Forker of Fathers

Why yes it is, dear Anon. This post will act as my pinned for any information about my blog! #dadforkerwriting is my main writing tag if you want to see more of what I write

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You can normally request writing prompts, general questions about what I'm into or just ideas you find hot!

"So bro...my girl hasn't been giving me any head lately...are you listening?"

You just nod dumbly and salivate- a mock of the imagery you imagined of him bucking his hips against your mouth while your mind unspools into a lax, empty mess.

there'll always be sibling squabbles as brothers, though it's usually resolved amongst yourselves and i think that chemistry born from having to communicate and understand one another adds that interesting layer of intrigue, not solely because you're just related, but because you also know the worst parts of each other and still maintain a precedent that you can experiment if no one else is available because you'll be there for one another

it's kind of similar to using a family member's used fleshlight, or helping out your brother or dad with a load if he's divorced or has been broken up. you do it as a gesture of comfort because they know you, almost to an intimate degree, and small things like this allow you to fool around without the idea having to be made from a direct spoken gesture of, "hey, do you want to fool around?"

having a motive that allows you to act without feeling as though you're confessing is safer in that kind of situation because there's a mutual idea, a thing you both want that can be put in the way of reason which allows you to ignore the severity of the incest, and that what you're doing isn't normal.

Obviously it isn't, but you settle. You see the situation as just a one time thing, or a rarity at most, and because of it not being normal, it's enjoyed all the more between you the wronger it is and the more you love each other.

though if you were to act from feelings without a reason in the way, perhaps someone just has a huge overwhelming crush on their brother and they want to fool around sexually oh so bad, then the sensitivity of the question is subject to your own relationship. Do you usually have deep talks with him? Do you understand each other well, or are you more distant? Is he even gay?

That distance can be used as a landmine, and by distance, I mean how close you are to each other perhaps emotionally, physically, or even sexually.

to either be weary of it's existence and not wanting to cause a conflict between you but still wanting that connection is longing. You know you want it, perhaps his own feelings are unclear, or there's something preventing you from being with one another.

or perhaps you've already stepped on the landmine, and now that you're caught in the midst of it, you can't say what you truly want to or you'll be the one to cause that boom. You're already fooling around, but some kind of slip up- perhaps revealing that hooking up like this is more emotionally impactful for you might just ruin things between you, or cause an upset in your relationship that would change things forever.

There are so many factors to consider when making these situations that i think bring the over all appeal to incest in general. There're a lot of modifiers that set different tones very easily, and from them you can make a variety of stories and scenes.

Just picture receiving a stained, suspicious envelope from your dad and him standing there, sweating with a soft yet nervous grin before quietly sitting at the other end of the table to quietly watch you with clasped hands. He doesn’t make any jokes alongside the crappy cards he usually gets you for these kinds of holidays, which fills the air with a weird tone you're not used to.

When you rip open the envelope and take out the cute little card, you naturally smile at how ironic the red glittery heart looks on the front. He must’ve reused an old valentines card or something. 

Then you open it. 

Your eyes then widen at the messy paragraphs, a smudged scrawl of words that scatter across the page, circling the cute little message of Happy Valentine’s day printed in the centre with hearts, all written with a definite and throbbing boner in his hand.

It may go something like this;

- - - - - - - - - -

“I love you son and I hope you have a good Valentine's Day, you mean so much to me and I am proud of the man you have become. I missed talking to you and being with you, cuddling together and chatting about anything on your mind. I want to know everything that’s been going on in your life. I love you and that cute butt of yours haha, you definitely got it from your mother. I think about how it would stretch open on me sometimes…and well, actually all the time and those beautiful sounds you would make if I got my hands on you. You’re so fucking handsome to me and I’m sorry I haven’t made that clearer. I’m getting hard writing this, I love you baby, you don’t know what you mean to me, you’re all I need to cum honestly and that scares me. I’m nervous writing this but fuck I can’t stop moving my hand. Just imagining those lips wrapped around me, goddamn fuck i love you i love you so much i could drain my balls in you and i’d want you to love it, i’ve been told i cum too much so we can use condoms, but i’d love to eat it out of you if you’d let me. i imagine you would struggle because i’m a big guy, but i would let you get used to it. i’d love to just be inside you. i don’t know if i could be patient though haha you’re so cute fuck. ♥ Happy Valentine's Day! ♥ i have so much backed up, less than i wanted while writing this and realizing how crazy you make me, god i’ve already came under the table its all wet and my hands are sticky i need to wash up after. you’re gonna read this and open it and know what a gross dad i am but i want you to know nothing has to change. god i want it to, but i love you and i want you to love me and be comfortable around me but this is already so much that i’m getting hard again and sad and my heart’s beating wondering what you’ll say or if you’ll leave. Are you going to lick my cum off your fingers when you’re done reading this? Will you throw this card away and never talk to me? Are you wondering what I would do to you if you say no? Daddy wants you so bad but I would never force you. Never. Even If I love to imagine taking advantage and holding you close to me, I care about you so much I would wait for you as long as it takes. I want you so bad that I would take care of you if you ever get aroused and need it, no questions asked. I’ll make you cum and make it all go away, but it doesn’t have to mean anything. I will always love you. You don’t need to say anything back if you aren’t comfortable, son. I love you. Happy Valentine's Day.” - From Dad 

- - - - - - - - - -

The pen ink is smudged, and his words are barely legible through the haze of cum stains and his pressed palm in an attempt to write without holding down the paper using his other hand.

You stare for a while, not just at the words, but the card, its meaning and how this changes things for the both of you. If you'd happen to look up when you're finished, the expression on your face would be answer enough for your dad.

His hands unclasp and squeeze the table when he rises to slowly walk over and put an arm around your shoulder. He lowers himself to your level, and speaks gently, tone warm and fatherly like it should be. "That was a lot. Wasn't it?"

Your head bobs softly, and you realize you're nodding.

"Yeah...was a lot for me too. You're a real ballbuster when you wanna be. Had me worried."

You hear the smile in his voice and he pulls you in just a tad closer to his bulk.

"Normally I'd say sorry for just...springing this on ya, but...well, once I saw you staring like that, I got the impression you appreciated my thoughts."

His pants unzip.

have him storm into my room while i'm on the computer and be lifted onto his lap and filled with dick so fast my brain is already melting around the girth bulging in my stomach before I know what's going on.

he's the kind of dad who likes to say, "Knock one bitch up and you'll have another to use for the rest of your life if you raise em right."

ya get so hooked and cockdrunk on him that cuddles on the couch don't feel the same without the scrape of his crotch reassuring you that he'll find your hole no matter what.

the visceral need to have dad playfully yank your tail upwards and rub into that hole a pair of two meaty fingers. he keeps drawing them out to suck and tongue at it for a more slimy entrance

I'm talking foul-mouthed, insult spitting old men with gravelly voices and a shake in their bones that belies just how much pent up energy has gone to waste posturing about how much hate they have to give, and how little of it comes from a place of true hostility. Most of the time, they just wanna complain so they'll have someone to argue with- and once they get into it, you realize all they want is some goddamn company.

If said old man is lucky, he'll get pinned and have his old throat swabbed with a fat, hot dick so he can't choke on the empty threat of his own words anymore. He'll just have to savour the the salty glide of a shaft reshaping his old tonsils, passing by the roof of his sloppy old mouth as his tongue works feverishly the moment he realizes he's got a cock to suck, or rather, some real meat to fill the empty ache left in his soul.

You'll hear a startled gulking sound, maybe mistake it for vapid choking as he pulls back- only for him to seat his nose deep in your crotch with a jerk of that old head, groaning at the warm and filling finality of a dick finally stuffed down his yapper. He'll work that mouth, slurping all over as if a sleeper agent, his life's mission to finally relax that throat and give some head- no thoughts needed. He's not very good at first. Honestly, you might be surprised he didn't pull of to file a complaint first before taking you back into his mouth. Instead he's too busy working the ins and outs of how best to keep this shaft of yours throbbing in his mouth, and how to keep working up the sweet tang of pre drizzling down the back of his throat. It must be better medicine than any behind the counter stuff he's used to, as he hums greedily, the warm buzz of his throat drowned out by the wet slurping of his lips 'round your knob. The cloying spread of your own musk, the taste of skin and the push and pull of heat in his mouth has him so very aware of himself that it's embarrassing- hell, his knees hurt, his neck aches, and he'll probably need a bourbon after this, but he's never felt so fulfilled and useful, even if he's gotta admit it's because he's a cocksucker at heart. It feels filthy too, yet no filthier than decades of tobacco built up in his system from dragging one too many smokes. If you'd ask him why his voice sounds so fucked up, he'd normally fix you with a glare, tell ya to go fuck yourself as he'd light up a fat cigar, yet now he's no more eager to be lit up himself.

He's just about always asking if I want a hit of pot every time I see him at family gatherings and giving me those little conspiratorial grins even before we began hanging out together.

He usually comes over while dad's at work to take me on daring escapades in his pickup. "Yer old man ain't here? Great! Hop in 'fore he gets to knowin I kidnapped ya."

The stuffy drives always lead us to a visit with some new "friend" of his, or a hookup he's gotten to meet through cruising.

He's never once told me to stay in the truck. Often, he invites me out to come watch, learn a thing or two.

One time he caught me with a glance back, and he'd grin appreciatively with a nod back to the guy he was fucking like, 'Hey, check this out, bud!' all proud of himself, before getting lost back in the rhythm.

I had to force a stiff nod before taking the short walk back to the truck parked under the shade, asphalt covered in cigarette butts and some weird smell that had my nose twitching.

His grunts, sweat dripping down his hairy crack, balls slapping loud and proud against some guy's ass with a hand on his hip were hard to ignore, echoing down the trail loud enough for the trees to hear.

I can almost imagine that maybe that's how it'd sound if he ever tried having his way with me- to bend me over somewhere, just the two of us. No one would know how hard he'd be smacking into me and breeding my hole...though I think I know him better than that, than to fantasize about him as some stud.

My uncle's a people pleaser, the way he'll groan all rough and ragged like some porn star, muttering out little attaboy's and fuuck yeah bud's, it all just seems like comments in passing to get through a load- to tell the other he's enjoying their hole compared to the way he shows me genuine interest. He'll nudge me with his arm, voice pitched with excitement, pointing out little things on our drives and lean in on me.

Then he'll stick around after to grab a beer from downstairs when we've got the time to, opening up about his childhood with my dad. I've heard things I never thought he'd get up to since they're so different.

I think he really likes me.

It makes me glad I get to watch him fuck all the time, even if I don't get exactly what I want out of it since it feels so...personal, seeing that side of him.

More than just the "weird, irresponsible druggy," which is just about half our family's backhanded criticisms of him.

Today, he seems really into it. It's one of the few times I've gotten so close without him noticing, from the scuff of my shoes or a stray branch.

From the sound of his voice at this distance, with how far down he's got him bent, he seems real occupied with asserting himself all up in that guy's hole.

I figure...he won't mind if I grab his shirt hanging off a nearby branch...just, to give it a few whiffs and put it back before he notices.

It's damper than I'd of thought when I reach for it, more ripe with sweat plastered to his front like when he stretches once we get out of the car, a quick show of his hairy pits, swingin an arm around my shoulder and whispering close that he'll be gettin to work and not even slightly aware of how bad I wish he'd take me into his arms for something else.

The scent is way stronger than a bit of hotboxing could muster on a drive when he doesn't care to roll the windows down, insisting the AC will start up anytime soon...it's like I'm sniffing him up close for real, burning deep- burying my nose in him and that manly chest of his, letting loose any and all worries.

Not all tense-like, habits of mine that make him ask if I'm all good on the way back- if I'm sure I wanna keep comin out to these with him at all before he's changing the topic when I shrug, insisting it's all fine.

Probably a bad habit I got from my dad with how much uncle compares the two of us.

"Well I guess it's like a learnin experience, yeah? Could jump in any time ya want, kid. Don't gotta just stick around and watch my ass when I'm balls deep in some stranger, ya know," He'd chuckle with a slap to my back, a real vision of modesty.

The times he's made eye contact are one's I've always been bound to jerk off to the thought of.

Really looking at me, connecting some dots in his head that might just be getting him a thrust or two closer to emptying the tank at the thought of me.

Like when he squeezes them hard, gritting his teeth when he turns back from getting a sight of me.

The thought of it being me instead. His nephew. His gay nephew.

I finally raise the shirt back down, his scent lasting on my tongue from how deep I breathed him in, having me feeling stupid like I'd just woken up from a visit to the PACU.

One look at me now and he's bound to quit having me over, will think it's been weird I pay so much attention to him on top of sniffing his stuff. I mean, that one's pretty hard to deny when he could think I've just been interested in getting a chance with one of those guys he fucks.

Though...he's the one always taking me out. Holding my gaze, offering a spot for me when this could very well be his own experience.

Clenching his worn shirt in my hands, I breathe softly. Maybe he does want me to look, and wouldn't I regret not having the chance to see if something could come about from it?

He's always making a real scene of himself, showing off with those obvious sounds...is it cause I'm here? Trying to seem more manly for me...has he...always been trying to impress me?

The rhythm of his thrusts jitters, and I take notice of the fact he's got the other guy bent over, his own neck craning over to take a look back at me through the treeline and I freeze.

I can't stop the thrill that flares through me the moment I get his attention on me though.

My hand starts to lower and with it, his jaw slowly drops, brows rising to the cant of his irregular rhythm with his eyes on me, still ongoing when I take a bold face full of his shirt, my other hand inching down beneath the firm grasp of my waistband.

I didn't end up having time to finish.

By the time I realized he'd came, he was already pulling up his pants and walking back towards the truck with me in tow, barely able to look over his shoulder- though from his wide gait I could tell he was in a hurry to sit back and think about what the fuck just happened.

My door closes.

He's not exactly gloating, nor does he seem that keen on the whole talking about what he saw thing. Of what we might've had in that moment that I must've just dreamt up.

We can't exactly go anywhere, though my heart racing in dread keeps the air around me frozen for some time, folding his shirt in my lap into a roll, staring ahead like he does with eyes wandering across the stains on his windshield.

"So," He breaks the still with a single word, gnawing on his lip, worrying over rehearsed words- a joke to blow it all over, but it doesn't come.

He just inhales deeply and sighs.

"S'my fault. Kept pressurin ya into comin on these things with me...eh...it's pretty stupid. Shoulda known you woulda...well...I guess I thought for a while you might...uh, yknow," His hand beckons the words to fruition, but he hisses when he can't find them.

With a soft slap to his thighs, he holds them as he stretches back into his seat and looks up with a sigh.

"I shoulda known is all. Yer...impressionable. Settin an example on you, hell...been makin ya watch me have sex and then what, ya don't get curious? Fuuck me...er. Poor choice of words. But, ya get me."

It's kind of bizarre, I realize. Does taking accountability mean you're supposed to admit you're hot enough to seduce your nephew?

I mean here the man is, shirtless, post-sex sweat fuming through his weed-smell ridden car while he actually tries to say something sincere.

Fumbling over his words, though not a hint of accusation. Fuck I love him.

"Uncle?"

His eyes hold a ball of guilt in em, as much as they do that little flick of hope when he lifts his chin to look over.

"I guess...I just wish you taught me. Rather than...well," I shrug, "show me. I really don't regret coming, though. Like at all"

"Ya don't?"

He shakes his head with a twist of his open mouth and sputters hard for a second. "Wait-teach ya?! I uh...kid I don't...hell."

I manage an anxious laugh at that, the way he looks around all confused. He can't help a worried smile creeping up on his face too at the sound of my amusement. "It really is your fault for showing off though." I try to kid, but he nods along with a slump in his shoulders.

"Darn, what the heck...I got ya pretty messed up huh? Riling you up like this, so uh- what, have you been gettin off after I drop you off or somethin?"

"Haha, umm...sometimes?"

He huffs in amusement and leans in a bit closer, like he finally feels comfortable enough again to get up in my space like when we usually talk. It reminds me of when he's showing me something stupid or trying to sneak a noogie in with eyes searching.

"More than a few times then, ey? Always getting a good view'a me...ya like lookin at my ass then? Heh, who'da thought!"

"Well-" Sparks of coal start tumbling all around in my belly, and I feel myself heating up the more he leans in, all teasing. "N-not...well, yeah! But..."

He strokes his scruffy chin, looking my face up and down real close and I've never felt as naked as I have now. That same stupid look of his that he'll hold me with from a distance always has someone else attached to him, but now?

God he's still really shirtless.

He notices that I notice, which is probably the worst case scenario when our eyes meet again.

"Yer holdin onto my shirt pretty tight there...don't wanna give it back?"

Oh. I'd been white knuckling it, staring with flushed red cheeks at the expanse of his fuzzy, sweat-slick front and how he has me remembering that stunt I pulled earlier.

"Uh...I mean...you didn't seem to......want it back."

"Awww but I do!" He croons, canines showing with a despicable grin.

"Though since yer bein a good boy, ahhh I'll letcha hold onto it...can sniff it whenever ya damn please, yeah?"

I tense a flustered closed lip purse, eyes widening as I clutch the bundle of his weird gross shirt to my chest. Despite his words, it almost feels like he's trying to wave it all off, letting me settle with just...this. Jerk off material.

My ears are burning red, neck flushed but I don't want it to end here,

"Maybe I will.

But I mean you're right here, so...."

His grin slackens a fair bit and his brows furrow in confusion.

"You do know what you're getting into, dont'cha?" He scratches the back of his head and fuck, flashes me with his pit? Now?

"Listen kid, I saw the way you were feeling yerself up all buried in my shirt back there...and gotta admit, it helped me along, s'pecially noticing yer hand down there...

And-and believe you me! I get it...I was young and eager once myself, but...do you reeaallly wanna do...that with me? I'm yer uncle."

My tongue rolls around in my mouth pressing to the roof, thighs clenching to the obvious tone of him trying to convince even himself as I look back down, but...he's not arguing or even saying no.

He's backed himself into a corner here really, but I feel a lot more like the one about to be jumped from the way my heart's near flipping in my chest in excitement.

A chance doesn't come like this so often to guys like me.

"...Alright."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You uh...heh, really should have thought about all that before showing off for me of all people...I'm impressionable, yeah?"

It's spewed finally with nervous excitement and a light head. Thinking about what he said, the raise of his voice each time I heard him grunt low while fucking, how he thinks of me...how he'd actually...do it with me...the admission I helped him along accidentally.

I gulp before continuing, feeling my heart steady. "So yeah. I jerk off. Your...big, sexy, hairy body. All...mature and thick...I've always kinda thought you were handsome and stuff but, I didn't wanna feel weird about it so! I just...I dunno, I tried not to think about it too much."

He's listening closely with patient breaths and the sound of shifting in his seat.

"Then you start coming over. Taking me out for joyrides to random places to get frisky with hookups? Say I can come out of the truck, stretch my legs...join in." I hesitate then fix him with a look that has his eyes widen a little and it gets me excited.

He licks his dry lips and I speak again.

"Wonder how many times it got you off knowing I could be watching. Did it help you out?" The question leaves my lips eagerly.

He gulps, probably feeling aware of himself now that he doesn't have his shirt on- hand rubbing over his thigh through denim again and...I catch the start of a lump in his crotch beginning to rise. If I was breathing any faster he'd be sure to hear my breath hitch.

"Yeah...it did." He admits.

My pulse starts to grow lower, sinking between my legs and up my spine like the arid start of a storm that has me at attention and I can't keep my eyes off him.

It's hard to relax when I can feel the tail-end of his hot breath drifting around the car, his musk starting to circulate from the workout he'd gotten earlier.

My shirt hugs my chest, the humidity's gotten to me bad before I realized it. My balls too are sticking between my legs in a way that makes me need to spread them a fair bit before closing back, slow enough I can tell he gets a glimpse.

My dick went down earlier from how anxious I felt, but now? "Ya seem excited." He notes, and I nod along, letting myself slowly spread my legs in deliberation with a slow breath to give him a full look this time.

It's not so much a gaze of surprise at the size as it is something of awe- maybe his first time getting such a full obvious view of of his nephew? I wonder if he realizes what he does to me.

I've definitely checked him out more than a few times that he's had to have caught on, though I think he might just feel I was curious about his older body like any younger guy might be.

Can't lie that I've even given my dad some looks when I've caught him shirtless around the house, but uncle's a lot more rugged than him- more thick around the middle and unshaven too.

The soft of his beer gut paunch is surrounded by thickets of hair that trail up into a more coarse variety of wispy greys in the middle of his chest that go further up, rising with his stilled breaths.

A scattered few climb his shoulders, his furry chest tilting down as he leans in, bulge packed into his tight jeans that I wish I could get a better view of- suddenly out of sight when he leans in real close, thick arms in the way, hovering over my crotch above the console of his truck.

"Mind if I help you out?" His voice rasps.

I slacken and nod dumbly, feeling placated by a soft rub down my leg.

It feels weirdly attractive having him tug my pants loose with his own hands. I'm all the more aware of the strain in them and of how much I've been leaking even since earlier which has me suddenly embarrassed by how turned on I am- how I've been, but it's gotten me this far.

Once I raise my hips to have him pull them down, all that's left is the obvious tent I'm pitching and stale, summer car air kissing my knees.

"Well damn..."

By the hum of his approval and the grin in his voice, I'm left aching and throbbing. "This all for me to mess with, boy? Shit. Been a while since I've got to play with another man's dick."

A thick finger of his lightly dabs at the wet spot on my undies, sampling a string that collects onto the surface, running it against his thumb. I feel mesmerized.

He applies more pressure, running it over the head in a circle and he holds me still with a soft rub to my covered bulge there- palm brisk on my lower stomach.

"Got the juices running...always a good sign..." He licks his lips and his hot breath picks up, getting closer to my crotch. He gives the surface a soft whiff with his nose, collecting the bundle of my bulge up with a squeeze towards the end like he's trying to extract more scent outta me.

I've got no room to feel self conscious when he's brushing his nose and the scruff of his beard over, inhaling deeply and letting out little satisfied exhales, letting go and simply breathing it in. "Been a reeaal long time...ya know? Cause...a hole feels damn good but, but they always wanna leave it at just that. Ain't no fun when yer spent, ah s'pose"

He mutters against my crotch and a groan weakly leaves my lips...didn't know how bad I wanna fuck his face til now. All that was on my mind was his scent, strong even now while it's mouthing at me, his man wrecking cock straining in his pants for me just about to burst out, and that big body of his moving against me, slamming me full of his seed- just the thought makes my hole throb, yet here he is, practically drooling over my twitching cock...poor old man's been having to top for so long he hasn't had the chance to do anything else.

I reach out petting his head, pushing my crotch up to meet his lips and he sucks on the tip through the thin fabric. It's sweet hearing his vocal rumbling, goes all the way down my shaft and up my chest in a thrill that whispers to me.

Gotta have him, gotta fuck that mouth.

I let him have his moment, struggling to just let him drag his tongue around the tip through my underwear, but pat the back of his head which takes a moment until he eases off, licking at his lips again.

"Relax big guy...here ya go."

I finally, shakily tug my underwear down- cock thwapping against my stomach. As soon as I'm free he leans back in and latches onto the head, tongue sweeping it into his drooling maw.

My eyes roll back and I melt into my seat, gripping hard on either side of me. He keeps moving it around in his hot mouth, coating every inch with slimy wet tongue muscle before seating it in fully.

"Mmnnf.." He takes his time, lips and tongue both working slow at first as if sampling- loud wet slurps that are immediately muted when he gulps the whole thing back down, beard brushing against my lower end when he's pulling off to tongue under my sensitive head and lick my shaft for beads of precum that've escaped in runny spools.

His moustache is wet with slobber, bristles catch every now and then in a pleasurable sensation, his hairy chin bumping into my balls voraciously.

I grind up into him with impatient thrusts that he takes graciously, slurping and teasing, surrounding my shaft against his lips one moment to pull out with little suckles surrounding the tip the next, tonguing at my slit.

Makes me wonder why he's a top when he sucks cock so fucking well.

By the time I can't take anymore, I can feel him huff a little amusedly on my crotch through his nose, but he's gotten his fill, tongue wrapped around my throbbing cock deep in his gullet, lips vacuumed tight around me.

I take a hold of his head haphazardly and buck gently to test the smooth glide in, bumping against the roof of his mouth, tongue aiding in the lower half smoooothly entering further down his throat.

Back out, and a couple more inches in.

I pant hard, building up a rapport with his soft throat in the midst of getting used to the rhythm while his nose keeps bumping against my crotch, little puffs of air escaping intermittently.

He gags when I go too far in, but he doesn't let me pull out in concern, instead following the drag of my hips back down to keep himself buried there, his throat wrapped around me, constricting deliciously in irregular pulses around me that have me moaning out for him in approval.

Spittle careens down my shaft in sloppy waves followed by the glide of his mouth, tongue collecting it back up in quick gulps and I can feel my hole twitching- he wants to swallow my load, and it comes quick enough just like that in a spur of hot, welcoming flashes.

Spots dapple over my vision as he holds still around me, tongue dragging over my sensitive head to allow the first spurts of cum to collect and hit the back of his throat. A groan leaves me heavy, body sagging in my seat as he drinks from me greedily, lips wrapped gently around my head, kissing my slit.

I didn't realize I was panting and moaning so much, lost in the moment, though I immediately sigh as his lips finally leave me with one last wet pop.

We both breathe for a moment as he leans back in his seat, adjusting himself. I have to take in the fact, I just got the best fucking head in the world from my uncle. I hear him clear his throat, wiping at his mouth with his arm. "Fuck." He says a bit rasped, and I nod dazedly, repeating the word to share my sentiment. "Mind if I...?" My brow raises, I don't know what's going on, but he smooths over the back of my hand in a small pat and takes his shirt back for a second. I watch him wipe the cum and spit off with it and drop it bunched, on top of my softening dick in a used heap. I chuckle.

"Well." He clears his throat again and sniffs, looking over at me with a soft but amused grin. "I think I'm purdy rusty but uh...ya seemed to just love it huh?" I nod again. I don't even have the words, "Just...blanked out."

He lets out a one note hum like a laugh and pats my bare thigh. "Well it won't be your last time. I think." He shrugs and rubs over my leg. "I don't exactly know if you wanna...continue doing all this...up to you, but uh...it's refreshing to do different shit with ya."

I really take a second to look over at him and smile. "I'd like that. A lot. I've always wanted to like...get involved but I didn't really have the balls to uh...ya know. With anyone else there."

I feel his hand land on my cheek and he brushes me gently. "Well that's cool with me. Can save on gas if it's just pickin you up." I roll my eyes but sigh at the thought...having him all to myself would be nice, and he seems to catch onto the look.

"We can stop anytime ya want, kay? Though from now on if you ever feel in the mood to mess around...well, ya have my number. I'll come kidnap ya and we can shoot the shit and just mess around."

The drive back was quieter than usual. With our minds bustling, I think we both had a lot to think about. The ghost of his warmth on me, How I'd wish for more of his hands on me, God his mouth too, but most of all I wonder how different our relationship would be from now on. He dropped me off like normal, came inside for a drink. We both sat on the couch and I could feel myself beginning to relax as what overtook me was only more of the same comfort I'd usually feel with him around, yet more rich.

Nearly intoxicating.

His face would work little niceties into my hair that he'd whisper, "We'll have lotsa lost time to make up for."

The afternoon would drag on, and I'd miss his thick arm around me, his weight sinking onto the couch so far that I'd lean into him- my complaint light, though my shifting onto his lap would only tell him I mean the opposite.

He'd finally smile and tell me by the door with a lasting kiss that he'll come bother me some more tomorrow, we'll figure some more things out too, and then his truck would rumble off down the driveway and I'd still be looking out the window where it was once parked.