#bottom dad

We looked at each other for another long moment, and then he stepped in closer. Reached down and gently, but decisively laid his hand over the hard jut of my cock in my boxers. Gave it that familiar, careful, loving squeeze he always had. I had a nice cock, a cock just like his, long and pleasantly thick, a shade under seven inches. Even cut nearly identically to his. It thrilled to his familiar, long-missed touch. Miranda and I had an excellent sex life - not so much since the twins were born, but that was natural. I loved to pleasure her, make her cum, then slowly fuck my own load into her tight, welcoming wetness. But me and Dad, shit, the electricity between us was on a whole different level. A different energy. Deeper. Satisfied us both, in ways nobody else could.

I let Dad slowly rub my superhard cock, making my boxers all moist in front, reaching over to run my hand up and down his other arm, over the strong, corded muscles of it as it propped on the countertop while his other worked on me. We smiled at each other, and like on some silent signal, both leaned in to kiss, slow and soft, our lips smacking quietly in the dark kitchen. He’d taught me how to do this properly, and I’d been a damn good student. Even though it had been maybe a year since we’d last tangled like this, it felt like we’d never paused. Felt right. Felt natural.

His tongue tasted like turkey seasoning and pumpkin and cinnamon, and as the kiss quietly deepened, I reached around him, grabbed his still high, tight and hard ass, and pulled him into me. His identical cockbulge slid up against mine, making us both quietly grunt into each other’s mouths. We thrust slowly, quietly together as we made out, eventually coming up for air with big smiles.

“My boy,” he said quietly, almost wistfully. “A man, now. A dad in your own right. Hell of a thing.”

“Guess I am,” I nodded. “A man like you. A dad like you, I hope. The best.”

He ducked his head, smiling, never good with compliments, but I could tell he was pleased. Leaned up and pressed his lips to mine.

“Gonna make a hell of a dad, son. Hell, you already are. Enjoy it. it’s an amazing thing. Even when you were being a pain in my ass, I still loved every minute of it. Still do.”

It was a capital-M Moment, real powerful, both of us smiling and wistful, maybe a little moist-eyed. Masculine, and intimate too. The best kind of bond between a father and son. The kind we’d enjoyed for many years now. Maybe one day, me and my boys would be similar. We’d see. For now, this moment, me and my Dad, was perfect.

Dad’s hand moved back between us, found the fly of my shorts, and slipped inside. I let out a soft moan as he found my cock and slipped round it in that familiar, but thrilling way. Slid up and down as he watched me with a smile.

“Reckon I could use a little feeding myself, buddy,” he said, low and husky.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded. “You up for that? Another late-night feed, son?”

“Like I fed my boys, huh Dad?”

“But better, son. Like a Dad does.”

Fuck, talk about a Moment. This was intense, what was building up between us. Even more than usual. I nodded, and watched Dad sink to his knees, onto the soft mat on the floor, shifting his eyes down from mine, down the hair on my trim torso, to the jutting shape of my cock in my shorts. Leaning in to kiss the thicker trail of fur on my stomach - getting a little softer there myself, with my routines all shot to hell with two newborns at home, but manageable still - and working his way lower, into the denser growth of it on my lower abdomen. His hands came up, hooked the waistband of my boxers, and he growled low in his throat as they fell to my feet and my cock sprang free, the head shiny with precum already. A leaker, just like him.

I let out my own low growl as Dad took my cock in his fist, his breath hot all along the length of it, then slowly lapped at the tip, scooping up my bubbling pre. Sank my fingers into his full, thick, silvery-streaked hair as he engulfed my cock with his mouth, lips and tongue working the head, and then slowly, steadily swallowed me down. Like we’d never stopped this. Like a year of life hadn’t gotten in the way of our special bond. Like the first time he sucked me, when I was a horny, lanky teenager, burning up with the same needs and drives he’d recognized in himself at he same age.

“Fuck yessss, Dad,” I murmured quietly as his sloppy, wet sucking sounds echoed softly upwards. His hands explored the hard, defined muscles of my thighs, up to the deep dimples of my ass, flexing and tightening as I started to slowly fuck his willing, experienced mouth.

He grunted almost happily as my hands took hold of the sides of his handsome head and my hips took over. We fell into the old, familiar rhythm, working together as I fucked the length of my younger cock into his mouth, as he sucked and slurped and swallowed and Worked his throat slowly open. Fuck… literally nobody had ever been able to deep-throat me like Dad could, and when he wriggled his head and buried his nose in my bush, the muscles of his throat squeezing along the length of my cock in a loving embrace, the bristly hairs of his goatee tickling my balls, I forgot all about being a young married father, with a job and responsibilities. I let myself fall back into the old fantasy, imagining me and Dad doing this the rest of our lives. Father and son, sucking and fucking and kissing and bonding, deep, like men. Together. Made for this, and each other.

The thing was, it felt different now, even more powerful. Not just because of the year since we’d last done any of this, but because I was a dad now too. I wondered, when he was my age, feeding me in the tiny hours of the night, holding me in his arms, if he’d ever imagined us doing this. I wondered if he felt the intense, masculine power of his fatherhood, the first time I got down on my knees and suckled the cock he’d created me with. I felt more than a little of that now, my fatherhood and my manhood twinned and feeding off each other, strengthening each other as my cock throbbed and my balls roiled, as my cum built up inside of my fertile young father’s balls.

“Big, fertile young Daddy cock for you, Dad,” I murmured straight out of my subconscious, surprising myself. He grunted and looked up at me, eyes shiny and alive, and sucked harder.

“Cock I made my sons with, Dad,” I went on, voice all deep and husky, sounding more and more like him. Talking dirty, like he’d naturally started doing once we’d fooled around a few times, once we knew the sexual bond we had was A Thing between us. Like he’d taught me how to do, expressing my deepest, lustiest, manliest thoughts and desires, coaxing them out of me like his mouth and ass coaxed the young cum out of my cock.

“Feeding you like a Daddy should, Dad,” I half-moaned, and he moaned back, low and deep and long, buzzing all through the hard, throbbing, tingling tube of my cock and deep into my churning nuts.

“Made two boys already with this cock… with this cum, Dad,” I grunted. “Gonna make more, maybe. Fucking potent, fertile, son-making dadcum.”

He moaned again, hungry, eyes locked on mine as I stared lustily, lovingly, hungrily down at him.

“Gonna give you my cum, Dad,” I panted. “Thick, son-making dadcum. Straight from my dad balls. You like that, Dad? Young Daddy cum for you. For my boy. For my boys…”

That did me in, that and the doubletime Dad did on me, his eyes streaming with the effort, his goatee wet with overflowing spit as he devoured my throbbing cock and the hungry, horny, taboo stream of fucktalk from my mouth. I felt my muscles flex and tighten all over, going up on the balls of my feet, my head dropping back, mouth hanging open in a soundless yell. I’d learned how to be quiet when I came, from all those furtive, late-night visits he’d paid to my teenage bedroom. I could be a moaner, a shouter too. But I knew when, and how, to cum near-silently, and I did it now, my cock firing off, shot after shot of pent-up cum down Dad’s hungry, suckling throat. It had been days since Miranda and I had had any time to play, and Dad was reaping the benefits of my backed-up young dad balls, bigtime.

I watched Dad back up off my cock a little, letting the head spurt the last few shots across his tongue as it caressed the underside. He nursed on it as the last of my load dribbled out, knowing from plenty of experience just when to back off, when I got too sensitive. He grinned as he leaned back, letting my big, spent dick hang free, handsome as hell. I reached down for him, pulling him up to me, his lips already parting to meet mine as I slipped him my tongue, searching for the remnants of my load, all mixed up in his spit. The ultimate leftovers, I guess, and just as delicious as everything else, as we grunted and swapped them back and forth, just like we’d always loved to do.

“Fucking sweet,” he murmured, as we grinned at each other. “Jesus christ, kid. That was intense. Being a dad agrees with you, big guy.”

“I guess it does,” I chuckled, a little amazed myself at how my subconscious had just taken over and poured all that taboo nasty talk out. But I liked it. It was interesting. I wanted to see what else it could spurt out of my mouth. And what Dad would say in return.

I reached down for the epic tent in Dad’s boxers, slipping my hand into his fly to feel him, feel the cock he’d made me with, his big daddy cock and the heavy balls suspended below it. He kissed me again, lazily swapping tongues with me as I teased his sonmaking length, then took hold of my wrist after a couple of minutes and gently, but firmly extracted my hand.

“Not tonight, son,” he said, reluctant but firm. “The girls are hitting the sales in the morning. We’ll feed the twins, put them down… and then we’ll feed each other. Take our time with it. Just like we used to.”

Mom had always assumed we didn’t like going shopping on Black Friday because we were men. Sort of, I guess… but more because it gave us the chance to take our time together, really put the screws to each other, so to speak. Long and slow and deep and verbal. Father and son. Only now, we were father and father too.

“Give you your first taste of fucking as a daddy, bud,” he grinned. I growled at the very idea and kissed him, deep and quick and hard. “Show you what it’s like to fuck your boy… Dad.”

My cock tingled all along its length, down into my balls, into my gut. Holy shit. I’d never even thought about that. Fucking Dad… and switching the roles up. Hearing him call me ‘Dad’, for the first time… fuck. If I thought about that too much more, I’d be hard all over again, in seconds. Dad saw my cock bob, already starting to grow again, and chuckled. Gave me a wink that told me he knew exactly how I was feeling. Of course he did - we were a lot alike. And even more now, now that we were both dads.

Fuck yeah. I was definitely feeling like a man now, once and for all. Even better than that - feeling like a Dad.

It had been a minute since we’d last had the chance, but his lips on mine were immediately familiar to me, the warmth and softness of them as they moved against mine, as mine parted eagerly to greet his thick, wet tongue with my own. Damn but it was awesome to make out with him like this - I mean, it was always awesome, ever since the first time, but even more awesome to do it up here, out in the open, all on our own. Just like our first time. I was a better kisser than I had been then, and I showed him, loving the way he grunted with pleasure as our lips and tongues smacked together, and our hands began to explore the sun-warmed skin stretched over our muscles. For his part, the work of his tongue and lips on mine had me roaring hard. He was an incredible kisser, my gold-standard for it - and a lot of other things. I pushed the hard steel of my cockbulge up against him, finding him just as solid for me, and he grunted deeper into my mouth.

“Been awhile since this old tent saw any action,” he said, tugging my ballcap off and tossing it inside the tent. “‘Bout time we fixed that, what do you say?”

“I say this is gonna be the best Spring Break ever,” I grinned, stepping inside and taking his hand to tug him in behind me.

By the time Dad had zipped the door closed, my shorts were off, and I loved the way his eyes widened at the sight of me, fully boned in my boxer briefs and ready for him.

“God damn, you’re beautiful,” he growled, pulling me back into him for another long, deep, hungry kiss that I returned eagerly. I took his hand and guided it down to the throb of my cockbulge, and he made that hungry, animal noise again as he palmed it slowly, feeding me his tongue in slow, deep strokes whiel I hunched my young bone against the warmth of his palm and tugged at the button on his shorts.

“So are you, big guy,” I panted as I got him free of them, shoving them down his chunky-muscled thighs. Just like I knew he would be, he had on a pair of tighty-whiteys, and one hell of a hard cock in them. I took hold of his bulge and gave it a slow, squeezing stroke, making him grunt and growl and pull my mouth back to his for another round of hungry making out.

We dropped to our knees together, not breaking the kiss as we explored each other’s mouths hungrily, our hands finding their way to each other’s asses and squeezing the thick muscles we found. The air in the tent was already starting to get a little warm and close, and that just made it hotter, as we started to sweat a little again. The sounds of our kissing and grunting got even more intense in the enclosed space. I could have done this for days with him and been perfectly happy, but then Dad’s big hand dipped inside my underwear and got a good feel of my hard cock.

“Fuck yeah,” he growled. “There’s my big boy. Got you all worked up, huh buddy?”

“You know you do, Dad,” I groaned as he manhandled my ass with one hand and my cock with the other. I thrust my hardon up against his sweaty palm, let him really get a feel of what he was doing to me. “Always have, you hot fuckin’ stud. Always got your boy hard for you.”

Dad growled at that and kissed me hard and deep, peeling my underwear down as I tugged at his. I shuffled around so he could get mine down the big muscles of my thighs, and then his big, strong hands were dancing over my naked flesh as we sucked hard on each other’s tongues, as I pushed my hand inside his shorts and wrapped it around the thickness of his big, throbbing cock.

“Got you all hard too, huh Dad?” I panted as I got a solid grip on his piece and stroked on it. “Fuckin’ boned for your own son, you big stud.”

“Sexy fucker,” he chuckled before feeding me his tongue again, taking hold of my shoulders and pushing me back on top of the sleeping bag. I fell back with a grunt and a chuckle, and then a low moan as wrapped his paw around my cock, ducked his head down and licked my cockhead.

For such a big, gruff, straight-seeming dude, Dad could suck one hell of a cock, and the way he worked his lips and tongue as he slowly swallowed me to the root made my eyes roll back in my head. The whole time he worked his lips and tongue up and down my shaft, his hands were exploring the muscles of my thighs, my stomach, my chest, squeezing and stroking me all over, appreciating all the hard work I’d been putting in. All I could do was keep a hold of his handsome head, while I let myself get lost in his masterful sucking.

“Ah, god, stop,” I hissed when I felt my balls starting to tighten up. I pulled his mouth off my cock and curled up to kiss him, the both of us grunting as we lashed our tongues together. I could taste myself in his mouth, and it made me even hungrier for him.

“Damn, was looking forward to getting a first taste of your cum, bud,” he said with a grin as I took my turn to push him onto his back.

“We got plenty of time for all the loads we want,” I said, pushing his strong thighs apart and leaning in to smell him, the manly, sweaty, musky scent of him. I locked eyes with him as I took his big cock in one hand and slowly licked my way from his balls to his tip, making him groan and shiver a little.

“But I’ve been looking forward to tasting you for months, Dad,” I said, then winked at him, opened wide, and started to swallow him.

Ever since we’d first started messing around, I’d been practicing my skills. I was pretty good at it, and proud of myself for how I’d gotten better and better since my first clumsy attempts at sucking my best bud off. Once me and Dad had connected like this, I’d focused on getting better for him, no matter who it was I was actually sucking. He got to reap the rewards, and I was even prouder now that I could swallow my way down to the base of his cock, until my nose was buried in his musky bush and his salty, manly taste was filling my mouth. I closed my eyes and just savored him for a minute, feeling him throb in the wet warmth of my mouth and throat, until I could feel myself getting to the point where I was going to need to breathe or pass out. Then I came up off him, a fresh wave of manly, musky flavor filling my mouth as my tongue set to work on him.

“Aw buddy,“ Dad moaned, his hand rubbing the back of my head, watching me with half-lidded eyes as I showed him the best of my skills. I slurped, licked, sucked, swallowed, and hummed my way up and down his thickness, worshipping him, paying my respects to the big cock he’d created me with, and then shared with me. I ran my hands over the powerful muscles of his thighs as I worked up and down on him, my mouth rich with his deep tastes, getting fuller and fuller as my spit mixed with his precum and coated my mouth and his cock.

“Getting close, son,” Dad growled. “Slow down, unless you wanna…”

I grunted around his flesh, bobbed my head up and down with even more effort, and then I decided to show him the thing that had pulled a good dozen loads out of a couple of good buds this past semester. I pushed my tongue out of my mouth to caress the underside of his shaft, swallowed him down to the root, and then ran my tongue back and forth over the tight, cum-churning bulge of his big, sweaty balls. We locked eyes, and when I started to hum, Dad got that telltale faraway look on his gruffly handsome face, his mouth hanging open as his rapid breaths turned into moans. His muscles started to tense up all over, and when I reached down deep into the fork of his thighs, rubbed my fingers along the sweaty, hairy stretch of his taint, then stroked my fingertip over the hot clutch of his hole, he grunted loud, locked up tight all over, and fed his thick, hot cum to me.

Dad shot and shot and shot, thick, creamy spurts of his seed flowing over my tongue and filling my mouth as I pulled my head up a little to savor the tastes and sensations of his potent load. When he finally stopped spurting, I kept nursing on his cockhead until he shivered all over with the sensitivity of it. His mouth was already open, panting, ready to meet mine as I slid up his solid, muscular body to kiss him, his tongue eagerly seeking his own seed from my tongue as I flowed it to him.

“Jesus christ, you just get better and better, bud,” Dad panted with a half-disbelieving grin. “I’m gonna have to step up my game, son.”

“You don’t have to do a damn thing, Dad,” I grinned, kissing him slower and sweeter. We fell into that for a couple of slow, sweet minutes before he pulled back, fixed his eyes on mien and slowly ruffled my short hair.

“Not true, bud,” he said, reaching down between us to wrap his hand around the throbbing thickness of my cock. My balls were still fat and heavy with my unshot load. I wasn’t a teenager anymore, and I’d been working on my stamina, my endurance, on fucking like a man. Working on making my orgasm even more intense by really building to it. But damn, I was so ready to cum right now. Dad always brought that out in me.

“There’s something I can do… want to do, son,” he said, giving my cock a long slow stroke as he wrapped his thighs around my torso. He pushed my cock down a little, and I felt the tight, furry, sweaty warmth of his hole, almost kissing the tip of my cock. My eyes went wide. It wasn’t the first time, or even the tenth, but every time he invited me to do this, I felt a kind of awe and disbelief.

But I slipped my arms around him, looked my father in the eye, man to man, and I pushed inside of him without another word. Showing him the man he’d made me to be. Showed him how much I’d missed his, and missed this between us. How much better this was than getting drunk and sunburned and blueballed down at Daytona Beach.

Dad was as tight as ever as I sank into him, my cock as big as his now, big and thick, and I took care to make sure I was making him feel good. I wanted to show him the proper respect for letting me do this, for the absolute masculinity of opening himself to another man’s cock - to his own son’s cock. We didn’t talk about our adventures with others very much, and I got the idea he didn’t do this for anyone but me anymore, so it was only right to give him my very best, and treat him like a man deserved to be treated. To treat him like he’d been treating me since I was 17, and learning how it felt to be a man with another man. To fuck my father right.

But then again, you know how it is when you’re young and horny and your balls are churning with an unspent load. We had days up here, just him and me, to do as we pleased. To please each other as we liked. I’d been jonesing for this for weeks - months, really - and I’d been on a slow boil ever since I got into his truck this morning. I knew he’d been feeling the same, and once I’d fucked my way up inside of him and felt his body shift and relax and welcome me, he gripped the bulge of my triceps and nodded.

“Go ahead, buddy,” he murmured, eyes locking on mine. “Show your old man what you got, son.”

“Yessir,” I said, and bent in to feed him my tongue as I set to work, and I let my body just go with it. I fucked Dad deep, long, slow probes followed by hard, fast thrusts, fucking my own father the way I knew he liked to be fucked. Fucking him like the man I was, and the man he was too. The sounds of our grunts and moans, flesh slapping against flesh, echoed in the musky confines of our tent, swirling around us as the sweat streaked our working bodies and our tongues danced in each other’s spit.

“Fuck me, buddy,” he moaned. “Breed your Dad, stud.”

God, I really wanted to hold out, to make it last, but how the fuck could I, with his insides so tight and hot, with the husky murmur of his words, with the way his hands slipped down my sweaty back and squeezed the thrusting, flexing muscles of my ass? I couldn’t.

“There’s my man,” Dad almost crooned. “My big guy. Cum for me, son. Show me.”

“Aw Dad,” I moaned. “I fuckin’ love you…”

“I love you too, buddy,” he murmured against my lips. “So c’mon, show me…”

I grunted, fixed my gaze hard on his, and let myself go. We didn’t have to stifle our noises, our fuck sounds - we were out here all alone, embracing our nature. So I grunted, moaned, then shouted as I flooded my father with my cum, my thick young seed filling his insides as I pumped and pumped it out into his depths. Dad nodded and squeezed my muscles, keeping his eyes on mine as he murmured encouragement through my orgasm, until I was all done, my muscles twitching as I struggled to keep myself propped up on my hands over him. He wrapped his arms around me and gently pulled me down, grunting a little at my weight on him, but kissing me slow and deep.

We kissed for awhile as we came down from the high together, until my cock reluctantly softened and slipped out of him. The sleeping bag was streaked with our sweat as we lay there on our sides, slow kissing and enjoying the glow, hands roaming over each other’s sweat-slicked muscles.

“Damn, if that’s you taking the edge off…” Dad chuckled.

“Hell of a start to Spring Break, that’s for sure,” I grinned.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather be in Florida, with your boys?” he asked a few minutes later, popping the cap off a beer and handing it to me as we stood by the tree and took a leak together, naked in the breeze and the sun. “And the girls?” he went on, with a sly wink.

“Fuck no,” I said immediately. “This is already 110% better. Even if I did want to try to get with a girl, I’d still be trying to chase one down right now. And if I did get to fuck her, well… I’d just be thinking about fucking you anyway, Dad.”

“Damn, bud,” Dad growled, and pulled me in to kiss, sloppy and deep and long, his big hand trailing down over the muscles of my ass.

“I’d be thinking about you fucking me too, Dad,” I murmured when we came up for air, reaching over to stroke the sticky, rubbery length of his cock, feeling it starting to rise all over again. “This is your Spring Break too. You deserve to get laid, and I aim to make it happen, big guy.”

“Hell, I never got to fuck a hot young dude like you back in my Spring Break days,” Dad chuckled.

“No time like the present,” I grinned. “Why don’t we fix that, Dad?”

Dad clinked his beer bottle against mine and winked.

“Here’s to Spring Break,” he said, then pulled me to him for a deep, slow, noisy kiss. “Let’s get this party rolling, son.”

“Fuck yeah, big guy,” I grinned, and let him steer me back into the tent again.

We got to the top of the stairs, and I deposited his things inside the door of his bedroom. We both stood there for a moment, looking at the room - the queen bed up against the wall under the windows, a Cardinals poster over his desk, his high school baseball trophies ranked along the bookshelf. His mother had a couple of kids with her husband, so he didn’t have a room over there - this was his space. So I was surprised when he turned around, bag in hand, and headed across the hall to the master bedroom - my room.

“Uh…” I said as he walked in and set his bag down at the foot of my bed.

He stepped over to me where I stood in the doorway, that mix of humor, respect and confidence in his expression that I’d really started to notice on him these past few years. A man coming into his own, a fine young man slipping firm arms back around my waist as I kind of gaped at him.

“I figured this is how you wanted it to be, Dad,” he said, that smile of his filling out as he squeezed his arms around me, looking at me levelly, but respectfully. Like the man he was now. “I mean, after summer, and all…”

He didn’t need to say any more than that. I’m sure he knew exactly what I was thinking, the hot rush of images flooding through the front of my head. All the sweat and heat of summer, before he’d gone back to school - the glow of sweat on his fine-honed young muscles, the way my bedsheets pooled around the muscular trimness of his hips and ass as he gazed down at me and thrust his hard young cock up inside my tingling ass. The taste of his tongue, thick and wet and assured as it danced slowly with mine. How my cum splashed hot across the hair and skin of my stomach as my boy fucked my load out of me, before plowing his own into my depths.

“I’m home now, Dad,” he said, his eyes deep and brown and locked on mine as he squeezed me again, drawing me subtly closer. Deeper into his warm young embrace. “Came home to be with you. Be your man.”

I opened my mouth, not sure what I was going to say, just that something needed to be said - I was his father, after all. The man of the house. Only, looked like there were two men of the house, now. I hadn’t really thought about it that way, and I sure didn’t have time now, as he leaned in close again and kissed me.

I’d never gone in for that whole alpha-male thing - I figured real men didn’t need to obsess over labels and identity like that. I’d always been a pretty take-charge, in-control kind of guy - my father had been a quietly confident and competent kind of guy, and I’d done my best to be like him. It had made me a good soldier and a pretty good boss now that I was a civilian. Looked like Damon was taking after me like I’d taken after my father, too, quietly asserting himself as he snaked his strong young arms around me and kissed me like the lover he’d fast become since high school. Whatever I’d been thinking of saying to him, at the confident way he’d set his stuff down at the foot of my bed, claiming his space in here alongside me, it was gone now. Gone in the slow, skilled thrust and dance of his tongue on mine, in the way his strong ballplayer’s hands slid down my back to cup the muscles of my ass and gently squeeze, in the heavy, insistent throb of his big young cock against mine.

I couldn’t help but think again of last summer, all the time we’d spent getting each other hard and naked, all the taboo intensity of our lusty, incestuous coupling. It wasn’t our first summer together like that - we’d had a few summers together exploring the new intensity of our dad-son dynamic by that point. But it had been our first summer of him fucking me. Damon enjoyed being fucked, and I sure loved fucking his sexy jock ass, but as mutual as we were with everything else we did to each other, it had somehow never crossed my mind that he’d want to fuck me. Maybe it was because I hadn’t taken a dick like that since I was in the service, I don’t know. But when he’d pressed his nearly naked body up the length of mine on the couch last May, looked me deep in the eyes, and asked if he could fuck me, I found myself saying yes before I even knew it.

We fucked all summer, and it felt like a whole new chapter of our taboo bond, a new level of father-son lust to be explored. He still liked to be fucked, there was no way to fake his enthusiasm when I worked my big Dad dick up his tail, but god damn if he didn’t treat a man’s ass like a natural-born top. It had been kind of uncomfortable at first, but the way my son used his tongue and fingers, and then his cock, had me consistently fountaining cum up the length of my torso, my toes curling, clutching the bulging mass of his big young biceps as he stared down at me with a lusty grin and fucked another big young load up inside of me. By the time he’d headed back to school in August, things were definitely different between us. Better, really, but the way my son had shown himself to me, as the man he’d become, had given me a lot to think about in the months since then. A lot to think about, and a lot to stroke about.

I didn’t need the memories now, though. Not with the way he was pushing my polo shirt up my chest as we sucked on each other’s tongues and grunted low and deep. I found myself raising my arms automatically, Damon breaking his assertive kiss long enough to get the shirt up past my face, leaning right back in to reconnect as soon as the shirt cleared the crown of my head. No time to overthink things now, as I kissed him back hard, the depth and intensity coming roaring back into our bodies like we hadn’t ever been apart. I worked my hands over his trim hips and the muscular flare of his ass as he hunched himself into me, groping the big muscles of mine right back.

Just a few buttons and a push took care of Damon’s shirt, and while he shook it free of his wrists, I groped the firm, smooth flatness of his pecs. Naturally smooth, not a bit like me in that respect, strong from years of baseball. He flexed them up for me, and I growled and licked the warm skin of them hungrily, fastening my lips to one big, stiff brown nipple as he moaned and clutched the back of my head.

“Fuck I missed you, Dad,” he groaned, rubbing the back of my neck as I licked and sucked on the stiff peak of his jock kid tit. “Missed this bad, big guy.”

He ran his hands up my lats as he leaned in and started to nuzzle the side of my neck, tracing his lips over it before crushing them against the skin, a warm, wet kiss as his tongue licked at the skin of my neck, up to my ear, making me shiver and groan around his nip.

“Big sexy fuck, Dad,” he growled into my ear, all deep and low and so fucking manly, I couldn’t help but shiver inside. “My big sexy fuckin’ dude.”

“My sexy fuckin’ kid,” I growled back as I leaned up to meet his mouth again. “My sexy fuckin’ man.”

Damon let out a little half-grunt, half-whimper at that, and fed me his tongue again. Our hands grabbed at each other’s belts, yanking and releasing, unbuttoning, unzipping. Damn but it was a treat to slide my hands down his waist, pushing his pants down from the inside as I felt the hard-carved muscles of his hips, his glutes, his upper thighs. He was doing the same to me, moaning into my mouth as we felt each other up. I was damn glad I’d kept at it in the gym. I’d always been pretty fit, but being with my boy like this had kept me motivated to fight back against middle age. I wanted to be hot to him, like he was hot to me. Show him the body he’d inherited from me, to its best effect. He sure seemed to appreciate it, as he stroked me all over and kissed me deep, and yeah, I wasn’t blind to the covetous, lusty way he stroked and squeezed my ass through my boxer briefs. The ass he’d fucked, and well, for most of last summer. Hell, I was doing the exact same thing to his prime young tail, all high and tight and hard and round, all in my hands as we went to town on each other.

I ran my hands over the dark, bristly shortness of his hair as he crouched down between my spread thighs, stroking his hands up them, looking up at me sitting side-saddle on the bed above him and nodding approvingly. I ran my thumb over the little ruff of beard on his chin, grinning at the typically-Damon way he’d shaped it, all the care he put into his appearance. Not a vain kid, necessarily, but he’d always been good-looking, and he’d always taken good care of himself. It had made him even more popular, and while it was a hot, secret kick to see the way people looked at him once he hit his mid-teens and started to get really fine, it was fucking mind-blowing when he’d come to me the summer after his senior year, and told me how fine he’d always thought I was. How hot he thought I was. A mind-blowing summer after that in all kinds of ways.

He grinned up at me as I scratched his chin with my thumb, then ducked his head, those full lips parting, his tongue pink and gleaming as it licked the pad of my thumb, then down the underside of it. He locked his big brown eyes on mine and sucked my thumb to the root, making me flow precum even harder inside my straining boxer briefs. That insanely hot combo of the sensations, the sounds of his mouth working wetly on my digit, the happy, deep-chested grunts he was letting out as we gazed at each other.

Damon primed me like that for a couple minutes, coming up off my thumb with a gasp, his lips glossy with spit as he grinned up at me, tipped me an incredibly sexy wink, then reached for the waistband of my shorts.

“Aw shit aw shit!” I hissed through gritted teeth, my ass clenching tight as it came up off the bed. I couldn’t even look down at the sight of my son swallowing my cock, all skilled and self-assured as those full lips slicked their way down my shaft, his tongue somehow like sandpaper and silk at the same time as it lavished my throbbing hard flesh. Watching him do it might make me want to cum even more, and there was still so much more to do.

He’d been good at this that first summer - too good for it to have been his first time, and we talked a lot about that afterwards, how he’d prepped himself for coming onto me like he did. It still fired my nuts off bigtime, the stories he’d told me, about dugouts and best buds’ bedrooms, the back seat of the team bus, the front seat of a Silverado, the hot, salty loads he’d coaxed out of balls, down his throat, all the prep work he’d done before he came to me. Wanting to be good for me, so he could show me how much he meant it, all these things he felt for me.

He was beyond good then, and even better now. No lie, the best head I’d ever had, and not just because it was my boy who was giving it to me. I told him so as I cupped the back of his head, listening to the lewd, wet, gulping sounds of him sucking, making fresh spit for me as he swallowed even more, bathing my throbbing Dad cock in the warmth of it. It overflowed his lips, streamed down my shaft, into my bush and over my balls, the warm trickle of it making things even better. I felt the graze of his fingertips over my balls, through the hair I kept trimmed back ever since he’d done it for me four summers ago. Spreading the wetness of his spit over the skin, his touch light but confident, stroking my big full balls as he sucked the hard column of flesh he’d come from.

The way he stroked down over my taint, through the fur there, all warm and moist with sweat and his spit, made me shiver all over. I finally looked down at him as he teased the skin with his fingertips, and found him gazing up at me. Kind of adoringly, yeah, but also with that directness he’d found lately. A man’s gaze, not just a son’s. My man, I thought, and shivered all over again, feeling the head of my cock throb precum into his swirling spit. My thighs spread a little wider, giving him more access, and he took me up on it, grazing the tip of his middle finger over the hair that lined the tightness of my hole, making me tingle all up through my core. He made a deep low, affirmative noise that sizzled all the way down my cock, buzzing my balls, making me grunt and squirm and open up to him, and then he slipped his finger inside of me.

Fuck, if I was struggling not to cum before, the feeling of Damon’s finger stroking my nut while he swallowed my cock was making it a real challenge to hold onto my load. I clutched the covers in one hand and the back of my son’s slow-bobbing head in the other and held on tight.

“Fuck, Dad,” he growled, his voice all thick with spit when he came up off the end of my cock a few intense minutes later. Thick strands of his spit connected the fat head of my cock to his full lips, and the lewd way he sucked it up, the horny grin he gave me, made me grunt with lust for him.

“Can’t wait to get this inside me again, big guy,” he said, giving it a slow, spit-slicked stroke, leaning in to run his tongue up the underside of the shaft, meeting my eyes again as he did. He had two fingers lodged inside me now, skilfully stroking my prostate as he slow-jacked and licked my piece, those big brown eyes alive and hungry and happy.

“Shit, me either, stud,” I grunted, my voice all tight, rubbing the back of his head. He pushed himself upright, all long, defined muscles under smooth tan skin, his cock threatening to bust out of the skimpy little grey briefs he was wearing. Grey and soaked dark where the thick head of his cock pulsed at the fabric, soaking it with his pre, the patch slowly spreading. I reached out and ran one hand up the long, hard muscle of his thigh, feeling him flex it up for my appreciation, his fingers slowly working inside me still.

“You will, Dad, believe it,” he grinned, leaning down to buzz my lips with his. I could taste myself on them. “But there’s something else I’ve been looking forward to, too.”

He stroked my prostate for emphasis - as if I needed it - and fed me his tongue again, thick with the taste of the cock that had made him.

“God, so fuckin’ tight,” he growled lustily many long minutes later, coming up out of my ass, that little thatch of beard all glossy with his spit. For all his playful lustiness earlier, he was all man, all lust now, his eyes big and dark and intent on mine, working my cock with one hand, his other squeezing the muscles along the back of my thigh. I was laid out on my back, legs in the air, feeling lewd and loving it, my hole tingling from the intense, skilful tonguework he’d laid down on it. My boy Frenched my hole as well as he Frenched my mouth, sliding his tongue up inside of me with the same hungry joy I felt when I did it to him. I couldn’t wait to feast on his tight-muscled ass like he’d been doing to mine, but for right now, I was too horny to think about much more than the long, slow, probing licks of his magical tongue, digging deep inside of me.

Why else had I cleaned myself out so thoroughly this afternoon, before he got here? I’d known this was coming. Knew what he wanted. The thing was, I wanted it just as bad. Maybe more. Now I was getting it, in spades.

“Let me taste you, buddy,” I growled, and my kid scrambled around obediently, presenting his briefs-straining bulge to me proudly. I loved him in these underwear, but even more out of them, my hands yanking the flimsy things down his athlete’s thighs, his big hard cock snapping loose, all wet-headed, a slightly darker, uncut version of my cock. Big and hard and ready to roll. Ready for anything.

He tasted all salty and natural, clean but worn-in, musky and rich and dense. Like a man, more and more each time, and I growled happily around him, savoring the taste of his big, slow-leaking piece as I slid my lips down the veiny, pulsing length of my boy. He moaned and clutched the back of my head, letting me glide up and down on him for a couple minutes, three of his fingers plugging my tingling, hungry Dad hole while I worked, slowly squirming inside of me. Then he shifted around on the mattress, stretching out towards my groin, and gave the head of my cock a slow, wet sucking that had my toes curling. 69ing with my boy was one of those sweet, intense pleasures that had a permanent place in my mental highlight reel, but Damon had other plans. He was a little longer in the torso than me, long and limber enough to spit my cock out and nuzzle his way up past my balls, his long tongue lapping at my spit-wet taint, through the fur and up to my hole, following the path of saliva he’d laid down a little while ago, refreshing it as he slipped his fingers from the ring of muscle and replacing them with his tongue, licking his way back into me.

Your kid’s eating you out while you swallow his cock, Doug, that lusty voice in my head said. You know what that means, don’t you, buddy.

Yeah, I knew what it meant. I was no fool. I knew what he wanted, and more than that, I knew I wanted it too. Maybe even more than he did.

The practiced, self-assured way Damon squirted lube onto his cock made my insides churn with a complicated mix of love and lust. Awe, too - awe of the man I’d made, the man he’d become. A good son, a good man, and an excellent lover. He looked up at me as he slicked the big, handsome length of his young cock up, giving me that panty-dropper of a smile he had. I held my own superhard cock in my hand, not stroking, just reminding myself of what my boy could do to me - do for me. I watched him squirt another stream of lube down on the backs of the three fingers he was still slowly working inside of me, pushing the slick, cool stuff into me, up into that space no other man had touched for twenty years, before him. The way he worked my hole open, prepping it with that skilful self-confidence, I knew it now - my hole was his. And my son knew it too, as those big warm brown eyes met mine, biting his lip a little as he worked his long, lubed fingers up deep inside me, spreading the stuff around, spreading me open for him.

“Yeah Dad,” he grunted as he pushed up into me. It wasn’t nearly as tough as the first few times this past summer, because once my boy’s big cock had tripped that old switch inside of me, he’d made a believer out of me all over again. Just like my old buddy Anderson had, back when I was 20, in the back of an old Army Ram pickup, parked deep in the pine trees in a sandy, forgotten corner of Fort Bragg. Changing my perspective, making me feel things I never thought I’d feel about myself. Making me touch myself when I was alone, reliving the intensity of the sensations inside of me, making me cum like a teenager all over again.

The way Damon had fucked me last summer, fucked me and filled me, had awoken that feeling in me again. I’d kept it up as best as I could these past few months, with my fingers and a toy, jerking myself off as I probed up deep inside of myself, feeling lewd, feeling dirty, feeling on fire. Ready for my boy to come back home and come to me like this again.

So it was easier now, yeah, because I knew I wanted this - no, needed it. Needed the slick, throbbing, hot press of his hard young flesh entering me, nothing but a slick layer of lube separating our skin as my handsome stud kid rocked his hips and fed me seven hard inches. It was easier, but no less intense, and I had to squeeze my cock firmly to stem the imminent flow of my cum. My toes curled and I moaned huskily, and my boy moaned right back with me.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he hissed, biting his lip again, his eyes somehow hungry and soft at the same time as he worked that big, hungry young dick of his up into my depths.

“So fuckin’ big,” I grunted back, and the pleased look on his face made me smile. The same look he got when he received a compliment on a job well done, a look I knew well from these past twenty years or so. For the thousandth time since we’d gotten deep like this, I felt the powerful twinning of paternal pride and intense manly lust, that taboo thrill stoking the fires inside of me along with his cock.

As always, when he was complimented on his work, my boy set about trying to do an even better job. Once he was fully embedded inside me, the trimmed dark fur of his bush meshing with the hair on my balls, he leaned down to buzz his lips over mine.

“I love being inside you, sir,” he said, quiet and deep. “Love being your man, Dad.”

“You’re one hell of a man, buddy,” I murmured back, flicking my tongue against those sensuous lips of his. “My man, son.”

“Aw Dad,” he grunted, and kissed me hard as he pulled his athletic hips back, then fed me all of that handsome young dick again in one smooth, firm, deep thrust, and we were off and running.

My cock was drooling precum all over my stomach, throbbing back to full hardness as Damon stroked his cock over my spot, up deeper inside of me, giving me that intense sensation of fullness to go along with the powerful glow of pleasure on a slow burn all through my loins. I couldn’t touch myself, because I was in this for the full ride right along with him.

Instead, I ran my hands over the bulging mass of his upper arms, his muscle-rounded shoulders, over the smooth, sweat-glowing muscles of his square young pecs. I admired the flex and shift of his defined abs, the way his hips articulated, the lusty, deep, intent look on his handsome face as his gaze roved up and down my torso, from where his cock pistoned in and out of my tight hole, up past the hard, leaking stretch of my father cock, over the still-firm muscles of my chest, all dusted in manly fur. Then up to meet my eyes, nodding at me, both of us feeling the essential rightness of what we were doing. Not just the rightness of him fucking me - but god damn, it was so right - but the rightness of being so close, so deep, a father and son coupling in sweaty, incestuous heat. I’d never felt this way with anybody else. Not just pleasured - connected.

We alternated between low, lusty murmuring, then stretches of wordlessness, just pants and grunts and  the slap of flesh against flesh, the slick sound of a big cock breaching a well-lubed hole repeatedly.

“Nobody else, Dad,” he half-grunted, half-moaned, his body a machine built for pleasure, sleek and strong and precise, fucking us both up to that fast-approaching peak. “Nobody ever… fuck… never this good…”

“Nobody like you, son,” I grunted back, reaching up to stroke the sweaty side of his face, his eyes boring deep into mine, all flushed and panting and beautiful. “No other man.. no-one…”

“Your man, Dad,” he gasped, fucking harder, deeper, faster. “Wanna be yours. Can I, Dad? Can I be your man?”

“Fuck,” I growled, feeling the intensity of what he was saying rippling through me, riding the crest of my onrushing orgasm. Fueling it. “You already are, buddy. Daddy’s man. My man. Always have been.”

“Always,” he hissed through clenched teeth, and I couldn’t miss the emphasis he put on that. Always. Yeah. It was a huge idea, huge and wrong and deep, and so fucking right. I knew it was never going to be this good with anybody else. Hell, I’d probably known it since that first summer, when we’d first cum together.

“You gonna make your man cum, son?” I grunted. “Show me how good you are?”

“Fuck yes,” he growled, taking hold of my hips more firmly, tilting them up to dick me even deeper. We were both well and truly in the red zone now. No stopping. No turning back. Not that either of us could. Not that either of us wanted to. “Gonna make you cum, Dad. Make my man cum so good…”

Damon slid one hand up to cup the back of my head, possessive and determined, his face full of lust and love and the deep, secret history of our incestuous bond. On fire with it. He loved this as much as, maybe even more than I did. Being his father’s man.

“Cum for your man, Dad,” he grunted. “Show me how much you love this. How much you love who we are.”

“You and me, son,” I grunted right back, my hand around my cock now, strumming it, scaling that last peak. “Bein’ men together.”

“Fuck yeah, family men,” he growled. “Together, Dad. Always. Fuck!”

That pretty much did it for me, that and the intensity of his cock pounding my prostate, the handsome face of the boy - the man - I’d made and raised and loved like no other. Fucking me like the man he was. My man. My son. Mine.

My cum came blasting out of my cock, hot ropes of it, painting my chest with thick, pearly streaks as I clutched my hardon with one hand and his hard arm with the other, gasping as I shot one of the most powerful loads of my life, clear up to my collarbone.

“Yeah, Dad, yeah,” Damon grunted with a lusty grin, then a determined look on his handsome face. He ran his hand up from my hip, all through the thick streaks of cum on my torso, then slid it back down, all warm and sticky, taking firm hold of my hip again and setting a hammering pace inside of me.

“Fuckin’ cummin’ in my man,” he moaned through gritted teeth, then his mouth dropped open into a wide O, his dark brows knitting, all the firm, strong muscles in his arms and torso straining in sharp relief as he plunged his cock to the root inside of me.

“Ah Dad!” he gasped as he flooded me with his young stud cum, throbbing and spurting deep inside of me. Not the only man who’d ever fucked me, but the only man to ever claim me like that. No matter what I thought or said, I knew that for a fact, now. I was his. He was mine.

Damon stayed inside me as we folded around each other, my cooling cum pasting our torsos together as we kissed, deep and slow, the kind of long, languid makeout we both loved, all tongues and slow-flowing spit and satisfied grunts and murmurs. He stroked the sweaty side of my face as we traded tongues, and again, I felt that intense sense of pride at the lover my son had become - the man he was. A man I’d helped shape, sure, but all of this came natural to him. It was deep inside him, like we were deep inside each other.

When his cock eventually softened and slipped from me, I felt its absence intensely. I watched him reach down between my thighs, felt the trickle of his cum leaking from me, the swipe of his thumb across the puffy tingle of my hole sending shivers through my loins. When he brought his cum-slicked thumb up to my face, grinning with sexy confidence, and slipped his seed into my mouth, I nearly gasped at the natural, unselfconscious power of my stud kid.

“So what do you say, Dad?” he said after another round of slow, sticky kisses, his hand caressing the big muscle of my chest, tracing through the cum, sweat and fur there. Something both loving and possessive in it. I was his, inside and out, and he was mine. No question about that, anymore. “Can I move in here with you, or what?”

God damn, there was something so powerful and sensual about that whole idea. Not just him sleeping in here with me, or sharing the bed. Sharing each other, fully. Men of the house, together. I hadn’t shared my bed that way with anyone since I’d divorced his mother, and hell, for quite a while before that, to be honest. Hadn’t felt right with anyone else. But with him, with my boy - my man - in the moment, I knew.

“We could be so good together, big guy,” he murmured, ducking his head to press his lips to my chest, those big brown eyes getting to me like they always did. “We’re too good together already not to give it a shot.”

I cupped the back of his head and gave him a level look.

“If we do, I’m still your father, you know,” I said. “No matter what else we do, or are together, that comes first.”

“Always, Dad,” he smiled, stretching up to brush his lips over mine. “Always my father. Always my man. And I’ll always be your son, no matter what.”

“You’ll always be my man, big guy,” I grinned, loving the big smile that spread across his handsome young face.

“Gonna show you, you’ll see, Dad,” he murmured against my lips, teasing them. I knew he meant it - he was always good like that - and the idea of how he intended to show me sent another electric thrill through my core.

“But if you want to make me come first sometimes, that’d be cool too,” he grinned.

“Yeah, I think that can probably be arranged,” I chuckled, folding my arms around him and pulling him back into me to see where we went next.

Special thanks to my Bro @pagespermer for inspiring me to do this one.

Last night, for instance, he came over after work for a swim, we wound up grilling out, having a couple drinks, and about an hour later, we were in my bed, big Marcus huffing and puffing and sweating as he inched his big, fat ex-linebacker cock up my ass. It had been awhile, but his girl had broken up with him recently, and I was feeling sorry for the big lug, and also super horny, and like I said, we got a lot of history between us, so it was no big deal to shoot a couple loads with each other like that. Having him fall asleep in my bed, those meaty forearms wrapped round me as he spooned into me, was an unexpected bonus. And it wasn’t weird at all this morning, making coffee before he headed back to work, still in last night’s clothes. It felt good, actually. I’d never had that with anybody before. My first real overnighter. And it was with my big brother.

So when he turned up this evening with his overnight bag and a kind of sheepish grin on his face, I was cool with it. Very cool. We didn’t talk about it, but there was that vibe between us. Like in the old days. Like the summer he came home from school, our first summer here in the new place, and he’d wound up copping my cherry in this very pool while the folks were out at dinner one night. Or the next summer, after he graduated, before he got his first coaching job down in Texas, and we’d fucked around pretty much the entire summer break, even though he was kind of seeing a girl at the time.

I was cool with all that, and very cool when he stripped off poolside tonight and dropped in bareass. Honestly, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that, but the folks had only been gone a couple days, and I hadn’t quite gotten around to going full-native yet. Seeing my big, muscled, hairy-chested lug of a big bro do it was pretty damn inspiring, though. And now I was hard in my shorts for real, not just a twinge, as I watched him haul one foot up onto the side of the pool to hoist his big, sexy, naked ass out. The deep dimple in the side of that beefy, thick-muscled rump of his… the way those brawny glutes of his flexed as he climbed out, water streaming down them… a guy could get used to seeing a sight like that.

I was hitching at the hard length of my cock in my shorts, kind of zoned out, staring at the epicness of Marcus’ man ass, wondering what it would be like to make him flex it up for me while I pawed it, licked it, ate it, fucked it… when I saw him snapping his fingers, a bemused grin on his face.

“Huh?” I said, dumbly.

“I said, I’m getting a beer, kid. Do you want one?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, blushing, even though we were cool, and he’d already done a lot of those things to my ass, last night and other summers. “And dude, quit calling me ‘kid.’ I liked it a lot better when you called me Dad.”

Dude, the fuck? I thought, and knew it was time to put the bowl down. But still… yeah. Fuck. I had kind of liked that. And like… as awesome as it was to clutch those big, furry mounds of pec muscle of his as he loomed over me, that lusty grin on his handsome face as he plowed my tail, idly thinking in my mind that this must be what it would be like to get fucked by Dad… there was a part of me that wanted to fuck him. Not just fuck him, to really take him, make the big chunk of beef mine for the night. I was nowhere near as big as him, I’d topped out at 160 and wasn’t super hairy or anything - it was like Marcus got all the throwback genes to our Scottish ancestors, passed down the line through Dad to him, and fuck, he’d look good in a kilt tossing a caber or something like that  at the Highland Games…

“Oh you did, huh?” Marcus said, this funny little smile on his face as he looked at me, that big ol’ dick of his dangling down and dripping water on the tile. And then it twitched, and started to thicken a little. I was sure it wasn’t the weed making me see things. But before I could scope it out any further, he turned and padded into the kitchen.

The water was still rippling from his departure, and it looked hypnotic and inviting as hell, and before I could really think about it, I was up on my feet, dropping my shorts, letting the warm evening air caress my body as I dove in. The cool of the water helped shock some of the steel from my cock, woke me up a little, but when I resurfaced and saw Marcus heading back, that big dick definitely more full than it was when he went inside, my own cock began its steady rise again. Something about the look on his face as he took in the sight of me in the water sent a little chill up my spine, in a damn good way. So I watched him, frankly and openly, appreciatively, as he waded his way back in and over to me, a Shiner in each hand.

“Here you go… Dad,” he said as he handed mine to me, with a snarky kind of smile, but that weird gleam in his eye.

“Thanks, Junior,” I said back, smartly.

“I told you, dude, don’t call me that,” he frowned.

“OK… Son,” I grinned, giving him a wink as I took a hit on my beer. My cock twitched again as it reached full hardness, and of course he happened to look down right then and see me, full hard and curving up towards the muscles of my stomach as we floated in the warm water. That grin of his was a little bigger when he looked back up at me, and saw I was checking him out too.

“I kind of like the ring of that… Dad and Son,” I said, my throat a little dry. I was way too high for this, but I couldn’t help myself.

“That right?” he said, his voice low and deep and sexy as hell. I nodded, took another drink to hide my nervousness. Damn, he was sexy as fuck when he got this look in his eyes.

“What do you like about it… dude?” he said, edging a little closer to me, until I found myself backed up against the wall of the pool, and nearly surrounded by 220 pounds of prime ex-jock beef when he rested his elbow up on the edge of the pool beside my head. I felt one of his powerful, hairy thighs brush up against mine, sending an electric surge right up the shaft of my cock.

“I dunno,” I half-stuttered. “I guess… like… maybe…”

“It’s a power thing?” he said, smiling that weird smile. “Like a role reversal?”

I nodded, drank, since I couldn’t find any words. But the more he talked, the more he looked at me with that intent stare, the harder I got. I could feel it in my belly now, all tight and nervy. Excited. Curious.

“The big, hairy muscly guy and the little jock dude, switching it up, huh, little bro?”

I looked him in the eye, and rubbed my thigh up between his, up under his big balls. He grunted at it, and shifted into me a little more. I could feel it in the air between us. We were going to have some serious dude fun tonight. I’d pretty much figured we would, but now I knew for sure, and I knew it was going to be different. More. Something new. I was beyond excited.

“You ever think about fucking around with Dad, bro?” he asked, his eyes gleaming. I blushed. Yeah. I had. Our Dad was big, brawny, rugged, funny, and maybe Marcus was better looking, but Dad had presence. Something about him, and Marcus and me both had a little of that in us. It was one of the cool things about growing up, becoming a man, seeing the good parts of your Dad emerging in you. Traits. Character. Me and Marcus both had quite a bit of Dad in us, but tonight, I felt like I had more. I might not have the huge build, the pure physicality, but I had the presence, I could feel it in me, especially when I took a swig of beer, and then rubbed the still-chilled bottle against Marcus’ big, brown nip. I watched him shudder a little, and I knew I had him.

“What about you?” I said, making my voice a little lower, deeper, huskier. “You ever think about being with your Dad… Son?”

Pure fucking electricity, right there. I felt it, and I know Marcus for damn sure felt it, because I reached down into the water between us and just caught his cock reaching its full hardness. When my hand grazed it, then wrapped slowly around it, he let out a low moan. Nodding as he did.

“You do, huh buddy?” I said, shifting closer into the gap between us, eyes on his, feeling myself fill with that paternal presence our Dad had so much of. Latent within both of us MacDougall boys, but coming out in me now, tonight.

“What do you think about Dad doing to you, son?” I said, slipping my arm round his thick neck and rubbing my hand up over the strong swell of his belly, up to his beefy, steely pecs, through the wet fur on them, as I felt his heart race and his breath get all shallow. It was getting a little darker now, but I was pretty sure my brother was blushing. I teased the stiffening nub of his nip, and felt his breath quicken.

“Kissing me…” he said faintly, huskily. “Touching me… up against me… wrapping his big arms round me.. his big cock all hard up against mine… and then… just… making love to me…”

“Making love” was an expression I never figured I’d hear from big ol’ Marcus, but it was out now, something coming out from deep inside of him, and I could feel that we both wanted to go deeper into that place. Swim into it together, and see what happened.

I leaned into him, his breath huffing warm and beery on my lips as they parted and connected with his, and the whimper that came from him, shading into a husky moan, sent another throb through my cock. Marcus’ tongue pushed into my mouth eagerly, his big arms folding around my smaller frame, and I set my beer bottle next to his on the side of the pool and returned the favor, squeezing my arms around his plush, steely bulk and squeezing firmly as we pushed our way deeper into a long, wet, urgent kiss.

Marcus’ big cock felt like a piece of steel against my own, and for all his extra muscle and thickness and the couple inches he had on me heightwise, we were pretty much evenly matched in the cock department. I’d been one of the bigger guys on my team in high school, top three easily, and for me, the only greater pleasure than admiring and playing with my fat cock was feeling another equally sturdy unit pressed up tight against it. Particularly my big brother’s, and especially right now, as we made out hard and deep in the warm water, arms squeezing, hands stroking, his wet chest fur grazing over my mostly smooth skin, his powerful thighs entwining around mine. I slipped my hands down his back to cup the big twin chunks of steel and beef that he called an ass, furry and deep-dimpled and spectacularly rounded and powerful. He answered by grunting harder into my mouth, even more lustily, and clenching them up for me, making those indents even deeper, a perfect home for the heels of my hands as my fingers spanned over the hairy swells of his glutes.

“You wanna play a game tonight, bro?” he asked huskily, eyes glittering, when we came up from the depths of our intense makeout.

“Fuck yeah I do, Son,” I half-growled, bringing another husky moan from him, as he thrust his cock up against mine even more firmly, and squeezed my glutes in his big paws before kissing me hard again.

“Why don’t we head on inside, Champ?” I said with a grin, using one of Dad’s favorite nicknames for his boys. I swear I could feel him vibrate, hearing that from me, and then he grabbed my hand and practically dragged me out of the pool and into the house.

It was hard to resist making out some more with him, because he was such a good kisser and so damn hungry, but I was just as good to go with this whole game as he was. I felt charged up, full of something bigger than myself - full of Dad, felt like. Full of that presence of his. So I maneuvered him around, pushed between his big shoulders and made him bend over the bed. He automatically assumed a three-point stance - once a football jock, always a football jock - and then his big, sexy ass was literally mine.

I was real glad our pool was saltwater as I buried my face deep in him and put my tongue to serious work. I’d never had the chance to do this to Marcus before, and I made up for lost time, licking and lapping and snorting and nuzzling my way up and down and deeper into that deep, thick, fur-framed trench of his. The noises from up above told me I was doing real well by him, and I sank my fingers deep into the epic flesh of his cheeks, spread him as wide open as I could, and zeroed in on the tight knot of his hole.

“Oh fuck yeah, Dad!” he moaned, as I finally got to taste him inside. Musky, pungent, sharp, all those things a good man ass should taste like, his richness flooding my mouth and making it water even more for him.

My cock was throbbing real hard by now, and I could feel myself starting to leak a little. Much and all as I could’ve spent the rest of the evening with the bulk of my tongue sliding up into his depths, I wanted more. This was my moment, and I was determined to seize it.

“You ready for Daddy to fuck you, Champ?” I said, wiping the excess spit off my face as I fisted my cock.

Marcus swung his head around, looking almost surprised, like he really hadn’t expected me to go so deep with this. Like he wasn’t truly thinking he was gonna give his ass up to his little bro. Not even when his little bro was being his Dad for the night. Well, I had news for him. Seven inches of news, freshly spit-slicked and raring to go.

“Oh man, I don’t -” he started, but I ran my hand up the length of his spine and rubbed the back of his neck and head soothingly, even as I was rubbing the dripping head of my cock to his spit-wet hole.

“Shhhh, Son,” I said. “Let Daddy take care of you, buddy. I promise, you’ll like it.”

My bedside table was just within arm’s reach, and I fumbled my lube out of the drawer, popping the cap off and pouring a slick stream of it down into his crack, letting it slide down and flow over the head of my cock, where I could rub it into him even further. Then, one hand on the thickness of his hip for balance, the other on the glossy shaft of my cock, I pressed against him more firmly.

“Bear down, big guy,” I said huskily. “Let Daddy inside you, Champ.”

At that, he kind of whimpered, and I felt his hole flex, just minutely at first, then more as he bore down, and all of a sudden, I was inside him. My cock sliding up into the one ass I’d fantasized most about since I was in my horny, horny teens. I could have cum then and there, but I had that feeling still within me, filling me to bursting, like I was about to fill Marcus. My boy, my son for tonight. All mine. Beyond that, who knew? Tonight was all that mattered. The further I got inside him, inching my way up into the hot tightness of my brother, the deeper I felt it. That sense of power. That presence. Filling me up, as I filled the big guy. An incredible mix of power, lust, even love for the big lug. A feeling I tried to share with him, as I made my way fully inside of him for the first time, feeling him hot and tight and slick and clamping down all around me, as I took hold of his beefy hips and began my lusty work on him.

I knew Marcus had bottomed before, but it wasn’t really big in his repertoire. Still, after a few minutes, him feeling uncomfortable and me feeling like I wanted to breed him until he bore my children, he started to get into it, to pick up on my rhythm and find one of his own, until he was working his way back on me, meeting me in the middle, the bed shaking and the room filling with our grunts, curses, moans, the slap of my hip against his ample flesh.

“Ah fuck, Dad,” he moaned. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…”

I grinned, palmed some sweat off my forehead, and smacked his ass for good measure. I was loving this, loving every single aspect of it - but most of all, I was loving the play between us. The feeling of power, of control, of that deep presence, flowing up out of me and into him, through the thrusting, throbbing thickness of my cock. For tonight, my Dad cock.

“Ah fuck yeah, Dad!” Marcus growled. It sounded like a bad porno. But it felt fucking amazing, as he tightened up and flexed those beautiful glutes of his, so I alternated fuckstrokes with slaps on his well-padded buns, riding the wave of the vibe with him even deeper, harder, faster.

I could have done this all night, felt like I could have come inside of him and just kept on rockin’, but I made the mistake of reaching around his bulk to feel his cock, to see if he was still as hugely hard as he had been a little while ago. He was, maybe even more so.

“Aw yeah buddy, you’re so fuckin’ hard for Daddy, huh?” I grunted, giving him a slick-palmed stroke or two, and then I saw, and felt, his big chunky muscles tighten up all over.

“Oh shit…. aw Dad!” he moan-wailed, and then I felt that big piece of his throb double-hard in my hand, and then he was firing off, spurting ropes of thick cum all over my sheets, past the mattress and onto the carpet on the other side of my bed.

I felt his insides clenching rhythmically around me, squeezing my superhard cock, and between that and the sight of his muscles bulging, the beads of sweat popping across his big, bulky shoulders, the pure depth and heat in the way he called me “Dad,” it was all over for me too. I felt wave after wave of heat and electricity pulsing through me as I erupted, flowing spurt after spurt of cum into his core as I moaned out his name. Son. In that moment, nothing more, nothing less than my son. Fuck.

Marcus was resting on his forearms, his head hung low, still panting as he regained his breath, while I tried to do the same above him. I ran my hand up his back, feeling him shiver - or maybe he flinched, it was hard to tell the difference right then. Slowly, I slipped out of him, my cock still rubbery, half-hard and glazed with my cum. I reached down to squeeze his big ass, gratefully and affectionately, and he finally looked over his shoulder at me. He was flushed, wide-eyed, almost disbelieving.

“Dude…” was all he could say. Like he didn’t have any more words than that.

I was worried, real worried. Had I pushed it too far? Was it gonna trip over from freaky-hot to freaky-weird in his brain now that it was over, now that he had what felt like a quart of my cum inside of him? Shit, yeah, it was a strange situation, for sure. I mean, we were brothers. Brothers who fucked. That was enough as it was, never mind… all this. The roles. The names. The words. The feel of him surrendering his big, beefy jock tail to me the way he did. The easy way I just took it. Took it like I was Dad, aggressive and charming and confident and committed.

Fuck. Even with the red mist of our fuck slowly clearing… I knew I felt good about it. Damn good.

“Fuck, Marky,” I said quietly, using an old name for him I hadn’t done since I was a kid. I smiled hesitantly. And them, thank Christ, he slowly smiled back.

“Dude,” he said again, raising up on his knees. The fur on his big, thick pecs and muscle-rounded belly was damp with sweat and salty pool water. His big cock dangled, spent, still drooling a little cum from the big blunt tip of it. “That was fucking intense.”

I grinned, then chuckled, then began to laugh as he joined me. He reached out with his big paw, slipped his thick forearm round my waist, and pulled me back onto the bed and into his arms, pressing his lips to mine. I eagerly took his big, agile tongue, and we made out with a slow, deep ease. I could feel that post-fuck glow well and truly settling in over us both. That felt good, but more than that, he felt good. We felt good.

“You throw one hell of a fuck, kid,” he said after a while.

“I told you before, dude - don’t call me that,” I said with a mock frown. “Call me Dad.”

“How long you gonna keep that up?” he said, rolling his eyes, but smiling.

“All night, maybe,” I said, deepening my voice a little to try and match Dad’s gravelly baritone. “Longer, even. Depends on what you want… Son.”

“All night, huh?” he said, getting that gleam in his eyes again. His arms tightened around me, pulling me even deeper into the plushness of his big body.

“Long as you want it to, Champ,” I grinned back, feeling his big paws slip down to cup and squeeze my ass. “Besides… haven’t you always wanted to fuck your Dad too, big guy?”

“Dude, I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into,” he growled, leaning in to lick the sweat off the side of my neck as I moaned and shivered in his big, powerful arms.

“Pretty sure I do, kid,” I murmured in his ear. “But why don’t you go ahead and show Daddy what you’ve learned, Champ?”

Growling and laughing, Marcus pinned me back into the mattress and set to work, showing me what an attentive son my big bro could be.

More stories like this at https://talesfromunderthemattress.tumblr.com/tagged/story+time 

I sighed, grunted as his mouth began to trace over the shape of my cock through the nylon of my shorts. Already, his hands were sliding up and down my thighs, feeling their bigness, fingers edging up towards the loose openings of the legs. I brought my hand down to the close-cropped hair on the back of his handsome head, urging him even deeper.

Dad was a big guy - I’d got my size from him. Big, and still in good shape, handsome, an upstanding ex-jock suburban father of three. Loved his wife. But that was all outside shit. In here, alone with me, he loved my cock best of all. I was the one who got to see this secret side of him, and already my shorts were getting soaked with his spit as he ran his hungry tongue up my almost fully hard bulge. I cupped the back of my head and gently, but firmly, pulled it back. Still smiling as I looked him in his eyes, which were already half-hazed with his lust for my big young jock dick.

“You want more, big guy?” I said, low and deep. He just nodded, and scooted back a little to watch me stand up, slowly, looming over him, letting him take in the power of my big young linebacker’s frame, my bigger muscles, my manliness. And most of all, close to nine thick inches of cock, straining at the spit-wet front of my old shorts.

“Why don’t you go ahead and show me, Dad?” I murmured, and he half-grunted, half-whimpered, already reaching for my shorts.

“Yeah… I know what you’ve been craving,” I went on, as I started to peel my wife-beater up my big torso, then dropped it on the chair behind me. “You’ve been waiting for me to come home so we can do this again, haven’t you, big guy?”

“Ah son,” he moaned, and I let him reach for the waistband of my shorts.

He didn’t rush it, just slowly pulled them down, exposing the thickness of my golden bush, pulling the shorts down until the base of my cock showed, the hard length of my dick all pulled down by the waistband, giving me that pleasant twinge deep inside it. I know he was hungry for it, needed to see it, but he almost teased himself. It was all part of this. Teasing it out, ratcheting up the intensity inside of himself. And then the elastic pulled down past my head, and my cock snapped up, slapping into my stomach with an audible sound that made him grunt again. He slid the shorts the rest of the way down my powerful thighs, until I stepped out of them and stood totally naked, and hard, before my father. Feeling real powerful, like a god or something.

“Suck it, Dad,” I said, reaching for the back of his head to guide him close. It was such a trip, seeing the big, confident, take-charge stud reduced to a stare-eyed, lust-fogged cocksucker. A trip and a huge turnon. “Suck your boy’s cock.”

Dad wrapped his big paw around my thickness, and I grunted at the feeling, before he opened wide and sucked me down to the root. I remember seeing a nature documentary not long after we started doing this, with this jungle snake that unhinged its jaw to swallow a pig whole, and I immediately thought of Dad and boned the fuck up, and then I looked over at him sitting in this very armchair, blushing as he looked back at me, trying not to let the rest of the family see his own big hardon growing in his jeans. That night, after everyone else went to bed, he sucked two big teen cumloads from me in the garage, in the dark. He’d gotten even better at it since then, too.

He didn’t rush it now, but he didn’t drag it out either - just a slow, smooth, appreciative sweep down the length of me, from the tip to the base, until his nose was buried in my already sweaty pubes. I let out a deep, low moan, getting one from him in return as he opened his eyes and looked up at me, feeling my approval. I smiled and rubbed the back of his head.

“Good boy, Dad,” I murmured, and he whimpered and sucked me harder. Fuck yeah.

Dad kept stroking and squeezing my thighs as he worked my cock over in his usual talented way, and when I flexed my quads up for him some, he moaned even deeper around my dick. I knew my instincts were right, and I throbbed my cock in his throat to let him know how I was cool with that. Then I reached down, took one of his hands, the one with his wedding ring on it, and drew it slowly upwards. Up past the top of my thigh, over the edge of my bush, then up into the thick fur that carpeted my lower belly. I’d been leaning out a little, my abs were showing pretty damn well from under my regular beef, and I helped his hand explore over them, tracing the faint cuts of the muscle, before I drew it up even further. When it reached the patch of blond hair between the meat of my big pecs, I felt his fingers curl into it, and I let him do that for a minute, before moving his hand over my chest. Through the hair, over the thick muscle, down to the stiffness of my nip. We’d never gone this far - I’d never taken us this far before. He kept up a low stream of moans the whole time, working doubletime on my rod, his spit beginning to soak my big, cum-filled balls and drip onto the hardwood below us.

I guided his hand over to my other pec, my other nip, and his fingertips found it and began to tweak it on their own. I let his hand go, let it do its work, dropped both mine to the back of his head and fed him some more son dick. grunting deeply at him as he tweaked and twisted the thick stiffness of my nip. I felt the charge of it run through me, all the way to my cock, and from the husky grunt he let out, I knew I was trickling precum down his talented, hard-working throat.

“Damn, you suck my cock so good, Dad,” I growled. “So fuckin’ good. Like nobody else. ‘Cos you love sucking your boy’s big dick, don’t you, Dad?”

His eyes met mine, and he grunted in agreement. Sucked me deeper. I felt myself shudder, that real deep, real good feeling that I almost never got from anybody else like this. Just my Dad, working his magic on my big fucking dick. But now I knew there could be more, and I was going to show him that.

I took a firmer grip of his head in my hands, and started to slowly fuck his face. Easing him into it, at first, because I’m a big boy and I’m not an asshole. But picking up the pace, giving him solid, face-fucking thrusts, until my big balls were slapping his chin, and his big hands were gripping my ass as it flexed, not just holding on, but pushing me deeper.

“You know, Dad,” I grunted as I fucked his talented mouth, “I love how you suck my cock. But… I bet there’s more we could do. More ways you could make your boy feel good.”

He kind of frowned up at me, and I pulled my cock slowly out of his mouth, all slicked up and literally dripping, ropes of Dad’s spit hanging off it when it came free. He coughed, cleared his throat, and looked like he was about to say something, still frowning.

“Come on, Dad,” I said, before he could say anything. I reached down, tucked my hands into his armpits and pulled him up, like he was a kid. Then I walked naked, my big hard spit-slicked dick leading the way, into my bedroom.

I didn’t have to wait long. I was standing in front of the full-length mirror on the closet door, checking myself out, liking the progress on my body this last season. Knowing he liked what he saw too, which made it twice as good. Twice as hot. I felt studly as fuck, and when he appeared in my doorway, looking kind of sheepish but also a little hypnotized by the sight of his big young football player son, naked and bone-hard, waiting for him. He shuffled slowly, silently into my room, pushing the door closed behind him, and I knew he was mine.

Stay tuned for Part II...

It had been happening like this for years. I’d gotten sucked into the incestuous intimacy of their bond, first when Ben came home from his freshman year at State, when I came across the two of them making out down in the basement, and somehow found myself drawn in with them. Led by my pulsing father cock, and the memories of how things used to be with my own brothers, back in the day. I still to this day shot regular loads remembering the look on Davis’ face as Ben fucked his load out of him right in front of me. The hungry, needy look on his handsome young features as he drew me in to kiss him, his cum still spurting, hitting my stomach as I tasted my youngest son’s tongue for the first time. The way Ben’s big hands covered mine on Davis’ bare hips and squeezed. The way the two of them had made me cum that night.

Last night had been just as intense as ever, intense and exciting. So taboo, which fueled the heat even further. But there was more to it than the taboo - there was the feeling of being privileged to witness something more, to be invited into the unbreakable bond between two handsome, muscular young men. They’d folded themselves around me, a symphony of hands and lips and tongues and cocks, young muscles and fur pressed tightly to me. Slipping up into the tightness of my youngest was a singular experience, made even more so by the feeling of my eldest’s big, blunt-tipped cock pressing insistently at my own tightness. Pressing, nudging, then breaching my hole. Filling me up slowly, skilfully, fucking the load right out of me and up inside of Davis as the boys licked and kissed and nuzzled at the sweat of my skin.

Nobody had ever fucked me like my eldest son. Few had ever fucked me fullstop, but Ben set to it with passion, intensity, and skill. Making sure I got off before he did. Making me feel things inside nobody else ever had. Especially when I looked up at his face, and saw the echoes of my own father so strong in his handsome young features. Looking just like the first man I’d ever had a crush on. Whispering, “Cum for me, big guy,” the same thing my own father had always called me, saying the words I’d always wanted my own father to say.

So I always felt a little awkward after one of my encounters with my sons. But more so than ever before, today. Because as Ben had fucked a second load into me last night, big muscles bulging and aglow with sweat as he loomed over me and rocked his thick cock inside of me, he’d called me “big guy”. And before I knew what I was doing, not even thinking, I’d moaned out the word “Daddy”, and the two of us had come with a fiery intensity, Ben’s eyes going big at the sound of that word. Such a heavy word. So freighted.

We hadn’t said anything more about it, but Ben had cradled my own big body up against his as we slept, Davis pressed against my front, and the last thing I remembered before drifting off into sleep, soothed by Ben’s big hands rubbing my stomach and chest, was the feeling of his lips grazing the side of my neck, up to my ear, and the deep warmth of his voice, whispering to me.

“Everything’s gonna be alright, big guy.”

I watched my boys now, at ease down there in the water together, and wondered how everything could be alright now. Now that Ben had scratched my surface a little deeper than either of us had expected. But when they looked up to see me watching them, smiled, and waved me down, I went to them anyway.

The water felt good on my sweaty skin, and I was glad I’d kept in good shape for the hike up here to the falls. I wasn’t as big and defined as the boys were, of course, but they’d inherited their builds from me, and I knew I looked pretty damn good for my age. I tried not to think too much about the ways my sons had enjoyed my body over the years, much less how I’d enjoyed theirs, but all of that was there in the air between us even more strongly this morning. I still felt awkward, but also compelled, drawn into their easy, masculine fraternal bond. Their intimacy. Made welcome by them.

We talked, swam, splashed around, and just as I felt the awkwardness ease a little, receding back beneath the warmth of our familial bond, Davis swam up behind me and eased his big arms around my waist, as Ben surfaced with a big smile, shaking the water out of his thick, dark hair. I felt the heft of Davis’ big young cock against the thickness of my ass, making my own cock thicken in response. Even more so when Ben reached over to squeeze the muscles of my upper arms warmly.

“Last night, Dad, you said something,” he said, and I felt myself blush as I tried to look away, suddenly all hot with shame. But he just touched his fingers to the underside of my chin and drew my face back up to look at him.

“You said something, something deep,” he went on, and god, the combination of his eyes and voice were almost hypnotic. Usually I was the confident one, the man in charge, the one people looked to for the answers. But here, with the boys… it was different. And I found myself welcoming it, the ability to give in a little and just be.

“I don’t know where that came from, buddy,” I said almost weakly, feeling the shame burning crimson all over my face. He just smiled, shook his head lightly.

“Doesn’t matter where it came from, big guy,” he said. “But it came from deep down, didn’t it, Dad? Down in here.”

He tapped my chest, over my heart, for emphasis, and all I could do was nod.

“You’ve been one hell of a father to us, Dad,” he said, shifting in a little closer. “You could have freaked out, knowing your sons were in love with each other. But you didn’t. You could have stopped us, or kicked us out, or shamed us. But you didn’t.”

“You let us be us, Dad,” Davis said from behind me, squeezing his big arms around me. “And we want you to be you. Whoever you want to be, with us.”

“There’s something you wanted when you were younger, isn’t there, Dad?” Ben said, slipping his arms under Davis’ around me, so I was sandwiched between their big young bodies. “Something we got to have with you, because we were lucky. But you never got to have that, did you?”

“The chance to be a son with a dad who loved you deeply,” Davis went on, brushing his lips up and down the side of my neck as Ben leaned in to mirror the gesture on the other side. Jesus, this was intense. My heart was racing, my head starting to spin a little, and all the while, my cock pulsed and throbbed and kept growing and growing inside my board shorts.

“Davey and me, we came out here to be together, Dad,” Ben murmured. “To be family. Maybe raise a family. Be fathers ourselves.”

“Raise a son of our own together, Dad,” Davis said.

“Two fathers… brothers… raising a son together,” Ben said, tilting my chin again and brushing his lips over mine. “Close. The way we wanted to be raised. The way you wanted to be raised too, am I right, big guy?”

I nodded, all swept up in the intensity of the moment, the warm crush of their muscles on either side of me, their hands and lips grazing over my skin. Knowing on a gut level what they were saying. What they wanted to say. What could be… and wanting it. Wanting it bad.

“Maybe it’s time for you to have that, big guy,” Ben said. “Time with your Dad, the way you always wanted.”

“Your Dads,” Davis said into my ear. “Your sons… us… we’d like to be that for you. With you.”

“Would you like to be that with us, big guy?” Ben said, his eyes locked on mine, so deep I felt like I could almost swim in them. “Let your sons be your dads for you?”

I was nodding before I even knew what I was doing. Nodding, and feeling something inside me lift. Something heavy, and old. Ben smiled, and Davis’ lips pressed even more firmly against that spot that always drive me a little nuts, just behind my ear.

“We love you, son,” Ben said, grazing his lips over mine again. “We’ve always loved you.”

“Just relax, let go, and let us, son,” Davis echoed. “Let it be whatever it is.”

“Ah god,” I moaned, feeling like I could cry or cum or both. “I love you guys, you know that? I love you… Dads.”

Jesus, just saying it out loud like that was nearly enough to get me shooting. Davis’ hands slipped inside my shorts to pull them down, as his big brother… my eldest… my son, becoming so fatherly and intimate with me, slipped his thick tongue inside of my mouth, and right there in the moment, it really was like all those feverish teenage dreams I’d had, coming to life. Dreams of my father sweeping me up in his big, thick arms and kissing me deep. Deeper than my brothers did. Deeper than my wife. Kissing me like only a father can kiss his son, full of pride and passion and paternal love.

I felt it, that paternal power, that paternal love, rolling off of my sons as they slipped out of their shorts and against me, naked and hard, the mist of the waterfall fresh on our skin as we kissed and ground and thrust together, whispering intense, passionate words of incestuous love and lust together. Slipping out of the paternal role I’d always filled these past thirty years, and not always easily. Slipping out of that, and into the ease and freedom of being a kid again. A kid finally at one with the father… the fathers… he’d always craved.

There was no shame in letting my sons slide their cocks inside me now, no guilt or awkwardness. They took turns and took their time, fucking me slowly and well on the bank beside the waterfall, kissing and nuzzling and stroking and fucking me with tenderness and heat all mixed up. They were going to make great fathers. Maybe one day they’d bring their son down here to this place, and show him what they were showing me.

“Stay with us, son,” Ben said over me, his big muscles flexing beautifully in the sunlight as he thrust deeper into me. “Stay with us here… be family with us…”

“Help us be good fathers, like you are, son,” Davis said, leaning in to kiss me as Ben nodded and fucked me approvingly.

“We can be whatever we want to be out here, son,” Ben said, and the way they kept saying that, calling me son, every time, it’s like it helped it sink in even more. Who I could be, with them. A chance to explore that thing I’d always craved so much.

“So come be who you want to be with us.. with your dads, son,” Davis said, and this time it was me pulling his handsome face to mine to kiss him, as my balls throbbed and my cock started to shoot, unbidden, all over the sweaty muscles of my stomach.

“Fuck yeah, big guy,” Ben said, fucking up into me, fucking the cum out of me… out of his son, now. “You ready for your dads’ loads, son?”

I nodded as Davis pulled back, crawling down to lick the fresh-shot cum off my stomach, then leaning up to his brother to kiss him and share it back and forth.

“Fuck, our boy’s first load with his dads, baby,” Ben growled lovingly. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

“Just the first of many, right big guy?” Davis grinned down at me, ruffling my sweaty hair paternally as his big brother tensed up all over, dropped his head back, and moaned deep and low as he shot his paternal seed inside of me.

Ben pulled out, his big chest sill heaving,his whole muscular body aglow with sweat, and Davis took his place, sliding his big, thick young cock up inside the cum-slicked tightness of my ass. We locked eyes, and I finally found my voice as I stared at the thick, muscular beauty of him.

“Cum for me, Dad,” I grunted, squeezing his big, bulging upper arms. “Breed your boy… like your husband just did.”

“Aw FUCK!” Davis bellowed, echoing all around us, and his big muscles flexed up hard all over, his face frowning and gaping, eyes locked on mine with that kind of faraway wonder he got when he came.

I almost expected it to feel awkward afterwards, the three of us laying on the cool, moist grass by the water, wrapped up in the postcoital glow. God knows, it should have felt awkward, or weird - not just fucking around with your sons like we’d done, but giving in and giving up the role I’d played more than half my life. Letting my sons assume it, and let me be who I wanted to be. It was a trip, to be sure. But somehow, it didn’t feel awkward at all. It just felt right.

“We weren’t kidding about you coming out here to be with us, son,” Ben said, nuzzling my sweaty temple, and I was relieved to hear him still call me that. Relieved, and excited.

“You could retire, y’know,” Davis said from the other side. “Sell up, and come be with your family. The way you want to be, son.”

“You’ll always be our Dad - that’s never gonna change, big guy,” Ben said. “But we’d love to have you out here with us, to be something more, too. To be this, together.”

“To just be family,” Davis said, and kissed me. “Together, Dad… son.”

I thought about what awaited me back home in Ohio. An empty house, a job I was bored with no matter how well-paid it was. The quiet, kind of solitary life of a divorced, late-middle-aged man. A man who was ready to explore again. For things to be different. To discover… more.

“And what happens when you two finally manage to actually have a son of your own?” I said, one eyebrow raised.

“Well, I guess you’ll have a little brother… and a grandson, big guy,” Ben grinned.

“We’ll work all that out later, when it happens,” Davis laughed. “But right now, we already have a son…”

“One we love very much,” Ben finished. “We’ll show you how much, if you come be with us.”

An adventure, was what all this sounded like. I needed an adventure. I needed more. I needed this. My boys, my family… my men, no matter what we all called ourselves. What roles we played. We were family, and we were together, and that was the greatest adventure of all. One I was ready to start, for sure.

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