Dad and his Jock

Jackson Blythe walked through the door dragging his football gear. It was a fucked-up football practice today; it was hot and sticky and miserable which made the whole afternoon suck. But tough work outs also made the kid horny as hell. He needed a release.

He dropped his gear at the foot of the stairs and made his way into the kitchen and parked himself in front of an open refrigerator. What he really wanted was one of his dad’s beers, but he didn’t want to push it, so he settled for a bottle of Gatorade. He could hear his dad in his home office, clicking away on his computer. He heard the keys stop and after a brief pause, he heard footsteps down the hall coming towards the kitchen. Jackson smirked, took a wide stance as he lifted up the bottle, chugging it. He flexed his muscles in his arms and legs, making his muscles pop and his ass dimple. He was putting on a show.

Carson Blythe heard noise coming from the kitchen. He was working from home today and lost track of time. The fact that Jackson was home meant it was well after five o’clock. The kid would be hungry, and he hadn’t even thought about dinner. He knew the beefy football player would be cranky because it was fucking hot outside and he hated to practice in 90 degrees heat with out-of-control humidity.

He came around the corner and saw his son standing in front of the open refrigerator door. He stopped in his tracks and his jaw dropped. His son was chugging down a bottle of Gatorade, holding the bottle high while he drank. His tight, sleeveless UA t-shirt crept up revealing a solid six-pack. His bicep flexed as he held the bottle high. Carson watched the boy’s powerful ass flex in the tight, spandex football pants. His dark hair soaked with sweat was plastered to his forehead. He looked like hell but at the same time, he looked like walking sex. Even at his worst, the boy still looked hot. Carson loved being seen in public with his hunky son. The heads turned; girls, boy, men and women to get a second look at the gorgeous athlete. It made him feel proud that his jock son was the object of everyone’s sexual daydreams.

He thought: God, how can that kid look just as hot all dirty and sweaty as he does normally. Those football pants… thank God for spandex. That big horny fucker is teasing me. 

Carson cleared his throat and entered the kitchen. “Jackson, close the fridge,” he told the boy who had a habit of leaving the refrigerator door open while he stared inside.

“I’m hot,” Jackson mumbled between drinks.

Trust me, I know. Carson thought.

“Jackson, close the door. You don’t have to drink it standing there with the door open.”

Jackson didn’t say anything and obeyed. He just shut the door and stepped over to the granite island and leaned on it with one arm while he finished the drink. He flexed the tricep he was leaning on and smirked again but on the inside, keeping his face like stone on the outside.

Carson couldn’t keep his eyes off his son’s tricep as it flexed under the weight of his son’s 190-pound muscular frame.

He scolded himself: Jesus, Carson, try to control yourself this time. He’s toying with you. 

Then Carson’s phone chimed, and he read the long work text and sighed. It seemed like he worked around the clock. His thumbs started flying over the tiny keyboard as he wrote his text back.

Jackson stood quietly as he normally did. He was the quiet type and painfully shy, not really into showing much emotion. It was a shame he was so shy because he was easily the best-looking guy in school and could probably have any girl or boy that he wanted. He was low-key and laid back. He came off as brooding and mysterious which made the girls want him even more. He wasn’t a “people person” so standing back and observing was just fine with him.

Right now, he was discreetly cruising his dad. He made a point to flex his triceps, making the horseshoe pop. He tried to not ogle his dad, but he was so horned up. God, dad’s so fucking hot. Such a fucking stud. He noticed I’m wearing his favorite football pants. 

Since his dad was working from home, he wasn’t wearing one of his normal custom-tailored suits that fit him like a glove which always made Jackson’s dick stiff. His dad looked so authoritative, so alpha in his power suits, his dad reminded him of his coaches at school who were gruff and domineering. Jackson got off on their power. But even today when his dad dressed in a form-fitting t-shirt and a pair of snug faded Levi’s, it was just as good. His dad was built so well, genetically gifted with muscular quads and a full ass that filled his jeans. He liked to show off his arms and chest, so he wore t-shirts that displayed his hard body. He watched his dad’s corded forearms flex as he texted. The brow on the man’s handsome face was furrowed as he concentrated on the ongoing text conversation. Jackson was so glad he looked like his dad, that meant he would be just as attractive when he gets older like his dad was. Unlike other dads, his dad was way hotter than he should be. While most of his friend’s dads where overweight and bald, his dad worked out and kept himself in top condition. Carson was an avid runner and Crossfitter. When Jackson wasn’t playing football, he would go to CrossFit with his dad everyday. It was so cool having a dad who had six-pack abs. Jackson got off on going out in public with his dad and seeing heads turn when his dad walked by. As much as Jackson hated attention, he loved it when he was with his dad.

Jackson was tired but he was so horny like any other 18-year-old senior in high school. He watched his dad frown and swear at his phone. Jackson just kept thinking what a handsome fucker he was. He felt his own dick stiffening in his spandex pants, his jock stretching with it. He set the bottle down on the counter and pretended to check his Instagram on his phone.

Jackson caught himself thinking: I have to stop staring, could do it all day. I don’t care if it gets awkward, I fucking want him so bad. This is fucked up, but I can’t help it. 

“Fuck. Fucking morons,” Carson said frustrated as he set his phone down on the island.

Jackson looked up and then back down at his phone. God, he thought the man was so hot when he was upset. His square jaw would clench, sometimes he would growl in his deep voice.

“Hungry?” Carson asked.

Jackson thought: Fuck yeah, I’m hungry. For your cock.

Jackson continued to look down but nodded his head to which Carson was used to. His son, the tall, dark and handsome teenager filled with angst. He thought it was sexy.

“Want me to steam up some veggies and chicken?” Carson asked as he stepped around the island to where Jackson was texting. His eyes traveling up and down his son’s ripped torso.

Jackson nodded his head again. “Sure.” He casually flexed his arms as he scrolled, knowing his dad was looking.

Carson glanced down and caught a glimpse of his son’s beefy ass and his own dick twitched. There’s that gorgeous ass I love so much.

Jackson casually looked at his dad out of the corner of his eye and then flashed back to his phone. He pressed himself up against the stone, pushing his stiffening cock on it, gently humping it.

They were both quiet as they stood next to each other. Jackson inched closer to Carson, wanting to touch him.

“Tough practice?” Carson asked as he leaned back against the island, their elbows lightly touching.

Jackson shrugged, “Fucking hot and humid,” he mumbled, still humping himself against the island. Carson laughed inside at the boy’s unwillingness to speak in more detail. It was what made the boy so desirable, the aloof, strong silent type who oozed athletic masculinity.

“That’s ok, makes you stronger, better player. Gives those muscles a real work out,” Carson said as he reached up and cupped Jackson’s bicep and squeezed. Jackson flinched slightly at the touch but didn’t make any effort to protest. “Damn, Jacks, you’re a beast. You’re fucking arms just keep getting bigger.”

Jackson smiled slightly, reveling in the validation he received from his father. He slowly tightened his bicep and flexed it. His dad’s hand continued to massage it.

That’s right, flex that arm, muscle boy. Carson wanted to say out loud but didn’t want to spook the boy.

Jackson awkwardly reached over and patted his dad’s bicep, soft at first and then a little firmer. “Like yours,” he said quietly as he closed his hand around the baseball sized bicep and squeezed.

“Like father, like son,” Carson said softly as his hand moved up to his son’s hard, round shoulder. He squeezed the shoulder cap, and he noticed his son press himself up against the counter again it. His hand traveled to the back of the boy’s thick bull neck, and he squeezed and massaged it. It was an alpha move if there ever was one. The first time he tried it with his son, the kid visibly shivered. Carson often wondered how his boy became a submissive. Maybe he was too intense with Jackson, expecting perfection. The kid always delivered. He definitely never thought the athlete was into cock.

They both continued the foreplay in silence, Jackson stroking his dad’s arm, Carson massaging heavy pressure into his son’s neck. Carson was the first to break it. Each one waiting for the other to make the first move.

“You look good,” Carson told him as he stepped around behind Jackson, putting both hands on his son’s shoulders and started to massage. “But you know that.”

Jackson cleared his throat and loosened up his shoulders, his head fell forward, chin to chest and he closed his eyes and enjoyed the strong hands. Hell yeah, I know I look good. I may be shy, but I know how to work with what I got. 

“I was this big when I was your age, working out always made me fucking horny,” Carson whispered the last part into Jackson’s ear. He moved his crotch closer until his dick was pressed up against his son’s ass. The spandex was so thin, and it molded so tightly to the incredible ass. Jackson let loose a tiny whimper. Carson felt his son push his ass back.

Jackson trembled: Fuck I love his cock.

Carson wrapped his muscular arms around Jackson’s shoulders and clasped his hands over his son’s chest and pulled him back against him. He kissed the boy on the side of his neck which made Jackson tilt his head to the side to allow his dad more access to his thick neck. Carson could taste the salt from the boy’s sweat.

“You’re wearing my favorite football pants,” Carson stated between kisses, He knew that Jackson wore those especially for him. “You wore them for me.” Jackson brought his hands up and clasped them to his dad’s forearms that were around his chest. “You know what that does to me,” Carson growled. Jackson took a deep breath, turned his head and met his father in a soft kiss. Another kiss that was not as soft and then a full fledged make out session. Jackson slowly turned himself around, his ass up against the island, his hard cock pressed up against his fathers. They embraced and went back to their aggressive kissing.

Jackson felt his dad’s hard body, tight muscles, ran his fingers through his thick hair. This was the only time that Jackson showed passion for anyone or anything that didn’t have to do with sports.

Carson reached around and took two handfuls of round, muscle-boy ass. It made his son growl into his mouth and kicked the teen into overdrive.

“Fuck,” the boy gasped between two kisses. He reached down and found the outline of his dad’s cock and stroked it tightly. “So hot.”

“Boy,” Carson panted at the feel of his cock being massaged. “You have to tell me what you want.”

Jackson looked at him square in the eyes and said, “Cock.”

“My big jock son’s a cocksucker.” Carson stated with an intense stare. “Aren’t you?”

Jackson nodded his head quickly.

“Use your fucking words, Jackson,” his dad commanded.

“Yes, I’m a fucking cocksucker,” Jackson replied quietly in his shy but masculine way.

Carson kissed him again then took the kid’s face in his hands. “You know this is really fucked up?” he said before burying his face in the crook of Jackson’s neck, planting wet kisses all over. “This is so fucked up,” he mumbled.

“I don’t care. I want you to fuck me again,” Jackson murmured.

Carson stopped kissing his neck and put his mouth to Jackson’s ear. He licked the boy’s ear and smiled as he hissed, “Big, tough, football faggot wants his pussy clogged with cock?”

The boy flinched when he heard the word “pussy”. He would have hit anyone else that called him a pussy let alone refer to his hole as one. But coming from his stud dad, the fuck talk made Jackson tremble as a sharp jolt of electricity shot up his spine. Carson knew it made the kid go crazy, so he laid it on thick.

Jackson had his eye’s closed, and his cock hurt in the tight confines of his football pants. Fucking hot when he talks like that to me. I AM a fucking pussy to want to get fucked by a dude. But I don’t care, my hole is a pussy for dad. 

Jackson moaned, “Uh huh,” he whispered. His dad liked it when Jackson succumbed to his submissive slutty nature,” He pleaded quietly. “I fucking need it.”

Carson scoffed and sneered, “Listen to yourself. Big jock begging for cock up his ass. Closet fag horny for his dad’s cock? That’s fucked up.”

Jackson was ashamed of his unnatural feelings, and he especially didn’t like having gay thoughts. Even though his dad was degrading him, it made his cock hard as iron. He knew it was part of the foreplay and his dad didn’t really think of him that way but it sure was hot. He knew it got his dad off being able to say things like this to such a masculine, athletic specimen as himself. He’d love for his coach to talk to him that way.

Jackson swallowed hard, “Yes Sir. Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, boy. You’re a football god. Best player around. You could go pro. You WILL go pro, even if I have to make you put out for every college and NFL recruiter who wants a ride on your thick muscle ass. You’re a fucking father’s dream come true, even if you are a cum-sucking fag.”

Carson was going for the full degradation play. He knew Jackson knew he was just laying it on thick. He did it because his tall, masculine, muscular son was actually a submissive and the kid loved it.

“Aren’t you ashamed when you think about your coach or your buddies naked. Picturing them mounting you and fucking you like a bitch?”

“Yes, Sir. It’s fucked up. No one knows and I fucking hate it.”

“I know you’re a bitch and that’s all that matters.”

“I’m a bitch. I love you, dad.”

“I know, Jackson. I love you too.” Carson slid his hand down the back of his son’s spandex pants, his finger finding his tight hole and pressing against it. “Love that sweet football pussy.”

Jackson whimpered, “Yeah, football pussy,” Jackson whispered in his deep voice. “You made this pussy.”

“Let’s go.” Carson took Jackson’s hand, clasped their fingers and led him upstairs to the master.

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