," he said.

The joke was perfectly timed and we both laugh, our reaction cementing our rising lust. I reached down and felt up his package. He wasn't getting hard, he was fully rigid already, that thick dad dick threatening to spill out of his trunks. Still, I could see a concern on his face. "I was the first cherry you took, right?" I asked.

He nodded, a little turned on by the memory. "First and only."

"Well, I've taken a few," I boasted. "I'll walk you through it, OK?"

I thought he'd be pissed off at my control freak self, but he seemed grateful. "Yeah," he grunted. But already his fingers were peeling down my trunks, then feeling up my ass. Confident middle-aged daddy coming out to play. 

"Gonna nail my cocky ass, sir?" I teased between kisses.

"You betcha, boy." 

I stepped back and stripped down completely, letting my erection stick right up for him. "Let's hop in the shower first," I offered. Dad insisted he didn't mind sweaty me, but I wanted the extended foreplay, in the shower and after. I wanted him comfortable going for a long rim job.

We were both riding that edge between impatient and wanting to savor this experience. It was like a do over for Dad taking my virginity. Making out with me, his body on top of mine, kissing me, massaging my muscle, telling me how much he loved me. Then patiently he let me coach him in how to rim a guy. Not that he needed much instruction, but I urged him to vary his tongue action and to alternate to really work me up. 

This was night and day different than when I was 18. Part of it was me being ready for it, part of it was Dad having a little more man-to-man experience under his belt. We kissed again, deeply, then Dad reached for the lube. 

"More?" he asked after he gave three solid pumps to his fingers. 

"A little," I urged. 

I expected resistance and I know Dad did. But his fingers felt magical as they entered me, one then two. Alternating, going deeper. 

"Fuck, Dad!" I hissed. My cock was hard and leaking on my abs and I looked up at my father's brown eyes in hunger.

"I should have done this that first time," he hissed. Regretful, but clearly turned on too.

"You're doing it now, sir. Hitting my spot."

THAT made his lips curl into a leer. "I got something else to hit it with, son," he growled and got into place. 

Fuck, he was entering me! And it wasn't a battle between mind and body, but a melding. I'd taught Dad about his p-spot, told him why it felt so good when I fucked him, and now he was gonna return the favor.

That dad dick entered me slowly but steadily and with a moment of truth was gliding over my butt nut.

My hands clenched his biceps. "Dad!" I hissed. 

"Too much?" he asked with concern. 

"Fuck no!" I exclaimed and reached down to pull his hips into me. "Pound me, Dad!"

I didn't know where this neediness was coming from, I think it was just the emotional intensity of the moment, but Dad was worked up, too. With a steady firm stroke, he started fucking me with his full, meaty cock. 

We'd work on finesse and technique later. Now it was just an overdue fuck and release. Dad getting close after about a minute. I started stroking my dick to get there, too. 

Believe it or not, it was our first simultaneous orgasm. Me all over my washboard stomach, Dad deep into my guts.

"Oh, baby boy," he hissed as his body collapsed onto me, heated and sweaty, and his lips found mine. 

"You gotta pull out, Dad," I finally said. I hated to break that connection, buy my near virgin ass was now reminding me that I was near virgin. 

He nodded. "Right-O."

We both got a kick by the cummy plop of that dong being extracted, like a plunger from my insides. "I'm afraid I came buckets."

That idea thrilled me. "Just a sign I shouldn't have made you wait for that."

Dad leaned up and looked down. Sexually satisfied and more than a little emotional. He patted my thighs, which I now rested back down on the mattress. "Don't get me wrong. I like you in take-charge mode, too, Rick. Probably even prefer it, if I'm honest. But THAT... that was fucking hot."

"It was," I answered. I was trying to reconcile in my head what this meant about myself and my sexual identification. Then I decided labels didn't matter. It was Dad, and I knew intuitively, it would all be great with him. 

I looked over at the clock. It was now 7:30. I was hungry, but I didn't want to go out. I just wanted to say in this room with Dad and fuck more. 

"Whaddya say we order room service tonight?" I offered.

"Room service?" Dad deadpanned. "Isn't that expensive?" I was about to get mad when my father burst into a hearty laugh. "Calm down, stud, I'm just fucking teasing."

I felt embarrassed by being caught out so easily, but Dad's warm body scooted up to me and pulled me into a soft, romantic kiss. 

"I've been too fucking proud to say this son," Dad started. "But thank you for bringing me on this vacation."