My incest fantasy comes true

I'm older now. In my middle age. I have not followed through on any of my fantasies or gay urges until today. I post a lot. I put photos on my posts too. Some of are of me. Some ore of what I'd like to do. Pretty normal for a wanna be sex slave. I added some incest drawings I'd found on the internet last week. I a hairy muscular daddy type fucking his bound and gagged son like a pig. 

"Take that you little slut!" Daddy says.

"Oh my God! Help!" Mumbles the poor helpless son through a tight mouth gag.

A guy emails me using that post as a headline. He wants my picture and some more info about me. I'm nervous and pretty sure he will disappear when he finds out I'm not a young buck, but an older, inexperienced daddy type myself. But he doesn't. He tells me about himself and what he wants to do with a slut like me. Naughty talk. I like it. He is 60 and been fucking gay men for about 20 years. he has been divorced from women several times, like I have. He says he had tried to find a woman who would allow him to use bondage and discipline many times. He hasn't been so lucky. But he has found men who will submit. He says he likes fucking men even more that women now. he says he prefers guys to women exclusively now. He says he wants me to be his next 'victim'. And if I'm a good little slut, I many get to be his 'victim' many more times.

Some how I found the one guy in a hundred miles who wants to be the man I've always dreamed of. Or, did he find me?

"Be carful what you wish for, son." Was his next tag line. I got hard right away. 

Today I'm very nervous. I've only met up with other guys a few times. They have not been good times either. I was pretty much going to give up. Then this happened. I've shared my preferences and what I expect. He seems to be respectful and thoughtful of what I want. We meet in an hour at a local coffee shop. He looks just like his profile says and photo. We don't drink any coffee. He takes me out to his truck and we get in. He has not said anything yet. He just motions for me to get up and follow him. The doors close like prison doors, loud and solid slam, slam. I look at him. He is thinking. I just about pee my pants I'm so nervous. It takes a long time before he finally speaks.

"Put your hand in my crotch, son." I look at him, then down in between his legs. I reach over with my right hand and cup it around the bulge in his pants. His hand slips up over my shoulder and on to the back of my head. His other hand holds mine in his crotch. 

"Look at me, son." I look up. He kisses me right on the lips. I've never kissed another man before. 

"So far, so good." Turn around and put your hands behind your back."

Surprised, I obey. I thought I'd be sucking him off right there. I hear some tape rip off the roll and feel the sticky stuff wrapping around my wrists, binding them together. 

"You're going to be a good son, aren't you?"

I nod. 

The feeling of the bindings, the uncomfortable conversation and the knowledge of what I'd told him I wanted suddenly fall over me like a wave. What the fuck am I doing? I look over my shoulder at him. He is smiling. He pulls at the tape and wraps it a few more times around my wrists. 

"That will hold you."

We drive out of town, into the treed hills. He finds a dirt road. We follow it for a mile. Finally in a heavy grove of thick trees he pulls into a turn out and stops. He lists himself up off the seat pulling his jeans and shorts down. His cock is fat and nearly fully erect already. 

"Now it the time, son."

His hand on the back of my head again, his cock sliding in and out of my mouth, he throat fucks me until I am choking and gagging on his big cock and the biggest load of cum I've ever experienced. He holds my head down and tells me to finish him properly, cleaning up all the sticky cum, or there will be hell to pay. With no hands to help me, that took a while. Licking and sucking all the cum from his lap was a bit of chore. He held me there, rubbing my back and sliding a hand over my ass, as I clean up the mess we have made. 

"You ARE a good boy. Now we can go home and finish this properly. I'm glad you obeyed me. I'd hate to punish you for being a bitch."

Before we dive off to his farm house where I'm fucked for hours and hours, he tapes over my wet, cum drooling mouth.

"You won't need that mouth again for a while. So you can just shut the fuck up, from now on."

The drive to the house was scary. I wasn't sure what I was in for. I did have some sort of a clue, of course. But he made me wear kid's football uniform. There was shoulder pads, a jersey, jock strap and football pants. He dressed me then called me a faggot. Like he had caught me sucking a buddy's cock. He tied me down and gagged me, using white athletic tape like you'd find in a locker room, then fucked me like I was a high school boy being disciplined my his angry daddy. 

I'll finish my story when I get home tomorrow. I'm still wondering what else he has in mind for me.

Billy