When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the sound of crickets cascading around the tent like a waterfall.
The second thing I noticed was the feeling of cum leaking out of my asshole.
I opened my eyes to see a forest of gray and brown beneath my fingertips. I lay curled up against my father, my cheek resting on his chest. His arm was around me, his thumb gently grazing my skin.
It was dark inside the tent. The only light came from the moon outside. I blinked a few times and breathed in the smell of my father.
Earthy musk. Pine, with a hint of patchouli underneath. His cologne, maybe.
I took another breath, savoring his smell. The way his chest rose and fell under my head. The coarse, wiry hairs on his chest. The way he held me, gentle and close. The slight ache in my loins, painful but pleasant.
“You awake?”
His voice was soft, like when I was younger and he would try not to wake me as he carried me to bed.
I lifted my head, nodding. “I didn’t remember falling asleep. What time is it?”
“About midnight, I think. You’ve been out for a couple of hours.”
“Have you been up this whole time?”
He let out a chuckle, brushing back one of my curls. “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.”
I stretched my legs, rubbing my toes against the inside of the sleeping bag. “'Cause I rocked your world, right?”
He didn’t say anything. Just looked at me like I was the most beautiful boy in the world.
“Too much to think about,” he said after a moment.
I sat up. “You don’t regret it, do you?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Not at all. Do you?”
I bit my lip, smiling. I shook my head.
“I hope you don’t feel like you have anything to be ashamed of,” he said, rubbing the soft skin of my upper back. “You haven’t done anything wrong. If anything, I’m the irresponsible one.”
I laughed. “I’m pretty sure it takes two to tango. Or to have… gay incest, or whatever.”
That brought another smile out of him, one of those sheepish ones you see bears do on Instagram.
“I’m the dad,” he said, as if reminding himself. “I should know better than to bring you into all this.”
I rolled my eyes. “You didn’t bring me anywhere I didn’t wanna go, Dad. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly do what I’m told.”
I ran my hand along his torso, down the mountain of fur on his chest and stomach to the thick patch of hair above his cock.
“For example, nobody told me to do this.” I leaned in and kissed his chest, then his belly.
I felt him breathe in suddenly, his cock beginning to stir as I kissed my way toward it.
“Son, you don’t have to—“
“Shh…”
I laid on my side, cupping his growing cock in my hand. This was the thing that had deflowered me just a couple of hours ago, the thing that had created me almost 19 years ago. I’d never seen it so close before, never held and studied it like this.
As far as penises go, my father’s dick took the cake. It looked longer than it was, probably because it was so large in circumference. When he was flaccid, the head sat sheathed behind his foreskin, but now that he was getting hard again, the tip was peeking out like a turtle emerging from its shell.
I put my lips on it, giving the tip a gentle kiss.
“Oh, fuck, son,” said Dad, his shoulders drooping. “Your mouth is so soft.”
I wrapped my lips around it, taking the head into my mouth and giving it a gentle suck. The taste was strong but not unpleasant, the taste of sweat and musk and me. I swallowed him deeper, grabbing his balls as a handhold.
“Fuck, Leo,” Dad groaned, his forehead creasing. “Please do that again.”
Smiling around his cock, I tugged on his balls once more, gripping the soft, fleshy orbs with my fingers. I couldn’t believe I had once been in there, and now the same seed was making its way deep inside me.
I took Dad deeper into my mouth, passing the back of my throat and sliding into my esophagus. I had gotten pretty good at deepthroating with Brock, although at the time, I hadn’t been aware that I was practicing for someone better.
No, none of them compared to my father, the man who had taken my virginity. If I were being honest with myself, they were all just pale imitations of him. I’d been chasing someone like him without realizing it, never allowing for the fact that I would ever have the chance to experience the real thing. But now, nose buried deep in my father’s pubes, I knew that nothing would have been able to scratch the itch like my father could.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” my Dad exclaimed, grabbing the back of my head and gently kneading my curls. “Where did you learn all this?”
I pulled off his cock, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “Just because I was a virgin before tonight doesn’t mean I was clueless.”
His eyes widened in surprise, like I’d confirmed something he’d suspected but not known for sure.
“So… that was your first time, then? You haven’t been with anyone else other than me?”
I frowned slightly, still stroking his wet cock. “No, I haven’t. Why, does that make you feel like a big man?”
His cheeks turned ruddy. “No.”
“You sure?” I pulled myself up onto his lap, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. I could feel his cock digging into my ass, searching for the entrance to paradise. “It doesn’t excite you to be the one to take your son’s virginity? To go where no man’s dick has gone before?”
I rubbed my ass against his cock, teasing him.
He groaned. “Fuck… of course it does.”
I kissed his neck, still rubbing my ass against his dick. The head was pressed up against my opening now, which was still loose and sticky from before.
“Jesus, son…”
He pushed me back, looking like it took every ounce of his willpower not to ram his cock inside me right then and there.
“Of course, I’m excited to be the first man you’ve ever been with. I’m just…”
I frowned. This was seriously killing the mood.
“You’re just what?”
He sighed. “I’m just worried that you don’t know any better. If I’m the only guy you’ve ever been with…”
He looked down, trying to gather his words. Where was he going with this?
“What I’m saying is that you have options. Maybe you should explore a little, see what’s out there before you choose someone like me.”
I sat back, barely able to hide the scowl stretched across my face.
“Is this some kind of game? I thought you wanted to be with me. Now you’re telling me to go fuck some other guy? After you pretty much made it your mission to keep me from doing just that? The hell is wrong with you?”
I turned away, but he grabbed me by the arm and held me tight.
“Wait,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “That’s not what I’m saying, son.”
“I couldn’t have been that bad of a lay,” I said, pouting.
He turned my chin until I was facing him. “You were the best sex of my life,” he said.
I felt my body tingle. I looked away, trying to hold back a smile.
He sighed. “I just don’t want you to limit yourself to me when you haven’t even had a chance to explore things for yourself. You were right—I was too overprotective. You should be able to fool around with guys, make mistakes, get your heart broken.”
I smiled despite myself. “I think I’ve already done all three just with you.”
He grinned, and soon we were both laughing. I wanted desperately to touch him again, to feel his arms around me. But I still felt hesitant, even after we’d fucked.
As if sensing my dilemma, he held out his hand. “Come here.”
I took his hand, letting him pull me in for a hug. His body was warm, warmer than I would have thought, given how cool the night was.
“I love being this close to you,” he whispered in my ear.
His touch felt electric, like every hair on my skin was standing up on end.
Our lips met again. He wrapped me in his arms and pulled me back onto his lap. He was so strong, the way he handled me. Like I was weightless. He squeezed my lower back, massaging the skin as we ground against each other. I felt light-headed, dizzy from his kisses. I needed a break to catch my breath. This was all happening so fast that I could barely hang on. But I wanted it, too. It was like a ride I couldn’t get off. That thought thrilled me. The thought of being taken again, being manhandled. Dad had said I didn’t want to be used and discarded, but that wasn’t exactly true. I wanted to be used, desperately–wanted Dad to take charge and use my body for his pleasure. I guess it was the discarding part that I didn’t want. Somehow, with Dad, I didn’t think that would be an issue.
“Fuck, son…” Dad growled. “I wish I could be inside you again.”
I held his face, gently brushing my thumbs across his scruff. “Then take me.”
His forehead creased. “Aren’t you sore? I don’t want to hurt you–”
“I can take it,” I said. “I promise. No more lying, okay? I’ll tell you if it’s too much for me.”
I could see his fatherly instinct at war with his libido, his desire to protect me fighting his need to breed. Thankfully, lust won out, and soon his mouth was on mine again, his kisses even fiercer than before. He grabbed my waist, holding me steady as he thrust against me. His kisses turned sloppy, his tongue writhing against mine as he grunted in my mouth.
I could feel his cock stabbing my thighs, my balls, my taint–desperately trying to hit home. I reached down to guide it into place. I needed to be entered again. My hole was still sticky, wet with cum that had leaked out while I slept. I rubbed the head of his cock against it, gathering up his essence to ease his way back inside me.
“Oh, daddy,” I moaned as the head began to press inside me.
He stopped kissing me and looked at me, his dull, lustful eyes suddenly sharp with worry. “Is it okay?”
I nodded. “I’m okay, daddy. Just go slow.”
“I’ll go slow, baby boy,” he promised, his eyes slowly drifting back down to my lips. “I won’t hurt you…”
His mouth was back on mine again. My hole stretched to accommodate its intruder, a sharp ache echoing through my body as it cried out in protest at being violated again so soon. I took a deep breath and focused on relaxing, determined to overcome the pain and give my father the pleasure of my body again.
The hardest part was the head. My hole was still mostly stretched out from our earlier encounter, but it had closed a little bit in the last couple of hours. It took a few slow, careful minutes of pushing to open me up again. He was sweet, though–coaxing me open with little thrusts, distracting me with kisses and sweet words.
When the head finally popped through, I let out a small cry of relief.
“You okay?” Dad asked, panting.
I nodded. “I want it deeper.”
I slowly slid down my father’s cock, his last load allowing him to glide right through me. I was hard and dripping, my dick standing out like a pencil from my small patch of curly brown pubic hair. Dad wrapped his fist around it, dwarfing my smaller cock with his hand as he stroked me.
“Keep breathing, son,” he said, not breaking eye contact with me. “Open up for me.”
I kept my eyes on his as I took another inch of him inside me. His soft, gentle strokes were helping me relax, until finally I could feel his warm, hairy balls underneath my cheeks. I felt stretched wide open, sure that the head of his cock was currently lodged somewhere between my colon and my small intestine.
“Dad,” I said, panting, “I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this. But you have a huge dick.”
He grinned, then flexed his cock inside me.
“Ugh… fuck, do that again.”
He throbbed in me once more, sending tingles throughout my body. I pulled him in for a kiss, moaning as his dick pulsed inside me again and again, like a heartbeat. My cock rubbed between our stomachs, sliding between our sweat-soaked skin while he worked himself in and out of me. Our bellies grew slick with my precum. He held his forehead against my own as he probed deep inside me, gently exploring my insides.
The pleasure was so intense that it made my vision grow hazy. I couldn’t believe I was actually having sex. Me, the perpetual virgin, finally deflowered. And it was so different from what I’d imagined. Scary, but so fucking fun. To turn myself over completely to this man, to my father. To let him explore the deepest part of me, let him take me wherever he wanted to go. I couldn’t imagine how it must feel on his end, but for me, it was like walking a tightrope between pleasure and pain. But the pain only made it more real and exciting.
I wanted to go higher. I wanted to take charge in my own buggering.
“Lie back, daddy,” I said, my hands gently pressing into his hairy chest.
He leaned back until he was flat on the ground, his rigid cock still buried deep within me. He put his arms behind his head and gazed up at me, his lips twisted in a proud smirk. His eyes roamed across my body, drinking in every inch of me. I steadied myself on his chest, squeezing his meaty pecs with my fingers. Then I ground my ass back against his cock, swiveling my hips until I found the spot I was looking for.
“Oh, fuck, Dad,” I moaned, my eyelids fluttering.
“That’s your button, baby,” he said softly. He traced his fingers down my chest and stomach, giving my cock with a gentle squeeze. “Go ahead and use daddy’s dick to find it.”
I sat up, slowly raising myself off Dad’s massive member until it was almost halfway out of me. Then I lowered my hips, a weak moan escaping my lips as he slid past that wonderful, wonderful button again.
“Fuck, Daddy…”
“I know, son.”
“Ohhhhhhhhh…” I whined. “That’s my spot… That’s my spot!”
“I know, baby. It feels good for me, too.”
Precum poured out of me, pooling on my father’s belly. “I’m… I’m leaking…”
“Shh… Don’t worry, baby boy. Just let it happen.”
I rode him faster now, mashing the head of his dick against my button like a fucking arcade game. My dick jumped every time he hit it, a thick strand of precum drooling out of the tip. Dad just held me by my legs, watching with delighted wonder as I fucked myself on his cock. I knew he’d seen plenty of guys in this exact position, including my cousin Larson. But the way he looked at me made me feel like I was the only one who mattered. Like it was my pleasure he really wanted to see.
His biceps tensed as he held me, the cords of muscle in his shoulders straining against his skin. I wanted to touch him, to worship him.
“Flex for me, daddy.”
He let go of my legs, raising his arms to flex his bulging biceps. “You like daddy’s muscles?” he asked, smirking.
“Oh, God, yes,” I said breathlessly. I wrapped my fingers around them, barely able to keep my grip as he pummeled me. He was so virile, such a fucking man that I could hardly believe I was an only child. Then he hit something in me so deep that my pussy tensed up, choking his cock in a death grip.
“God dammit, son,” he huffed, “Keep going like that, you’re gonna make me blow.”
“Do… it,” I said choppily. “I… want your… cum…”
Dad’s fingers squeezed my thighs in a death grip, his eyes rolling back as he started thrusting up to meet my bounces. I watched his body jerk as he succumbed to the pleasure my hole was giving him–MY hole. I was doing this, it was me giving him pleasure and making him orgasm for the second time in a night. The thought was almost enough to push me over the edge. But before I could cum, Dad’s face contorted and he held me in place, his jaw twisted in a cry of release.
“ARGH… FUCK! Take my seed…”
His hands shook as he held me. His dick throbbed, burying jet after jet of cum deep inside me. I felt high watching him cum, feeling him pulse inside me as my pussy milked him of his load. This was the best part–this was power. Knowing I was responsible, that I was the hole that could make my father cum… I felt invincible.
I sat there in my father’s lap, his cock still lodged deeply inside my rectum, watching the strain on his face as his orgasm subsided. When his eyes finally fluttered open, they were out of focus. As he caught sight of me, he smiled.
“Come here.” He grabbed my ass, lifting me off his cock and onto my hands and knees until I was crouched over him. “I want to taste you.”
He slid down until his face was underneath my cock, then swallowed me to the root. I moaned, barely able to stay upright as his tongue swirled around my cock. Holy shit, my dad was an amazing cocksucker! He squeezed my ass, pulling me deeper into his mouth as he fellated me. His touch was electric, squeezing and kneading my cheeks while he worked me with his tongue. I no longer had the strength to hold myself up. I collapsed onto him, pinning his head to the ground. Dad wasn’t fazed at all–he kept slurping his tongue around my cock, massaging my ass as he extracted my load from me.
“I… I’m gonna… I’m gonna squirt, Dad,” I whimpered, unable to hold back any longer.
A high, weak moan poured out of me as I came, flooding my father’s mouth with my cum. He sucked hard on me, his tongue milking out my load. My legs shook involuntarily, the pleasure too intense to bear. Dad wrung every last drop out of me, his lips sliding down my cock until he let it fall out with a wet plop.
I rolled onto my back, too weak to move. My eyes glazed over as I stared at the tent ceiling. The faint glow of the moon shone through the canvas as a small white orb. Dad’s hands were on me, stroking my leg, cradling my empty balls. His mouth planted furry little kisses on my groin as he whispered sweet things I could feel but not hear. I was light as a feather, my head empty of the usual nonsense. Was sex always this good, this freeing? Or was it just sex with my dad?
I didn’t know. I didn’t care. All I knew was that he made me feel good, and as long as he did, I never wanted it to stop.
This time, I was the one on my back when we dozed off, my father’s head resting on my chest. It was a bit like cuddling a gorilla, and if I’d been more awake, I probably would have laughed at how accurate the comparison was. But sleep soon overtook me, and once again I was dead to the world.
I might have slept through the night if I hadn’t woken up a couple hours later with a raging hard-on and a desperate need to piss. Dad was fast asleep, his face still buried into my chest as he snored. I ducked out from underneath him, slipping out of the sleeping bag and crawling over to the tent flap as quietly as I could.
I was about to unzip it when I realized I was fully naked and there were at least a dozen tents in the immediate vicinity. If anyone were still up or out, they’d see a freshly fucked twink with an incredible ass stark naked in the forest. Which would probably invite questions, seeing as we were at a father-son retreat. The only thing nearby was my dad’s boxer shorts, so I slipped them on. They were so wide I could have fit through one of his leg holes, so I held them against my waist as I unzipped the tent and stepped outside.
It was cool out, but luckily warm enough for me to do the deed in just my dad’s boxers. I glanced around at the other tents, keeping an eye out for anyone in our immediate vicinity. The moon cast a glow across the campground. The place was completely silent, the only sound coming from the wind blowing through the trees at the edge of the clearing.
I pulled out my cock and relieved myself on the ground outside the tent. I soon felt the familiar relief as my bladder emptied. There was a fullness inside my bottom, presumably the two loads my father had deposited in me just a few hours earlier. I could have emptied myself of his jizz, but I kept it inside, wanting to feel him in me for as long as possible.
When I reentered the tent, he was lying on his back, his body spilled out of the sleeping bag. I stared at him in the moonlight, taking in the sight of his older, beautiful body.
His forearm rested above his head, exposing the light brown hair underneath his armpit. His crewcut looked darker than usual in the moonlight, not the same dirty-blond color I was used to seeing in the daytime. He’d let his mustache grow longer as of late, such that it drooped almost to his bottom lip. His beard was also starting to grow in, which, unlike his mustache, had many more speckles of gray mixed in.
Jesus, my father was a handsome man. No wonder I hadn’t been able to resist him. He had the kind of face that made you want to have his babies. Of course, it was probably for the best that I couldn’t. Incest with your dad was hard enough without having to worry about breastfeeding Sloth from the Goonies one day.
“Mmmm…” Dad mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, moving his arm until it was resting over his eyes.
I knelt beside him, gently running my fingertips along his body so as not to wake him up. I’d always known Dad was pretty muscular from years of working out and doing construction, but I’d never really gotten a chance to explore his body up close or really feel him (our previous encounter of him flexing for me while pounding my pussy notwithstanding).
I touched his shoulder, feeling the strong, dense muscle that lay underneath. I traced my finger down his bicep to his forearm, which was covered in veins and a light dusting of dark hair. His chest moved slowly with his breathing. That chest hair drove me wild. The best part of getting to ride him was running my fingers through his thick carpet of hair, petting it like a furry blanket. Okay, not the best part–that was obviously his cock. But it was a close runner-up.
Dad’s nipples were pale in complexion, not much darker than the surrounding skin. But they stood out from the forest of chest hair, pale and hard. I wanted to take one of them into my mouth and suck on it the way he’d done to me, but I didn’t want to wake him up just yet. I was enjoying this moment, getting to explore his body like this.
His stomach was where he held most of his extra weight, and it spilled out from his gut like a spare tire. I knew he was self-conscious of it, and my Mom always liked to tease him about it whenever he got a little too cocky around the house. But as I looked at it now, the way his tan, freckled belly rose and fell with every breath, I knew that I wouldn’t change a thing about him.
I grabbed the edge of the sleeping bag and pulled, slowly revealing the lower half of my father’s body. His cock lay flaccid against his leg, bigger now than mine was when I was fully erect. I could complain that the big dick gene skipped me, but who cared how big I was when this big, beautiful penis was right here in front of me?
Dad’s thighs were also huge, almost as wide around as my waist. He slept with them spread open, his hairy ballsack pooled against the floor of the tent.
Don’t even get me started on those balls. Those fucking balls.
I needed to get a closer look, to see the family jewels up close and personal. I knelt between his legs, leaning in until my face was only an inch or two away from his sack. The tip of his cock was barely visible through his foreskin, resting gently against his leg. His testicles were the size of golf balls, two fleshy orbs that splayed out onto the ground just begging to be suckled. I put my nose as close as I dared and took a deep breath, inhaling my father’s scent.
Fuck.
Jesus Christ.
I mean, really.
Who knew a man could smell so good?
My father’s balls smelled better than anything I’d ever smelled in my life. It was like a Christmas tree, a campfire, aged whiskey, and sex all rolled into one. No longer caring, I buried my nose between his sack and his leg and breathed as deeply as I could.
His body shifted underneath me, and I heard him moaning softly as I huffed his ballsack. No longer in control of my desire, I grabbed his sack with my hand, slipping one of the fleshy orbs into my mouth.
“Mmmm… oh, fuck,” my dad groaned.
I suckled on his testicle, savoring the sweaty taste. His cock flopped on my face a couple of times like a fish out of water, expanding as he began to get hard. I swirled his ball around in my mouth, enjoying the wrinkly texture and savory taste of his manhood. Wishing I could fit them both in my mouth at the same time, I reluctantly let one ball slip out of my mouth to swallow the other one.
Dad let out another loud groan. His fingers wrapped in my curly hair, holding me in a tight grip.
“Baby, what are you… Oh…”
He was kneading my head now, massaging my scalp as I nursed on his testicle. My tongue rolled around the folds in his sack and the warm, pulsing orb underneath. My father’s vitality. His manhood just inches away, now grown to full length on my face.
My hole, still sore from being pummeled twice in such close succession, now ached to be filled again. I ran my hands across my father’s belly, feeling the coarse hairs and warm flesh beneath my fingertips. I loved this man’s burly frame, every inch of it. If I could spend the rest of my life in this tent, worshipping his body and taking him inside me again and again, I would die a happy slut.
“I need a minute,” my father said, his voice choked.
He pressed gently on my shoulders, pushing me back until his sack fell out of my open mouth.
I must have been pouting, because he laughed and said, “Oh, don’t look so sad, baby. You know you drive me wild. But I’m not as young as you–I need time to recharge.”
He opened his arms and beckoned me to him.
I nodded graciously and curled up against his chest, secretly determined to get him back inside me as soon as possible. If anything could overcome the physical boundaries of a 52-year-old man’s libido, it would be this pussy.
I lay there against him for a minute, idly tracing his chest hair. It was nice being here like this. Not being sexual, just tender. Listening to his breathing and feeling his chest rise and fall. Elijah had said I had no interest in anything “safe,” yet I had to admit that, lying here in my father’s arms, I’d never felt safer.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked me after a minute.
I had thought he was asleep, so his question took me by surprise.
“I dunno,” I said. “I guess… how you make me feel.”
I looked up to see him smiling. “Good, I hope?”
I nodded shyly. “Yeah. Really good.”
He kissed me on the forehead.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
He sighed. “The future.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Not allowed.”
He looked at me with a confused smile. “What do you mean?”
I made an X with my fingers. “This is a no-future zone. In this tent, we don’t talk about what happens next. Just hot sex and pillow talk.”
He laughed. “Okay, so what are we allowed to talk about? Besides how much we wanna fuck each other?”
“Maybe we could ask each other questions,” I said. “Now that we’re being honest with each other.”
He considered this for a moment. “Okay. I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know.”
I sat up, wrapping my arms around my knees. The air inside the tent was warm, heavy with our breath and the lingering scent of sweat and fabric. What did I wanna ask him? Before tonight, I felt like I’d had so many questions. Now they’d all flown away with my virginity.
Finally, something came to me.
“When did you know you weren’t straight?”
He took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled slowly, his eyes roaming across the dim ceiling of the tent. “Middle school. When I went through puberty. I had this friend, a boy named Tommy Miller. We did everything together: school, baseball, cub scouts. I think a part of me always knew. We’d wrestle, and it felt like… more than that. Thrilling.”
“Did anything ever happen with him?”
He sighed, folding his hands behind his head. “We were having a sleepover in the basement. Staying up late, talking about school and sports and girls. Tommy asked me who I had a crush on–”
“Please tell me you didn’t say him,” I said.
“I said I didn’t really like anyone,” he continued. “Then I asked him who he liked. He told me it was someone we both knew. I don’t know, the way he said it… I guess I thought he was talking about me. Like maybe he felt the same way I did. I didn’t even mean to, but I ended up reaching over and holding his hand.”
I studied his face, trying to imagine my dad as a young, nervous boy with a crush. I couldn’t picture it. “What happened?”
Dad gave a tired smile. “He just rolled over and went to sleep. But after that, everything changed. No more sleepovers. Avoiding me in the halls. And I don’t know if Dad saw us, or maybe he just sensed it, but he was different toward me as well. Harder, if that’s even possible.”
I took his hand. “I didn’t know all that about Grandpa. You never talk about him.”
“There’s not much to talk about. He was who he was. I think he loved me, in his own way.”
A beat of silence passed.
“So,” I said gently, “when was your first time?”
He raised an eyebrow. “With a man or a woman?”
“Both, I guess.”
He shrugged. “Hooking up with women was easy. It gave you social points, made everybody envy you. But it felt… shallow. Like I was keeping part of myself locked up. Don’t get me wrong, I like women. But when you’re young, and your hormones are raging and you’re exploring what it’s like to be a sexual being… It’s kind of like having one hand tied behind your back.”
It was strange hearing Dad talk about all this. But I wanted to know more, to peek behind the curtain a little further.
“What about guys?”
“My first year of college,” said Dad. “I was smart enough to wait until I was out of my father’s house, at least. At college, I could be anyone I wanted.”
“Were you out, then?”
He shook his head. “It was the early ‘90s. Still a lot of stigma. But I could at least explore it.”
“So, who was your first?”
He smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. “Terrence McMullen. He lived in the dorm next to mine. Tall, lean, beautiful dark bronze skin. He wore one of those afro picks, but his hair was too short, so it always fell out.” He chuckled. “I thought he was the sexiest guy I’d ever met.”
I felt a strange pang of jealousy. “How did it happen?” I asked.
He shrugged. “We were at a party. We’d both had too much to drink. Found a room, fooled around. Almost got caught, which scared the shit out of both of us.” He scratched the back of his neck. “He made me promise not to tell anyone. Not that I needed convincing.”
“Did it help? I mean, with feeling locked up?”
He thought for a moment. “Kind of. I think… I think I got off on the secrecy. Like it was my own private thing. No one could take it from me.”
I opened my mouth to ask another question when he gave me a sly grin and said, “Okay, that was about a dozen questions. My turn.”
He lay next to me, propped on one elbow. The way he looked at me gave me butterflies.
“What could I have done differently to support you? As your Dad?”
I groaned. “Seriously?”
He raised his palm in protest. “What? I thought we could ask whatever we wanted?”
“As long as it’s not a mood-killer. Ask me something fun.”
“Your question wasn’t exactly a bucket of laughs.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not my fault your answer was depressing. Now come on, hit me.”
He growled. “All right, fine. What’s the best memory you have as a kid?”
“Easy. That trip to New York when I was sixteen.”
Dad smiled. “I remember that. We took you to see Phantom of the Opera.”
“And the Statue of Liberty, and the Empire State Building. And I snuck out the last night and went to a gay club.”
Dad sat up sharply. “You what?”
“They didn’t let me in. But I hung around outside, watching people going in and out. All these attractive gay guys and these glamorous women.”
“I think those were drag queens, honey.”
I furrowed my brow. “Hmm. Okay, that makes a lot more sense. At the time, I just thought they were the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. Anyway, it was so cool.”
He looked wistful. “I’m sorry you didn’t have that back home.”
I shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“You didn’t feel that way earlier.”
I looked down. He was right. I didn’t want to make him feel bad, especially since we’d only just mended things, but I couldn’t erase how I felt. I had things I needed to know.
“Why did we have to live here?” I asked. “Why not a city? Or just somewhere bigger?”
“I grew up here,” he said simply. “Went to college here. Met your mom here. When my dad passed, I had the choice: take over the company or sell it.”
“I wish you’d sold it,” I said, trying to hide the bitterness in my voice.
He went quiet. “I do too, sometimes. But construction was all I knew. If I sold the company, I’d just be doing the same thing, but for someone else.”
“You asked what you could have done to support me,” I said. “I wish you’d asked me what I wanted.”
“You were a kid. I didn’t think it was fair to put that weight on you.”
“I know,” I admitted. “But it would’ve meant something. To be asked. To feel like I had some agency.”
He looked older in that moment, his face weathered with regret. “I tried to be a good dad. I’m sorry you felt so alone.”
“You were a good dad,” I said. “But I still felt alone.”
He was quiet, then asked, “Why didn’t you ever ask me about my past?”
“Would you have told me?” I countered. “You’re so private. About everything. You never told me you were like me. Not even when I came out.”
“I know,” he said. “I guess I just didn’t want to make that about me. You were young, and I didn’t think it was appropriate to go into my sexual history. And bringing it up meant talking about your mother, too.”
I hesitated. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go there, but part of me had to know.
“Did you cheat on her when I was a kid?”
He sighed. “I know it might look like it, but no. I told you, we had an agreement. In fact, it was her idea.”
I blinked. “Wait. What?”
He nodded. “She was always a free spirit. It was what I loved about her. She said she didn’t want to be like every other boring couple.”
It took me a moment to process this. My mom, whose idea of a fun night out was a glass of Chardonnay at Applebee's, wanted to be a swinger. The thought made me feel slightly nauseous.
“Did she know you had sex with men?” I asked after a minute.
He took a deep breath. “I think so.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I tried to tell her. But she was adamant that she didn’t want to know the details, no matter what. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”
I sat back, letting it all sink in. “So you’ve had an open marriage this whole time? And you guys kept it from me?”
He let out a short laugh. “Forgive me if it didn’t feel like bedtime story material. But no, I wasn’t sleeping around when you were little,” he said, his voice a little softer. “I was focused on raising you.”
“This is a lot to process,” I said, lying back on my sleeping bag and staring at the ceiling of the tent.
He lay down next to me, softly nudging my leg. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Honestly, probably for the best that you didn’t.”
We sat there in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of the crickets outside.
“Can I ask you something else?” he said.
I groaned. “I think I’m all tapped out emotionally.”
He rolled over and smiled at me. “Don’t worry. It’s a fun question.”
I glanced at him suspiciously. “All right.”
“After you turned 18, when you started dressing differently–”
“Like a slut, you mean?”
“I was going to say a bit more revealingly. But yes.”
“What about it?”
He smirked. “You had to know you were driving me wild, right?”
I rolled over on my stomach, wiggling my ass at him. “I don’t know what you mean!”
“I think you know exactly what I mean,” he said, grinning. “There’s only so many times you can see your son in a thong before you start to get funny ideas in your head.”
I rubbed his thigh. “Yeah? What kind of ideas?”
I could see his cock stir.
“The kind of ideas you keep to yourself until you’re alone in a room, tugging on your cock and trying not to imagine what your son’s hole feels like.”
Now my cock was the one stirring.
His eyes trailed down to my ass. “Fuck, son,” he whispered, biting his lip.
He put his hand on my cheek, slowly spreading it open to reveal my bruised and battered hole. He sucked in a sharp breath.
“I’ll admit, I hoped to get a rise out of men,” I said, sliding back until my ass was in the air. “I just didn’t know my own father would get caught in the crosshairs.”
Dad squeezed my cheek. “Son, a man would have to be dead not to want a taste of this.”
I was hard again. I wiggled my ass in the air, burying my face in the ground.
Dad took the hint. I felt his strong hands spreading me open, then the scratch of his scruff in between my cheeks as he slid his tongue inside me once more.
It felt so good after being railed, his tongue flicking against my pussy and opening me back up. I arched my back, practically purring like a cat as my father licked inside me. I would never get over how good it felt to be eaten out. The way my father’s tongue alternatively jabbed and caressed all my sensitive parts. He ate me like a man dying of hunger, like he hadn’t eaten for days and my pussy was an ice cream sundae.
I reached back and pulled his head deeper into me, massaging his scalp. I moaned as he kneaded my cheeks with his fingertips, his touch sending ripples across my skin. I loved feeling violated, having this private part of me exposed and played with by another man. I was consumed by my need for him, my need to be filled, to be stretched and pounded again.
“I’m ready,” I said, my voice hot and breathy. “Please, daddy. I need it.”
He raised his mouth from my hole, his jaw wet with saliva and my pussy juice. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby–”
“Daaaddy,” I whined. “Pleeeeease…”
He gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. I heard the sound of rustling as he repositioned himself. When I felt something hard pressing against my hole, I let out a moan.
“Fuck me, Dad.”
He did. Slowly but without stopping, he pushed inside me again. My body opened to him easily this time, and, although my rectum ached and put up a feeble protest, the pleasure of receiving him outweighed everything else.
“Oh, fuck, baby boy,” he groaned, squeezing my hips as he slid in deeper. “You’re so warm and wet, wrapped around daddy’s cock…”
I pushed back against him, burying another inch of his manhood inside me and causing him to let out an “oomf!”
When his balls slapped against my own, I knew that he was all the way inside me again. He held it there for a moment, giving me time to adjust, but I was ready for more. I clenched the weakened muscles in my ass as tightly as I could and was rewarded with the low, guttural sound of his moaning.
He leaned into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “You’re such a natural bottom, son.”
I squeezed my hole again, urging him forward.
He leaned back and gripped me by my hips, pulling me off his dick by a couple of inches before slowly pushing back in. Pleasure buzzed through me like a low hum, warm and constant. I tried to push back against him, but he held me like a pocket pussy as he slowly worked me back and forth against his cock.
It was near agony to be on the edge of such intense pleasure. After a minute of his slow, methodical fucking, I turned my head and glared at him.
“You’re holding back.”
“I don’t want to hurt you–”
“You said that. And I said I’m fine.” I scoffed. “Where’s the guy who railed Pastor Carl in that tent? Who fucked the shit out of more guys than I can count?”
He rubbed my ass cheek tenderly with his thumb. “They didn’t mean anything. You do.”
“That’s sweet. But I want the full Jud Wyte experience.”
I grabbed him by the hands and thrust my ass back against him, burying him in me up to the root. He let out a groan, his forearms flexing as he tried to stop me. But I held fast, keeping his hands in a tight grip as I shoved my ass back and forth on his dick. The tent filled with the sounds of flesh smacking against flesh as he fucked my sloppy pussy.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” I moaned. “Mmmmmm… daddy, yes...”
He wrestled free of my grip, but to my delight, he didn’t slow down. Instead, he grabbed my hips, holding me in place as he finally began to fuck me like a man.
“Ugh… fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he grunted, stabbing my insides again and again.
“Ohhhhhh…” I let out a low whine, my mouth hanging open as my face pushed into the ground.
The sound of Dad’s grunting was music to my ears, the perfect accompaniment to a good rough fuck. I could feel his brute strength through his thrusts. He wasn’t holding back anymore. This was how my father liked to fuck, how he’d fucked countless men in front of me. It was even better than it looked from the outside.
I rode the wave as best I could, focused on keeping my back arched and my pussy open. I was determined to be the best fuck of his life. It was intimidating, thinking of how many bottoms had been in my position. But from the sounds he was making, I figured I was holding my own just fine.
The full weight of his body came crashing down on me, crushing me into the tent floor. He wrapped his arms around my torso and squeezed me tight, pinning me to the ground as he kept thrusting into me.
“FUCK!” he nearly yelled into my ear. “Jesus, son, your pussy is like butter.”
“Rail… me… daddy,” I choked out, barely able to speak from being crushed by his weight.
My cock dug into the ground, trapped between my body and the floor as my father fucked me like an animal. I let out a series of low groans as my dad’s dick pummeled my special spot over and over again. I was completely at his mercy now–an object to be used for his pleasure.
I fucking loved it.
I could feel the sweat dripping off his body and onto my skin, hear his short, ragged breaths as he grunted and rutted into me. I closed my eyes, my fingers like claws digging into the ground as I let him have his way with me. I had never needed anything like I needed him now, needed to feel him cum inside me once more. I was an addict in need of a fix, a greedy bottom who wouldn’t stop until his father’s cum was pouring out of his loose, gaped hole.
Desperate for his release, I squeezed my ass with all the strength I had left. He rewarded me with a gruff cry, speeding up his thrusts as he neared his orgasm.
“Fuck… oh, fuck, Son… daddy’s gonna… ARGH!”
He buried himself into me, crashing into me with such force that it knocked the breath out of me. His arms were still wrapped around me, and I imagined this was what it felt like to be crushed by a python. Then I felt his dick throb, and the familiar feeling of warm wetness as he spilled his seed in my guts.
I sighed, my whole body relaxing. I felt like a melting puddle, every care and worry draining out of my body. I was a receptacle meant to be filled, and my father’s cock was the missing piece. He jerked and shuddered on top of me as the last of his jizz dribbled out of him, joining his previous two loads inside my colon.
Finally, just when I thought I might pass out from lack of oxygen, he released me from his grip and rolled off of me, his cock popping out with the sound of a wet “plop!” He lay against the floor, breathing heavily as his eyes glazed over.
Poor man. He was in his early fifties, and he’d had three loads milked out of him in the span of only a few hours. But what can I say? I had needs, and he had a cock. There was nothing else for it.
I cuddled against him for a minute, rubbing his sweaty, hairy belly, sliding my fingers through his pubic hair, planting little kisses on his chest. He leaned down and kissed me softly. I opened my mouth to let his tongue in, and soon he had pulled me on top of him until our sweaty bodies were pressed together once more.
We lay like that for what seemed like hours, kissing and cradling each other. His fingers grazed my skin so gently, tracing the curves of my waist and the cleft of my cheeks. His scruff rubbed my face nearly raw with kisses. His thick, probing tongue was wet in my mouth. His strong arms wrapped around me, holding me close. Like I was the most precious thing in the world to him.
My hands rested on his chest, my favorite part of his body. I’m not one of those gays who are obsessed with manliness, but there was something so intoxicating about my father’s masculinity. His strength, his virility, the gruffness of his kisses, the harsh way he grunted when he spilled his seed. It all made me swoon.
I don’t know when we fell back asleep. One minute I was weightless in my father’s arms, his tongue sliding against mine, and the next I was blinking as the sun shone through the gap in the tent flap.
I was alone in the tent. My dad was probably just at the shower pavilion or something, but I couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety at having him gone.
I wasn’t ready for the outside world yet.
I stretched in the sleeping bag, enjoying the feeling of my muscles loosening and relaxing. I rolled onto my tummy, reaching for my phone to check the time.
It was early. No one could fault me for sleeping in a little longer.
I had just set my phone down and rested my head against my arms when my father slipped in through the tent flap.
“Morning,” he said, zipping the flap shut behind him. He was shirtless, his belly hanging out over a loose pair of tighty whities. His balls hung low, making my mouth water.
I smiled up at him, wiggling my toes. “For a second there, I thought you’d run out on me.”
He laughed, patting his bulge. “Just draining the ol’ snake.” He reached into his bag and started pulling out clothes.
“Do you have to get up?” I reached out and rubbed his leg, looking up at him with bottom eyes. “Can’t you cuddle me a little longer?”
He glanced down at my body, the top half of my ass uncovered by the sleeping bag. Even after having his balls drained all night, he was practically drooling.
“We really should get up,” he said, his eyes not leaving my ass. “We don’t wanna miss breakfast.”
I grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to me. “But I want cuddles…”
He gave me a sly grin, conceding.
“All right. Scoot over.”
I rolled onto my side, making room in the sleeping bag. He slid in behind me, his body radiating warmth. I sighed as I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me in close again. I felt so happy, more than I think I’d ever felt in my life.
He kissed my shoulder, then my neck. I was putty in his hands. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in my ear.
I rubbed my ass against him, enjoying the feeling of his manhood poking my hole through the fabric of his underwear. God, I was insatiable. I needed him again.
He kept his face in the crook of my neck, planting sweet kisses on my skin and breathing in my scent. I could feel him slowly rubbing his bulge up and down my crack, and I knew I had him.
Without saying a word, I reached back and slid my hand into his briefs, wrapping my fingers around his cock. I gave it a squeeze, eliciting another groan. I pulled it out of his briefs and lined it up with my poor, thrice-violated hole.
This time, Dad didn’t protest. He just obeyed, sliding into me until we were joined together once more.
He fucked me like that, both of us lying on our sides, his arms pinning me to his chest. I let him take control, let him use my body however he wanted. His thrusts were sharp and deep, his body acting on autopilot. I put one hand on his and the other on my dick, tugging it in time with his thrusts. The sounds of his lovemaking were wet and sloppy. His previous loads sloshed around his cock as he penetrated me.
“Daddy…”
The word came out as an almost silent whisper. I hadn’t called him Daddy since I was a little boy, yet the word had passed my lips over a dozen times that night.
I let out a whine as I began to spurt, my cock dribbling cum out onto the floor of the tent. Dad reached his hand out to catch my spray, letting it pool in his palm. He never slowed his thrusts as he raised his palm to his mouth and swallowed my seed in one big gulp. It was so fucking hot, watching him hungrily suck his fingers to get the last bits of my cum.
“You taste like candy, baby,” he growled into my ear.
I still couldn’t believe this was real. His breath, hot on my cheek. Lips brushing my skin. His cock, so deep it felt like a part of me. He squeezed me tighter, his breathing growing ragged as he neared his orgasm.
I didn’t know I could feel this good. Before I knew it, I was crying. Tears spilled out of me as I held my father’s hand and received his gift. His body shuddered against mine, his sweaty forehead pressed against my back as he eked out more of his essence into me.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.”
We lay there a little while longer, joined together, neither of us willing to move.
Then, out of nowhere, the sound of the tent rattling caused him to slip out of me.
“Hey! Leo, Mr. Wyte–you gotta hurry, the race is starting!”
It was Elijah’s voice, I think. Thank fucking God he didn’t try to come in, but we were already scrambling to put our clothes on anyway.
“What is he talking about?” I asked, pulling on Dad’s boxer shorts.
“There’s a three-legged race after breakfast,” Dad said, sliding on a pair of jeans. “I didn’t realize it was already this late.”
I threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top and opened the tent flap. The sun was nearly blinding, and for a moment, I didn’t want to walk outside.
“Come on,” said Dad, stepping past me. He reached out his hand to me.
I hesitated. I didn’t know what would happen once we left the tent. If it would all fall apart, or become real.
I looked up at him to see him smiling.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
We got there just in time. Dads and sons were already tying themselves together, crowded around a white line spray-painted on the grass. The father-son three-legged race took place in the main clearing. I could see a bright red ribbon tied between two trees at the far edge of the woods.
“All right, Daddys and Boys,” boomed Dicky, who was sitting on his father’s shoulders like a toddler. “If you’re joining us for the race, go ahead and line up!”
Dad grabbed a rope from one of the buckets by the starting line and began tying us together. I stood there and watched him go, admiring the quick work of his fingers. Soon, we were joined together and lined up beside the other fathers and sons. I could see Elijah and his dad at the other end of the line, waving at us. I smiled and waved back.
“And, here we go,” said Dicky. “On go… Ready… Set… Go!”
The line of men moved at once, jostling forward like a cavalry of amputees. I nearly fell over right at the start, but Dad caught me by the shoulder and held me upright.
“At the same time,” he said, holding me steady. “Ready?”
I nodded. We took one step forward, then another. Other dads were bumping into each other, a few of them tumbling to the ground and tripping the other pairs. Dad and I carefully walked around the mess, counting out our steps in unison.
“We got this, son,” Dad said, his arm wrapped around my shoulder.
“Uh, Dad?”
“Don’t worry, you’re doing fine–”
“It’s not that,” I said, lowering my voice. “It’s just… your cum is leaking out of me.”
He glanced down at the trail of sticky fluid running down my leg, his face burning. “Let’s just get to the finish line and we’ll worry about it later!”
We kept moving forward, coming neck and neck with the other frontrunners as we left the slow ones behind. I tried to ignore the growing trickle of cum leaking out of my exhausted, gaped asshole and pooling into my sock. I clenched my battered butthole as tightly as I could, determined to press forward.
The finish line grew closer and closer, and soon it was just us versus Elijah and his dad. The two men were slick with sweat. Elijah’s dad stared forward, focused on the goal, but Elijah turned and flashed me a cheeky grin.
I smiled back, then turned to Dad and said, “Listen to me. On three, we jump!”
“One…Two…Three!”
Just before we reached the finish line, we threw ourselves forward, our bodies crashing through the ribbon. We landed in a tumble on the grass, a mess of sweat and crashing limbs. Dad’s heft pinned me to the ground, not dissimilar to the previous night’s events.
Elijah and his Dad pulled up a second later, bending over and breathing heavily from exhaustion.
“Good… game,” said Elijah’s father, offering me a hand up.
We got back to our feet just in time to see Ricky and Dicky running up to us, their meaty tits bouncing in unison.
“We-he-hell, congratulations!” said Ricky, slapping a hand on my father’s shoulder.
Dicky slapped me on the ass. “You really blew us away!”
He grinned at me, then glanced down at his hand and my shorts. “Oh wow, your shorts are all wet. You must have landed on something in the grass, huh?”
My cheeks burned as I tried to cover the wet spot on the back of my shorts.
After he’d untied us, Dad pulled me in for a hug. “I’m so proud of you,” he said, pulling me into his chest.
I closed my eyes and let him hold me, not caring how juvenile I might look. I felt so high, so loved, that nothing could bring me down.
He kissed me on the cheek. “We have to tell your mother about this,” he said, grinning.
I felt my body go weak. Everything I had kept at bay came crashing down at full force. The tent had been a no-future zone, and now that we were back in the real world, nothing was keeping us from the consequences of our actions.
Dad must have felt me tense, because he pulled away and looked at me, his brow furrowed in concern.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice shaky. “We do.”
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