Date: Mon, 28 Nov 2016 15:48:23 +0000 (UTC)
From: short_guy@yahoo.com
Subject: Daddy Issues

Daddy Issues
by Short Guy

Years ago when AOL chat rooms were all the rage, I spent a lot of time in a
room devoted to father-son stories. Some of the people who hung out and
chatted in the room had fantasies of sex with their fathers or their sons
or another relative like a brother or uncle. But some of us had real
experiences and we would share our memories. For most, those memories were
treasured signs of love and lust, marks in the path of growing up, lessons
in how to be a man. Remembering Dad's muscular hairy chest, his hard and
growing cock, his deep blue eyes, remembering the closeness, telling the
story, reliving it, talking about it, sharing it, hearing other guys gasp
and beat their meat at the thought of my Dad's cock between my ass cheeks,
his gentle hand stroking my cock, his kiss on my cheek. Oh God it would
make our cocks to swell, our precum to leak, and soon, our cum to erupt at
the memory of Dad's face, his eyes, his touch, and the hot throbbing cock
that made us.

We liked sharing our stories and got off on remembering what it was
like. And of course hearing about others and imagining what it would have
been like to experience all that... I mean whose cock wouldn't get stiff
hearing a guy talk about the first time he sank to his knees and sucked his
father's cock and drank his father's cum...and felt his father's loving
hand on his face as dad's semen shot into his mouth. Or hearing how a guy
couldn't stop himself from slipping into his son's room in the night, and
getting under the covers and spooning with his beautiful baby boy,
surrounding him with dad's muscular arms, encircling his legs with dad's
tree trunk thighs, holding his boy close, so close, feeling the kid's 12
year old bubble butt against dad's engorged cock, slipping those pj's down
to cup the boy's smooth round ass cheeks with dad's large and muscular
hands, lubing his son's crack with dad's slippery precum as it dripped out
of the head of dad's cock, pulling his boy close, encircling him with dad's
arms, pressing dad's pecs against his son's back, kissing the side of his
boy's face, feeling his son's asshole get slimy against the helmut of dad's
penis, gently probing, pressing, testing, feeling that hole yield just a
little, just a little more, taking dad's time, a little stretch, just a
little more, to hear his boy say "oh God Daddy" as Dad is just about there
-- and then dad's cock slips inside the boy he made... to feel your son
shudder with lust, to feel how receptive he is, how much he wants to be
close to his dad, how much he wants to give his dad what he wants, how much
dad wants to be close to his son, close, so close...Who wouldn't want to
imagine the intense orgasm you would experience being inside the boy who
worships you, your flesh and blood...

I used to get off hearing other guys talking about having sex with their
fathers or their sons partly because it reminded me of my own experiences
with my Dad and partly because the whole idea of crossing a boundary you
were not supposed to cross was a huge turn on. What's a taboo but a thing
to yearn for? It wouldn't be forbidden if it wasn't so tempting and it
wouldn't get our hearts beating so hard if breaking the rules weren't so
incredibly rewarding. I loved my Dad and the idea of really "making love"
with him got my heart to race and my cock to grow rigid with lust. Hearing
other guys who were fucked by their Dads made it easier to imagine where my
own experience would have gone had Dad and I been a bit more adventurous
and were able to tell each other what we really wanted.

One guy started chatting with me when I was about 42 years old. He was in
my city and he was into hearing about my own experiences. He was also into
roleplay. I told him I wanted to replay things that happened with me and my
Dad and then to go beyond what we did to realize and experience stuff I
wish had happened. He was up for it and seemed eager to give me the
memories I wanted to have.

We exchanged pictures and fuck me if he wasn't one of the handsomest guys
I'd ever seen. He was 28 years old. His eyes were clear and beautiful and
his mouth was full and sensuous. And the thing is, believe me, the thing
is, he looked like my Dad when he was younger. My Dad was good looking but
this guy blew my socks off. He was like what my Dad would look like if he
were a supermodel or something. He had piercing blue eyes like my Dad, a
strong manly nose, and a muscular bulging chest with large nipples. The
picture he sent had his lips parted and his pecs bared and I swear I almost
shot a load just looking into his eyes. He was beautiful; he was a stud. He
had a sexual power that overwhelmed me. I would have done anything he
asked. I wasn't experienced sucking cock or swallowing cum but fuck me I
would have sucked him and drank his cum right then and there.

We arranged to meet at his house where he lived alone. I was nervous going
up his steps. I felt like the neighbors could tell I was walking up those
steps to get fucked by my own father.

He opened the door and I swear I nearly passed out. He was in blue jeans
and his package bulged out in front of him. He was clearly anticipating my
arrival and he was already hard and turned on. His lack of a shirt made me
confused about where to look. I'm a pecs guy (my Dad had gorgeous muscular
pecs with large nipples and to this day that turns me on more than anything
else) and his pecs were powerful and beautiful. I wanted to lean over and
suck on his nipples right in the doorway; damn the neighbors.... But his
bare torso forced me to look down to that package and my cock throbbed and
engorged at the sight of his protruding crotch. I felt like falling to my
knees to worship his manhood. I had a strong urge to unzip the zipper in
those denim pants and pull them down and swallow his cock whole.

I was stunned by his muscular body and awed by his beauty. But then I
looked up into his eyes and my heart started thumping and my mouth went
dry. His eyes caught me as if they had entrapped me. He was so fucking
handsome my mouth fell open. And his eyes, fuck me, his eyes, they were my
Dad's blue eyes...They were so beautiful and I was so fucking drawn to him
that I could not stop myself from moving forward and giving him a hug. And
damn... I felt him kiss my neck... his tongue licked me very slowly... and
he whispered in my ear, "It's good to see you son."

I almost came. I knew we were planning to play father and son. You'd think
that the age of 42 I would be the father and he would be the son. But my
memories were of my Dad taking care of my needs and he relished the idea of
being the dominant party. And in the fantasy world that we unleashed, our
ages did not matter. Suddenly, it was as if we entered a parallel universe
and he was my father -- my Dad as I remembered him -- and I was his son
just as I used to be.

He stepped away and put his hand around my shoulder. I'm short -- five foot
two -- and from constant workouts I was pretty muscular. He was about 8
inches taller than me. Enough to make me look up at him the way I used to
look up to my Dad. And he fucking looked like my father; it was -- it was
like -- he was giving me permission to do all the things I wanted to do
with my Dad that I never got to do. This was not roleplay. It was real. I
was about to have the sex with my Dad like I always wanted. My Dad and I
had jacked off together in the shower; I had experienced his hand on my
cock and the warmth of his touch as he jacked me off, kissing my cheeks. I
had felt my Dad's hard cock against my ass and the heat of his cum as he
shot his load on my round ass cheeks. But I never got to suck my Dad's cock
and I never felt it enter me the way it had entered my mom. Oh God, to
imagine his cock piercing me, to think of me on my back looking up at Dad
the way Mom looked up at him, to spread my legs, to offer myself, to yield
to his masculine power...

And now here I was. It was my Dad, his arm around my shoulder, his lust
glinting in his eyes. And knowing -- knowing for sure that I would not
leave this place until I had sucked my Dad's penis and bent over to receive
the fucking I always wanted. The die was cast; I was here; it was going to
happen. My own father was going to fuck me. I couldn't stop it now if I
wanted to.

"Inside, son," Dad said, smiling and pulling me through his door, his
biceps pressed against my back, his strong hand on my right shoulder.

About to cross that threshold, the magnitude of what I was about to do, it
hit me. It had been so many years since my Dad and me did the stuff, well
the stuff we did, and now I was going to be able to love my Dad the way I
wanted, to feel the power in his manhood, with all its warmth, its
strength, its throbbing power.

The heat of his body against my own was amazing. He was strong as he moved
me into the room. His muscular arm held me and his torso muscles danced as
he walked. I wanted to do anything but part from my contact with him.

We went first into the living room where he turned to hug me again, this
time with his lips just touching mine.

"It's good to see you son," he said again. And then he licked his lips. Oh
God his tongue touched my own lips and I got weak in the knees.

"Remember what it was like when you were younger?" he asked, his lips
shivering on mine as he spoke, his breath in my mouth. "You were telling me
how you remember it, son. Tell me again." The flutter of his lips as he
spoke danced against my own. His strong hands moved up and down on my back,
holding me close to him.

His lips closed on my lower lip, sucking it, his upper lip between my two
lips. His muscular pecs were pressed against my own and I found my hands
feeling his thick back muscles.

"We took showers together, Dad," I said. "We would go into the bathroom
together while Mom used the other bathroom and we would take off our
bathrobes and pj's. Sometimes you would help me. You would unbutton my pj's
and slip them off."

He enacted my memory by undoing my belt. Then he unzipped my pants and slid
his hands under my white briefs cupping my muscular ass cheeks in his two
strong hands.

He was kissing my cheek now. I felt his tongue on my skin and his hands
kneading my butt.

"I'm always happy to help you son," he said. "You know that," as he slipped
my pants down so I was standing in my briefs in front of him, his hands
still encasing my ass.

"What did we do then son?" he said into my ear.

"When we were naked you would turn on the shower," I answered.

He moved back and looked into my eyes. I was trembling, looking up into the
face of my young father.

"You know I will always be here for you," he said as he slipped off his
jeans.

He put his arm around me and led me out of the living room into the
hallway, never letting his eyes leave mine. I felt hypnotized,
entranced. His smile got slightly wider as he seemed to realize that I was
under his control. He moved his hand to my neck and caressed it gently as
we walked down the hall. I was in his hands, I was in his power, I was his
son. I worshipped him.

Then we were suddenly in the bathroom where he moved to turn on the
shower. He was faced away from me and as I gazed at my Dad, he slipped his
briefs down, revealing his muscular round butt cheeks. He stopped for a few
seconds. He heard me gasp at the sight of his ass and wanted to let me take
it all in. His ass was muscular, it stook out from his body, it radiated
manly power. But soon he stood up and turned around. His cock was thick and
totally erect. The cut mushroom head beautiful and engorged, purple with
blood. It stood out in front of him proud and strong. My own cock got as
hard as it could get and strained to escape my own white briefs. He stepped
forward, looking straight into my eyes as his hands pulled my briefs
down. My cock sprung out and touched his thigh.

We were both naked now and his cock touched my stomach while mine grazed
his leg. His lips were near mine and he said "and what happened then?"

The water in the shower was now steaming.

"You would pick me up and carry me into the shower," I said, in a small
voice, as if not believing this was happening.

"Of course son, I remember it well."

He was powerful and he lifted me up. My legs went around him and I put my
face on his shoulder. His hard cock was under my ass between my legs. His
cheek was against mine. He carried me into the shower and I felt the hot
water cascade down my back.

"You used to wash my back," I said in a small voice that sounded more and
more like the voice of a boy, as I remembered how my father used to wash my
back, my ass, my.... He set me down and turned me around. His hard cock was
pressed between my ass cheeks and I felt his soapy hands start to wash my
back and then move down to my ass. His hands were caressing and soaping my
butt and his finger-- God his finger, it touched my asshole. He was
stroking under my ass in that place between my asshole and my butt cheeks,
cleaning me, cleaning me, cleaning me.

My cock was twitching at the feel of his hand down there and then he said,
"Didn't I teach you how to wash here?" and at that his right hand encased
my cock. The soap was slippery and the water was hot and his stroke on my
cock was the most wonderful... It was my father's hand, washing my penis,
teaching me how to get myself clean like a real man. And then he was taking
some baby oil and coating his hands with it and rubbing it on my dick. His
cock was sliding between my ass cheeks. His left hand was between my legs
his finger grazing my asshole, his right hand washing my cock, washing it
like a good Dad, like a good Dad, like a-- his finger now slipped into my
asshole.

"What did I say the first time you came in my hand?" he asked. "Remember,
son?"

Oh God he was stroking my cock, my Dad's strong hand masturbating me, my
Dad's cock moving up and down on my ass.

"When I came..." I said.

"Yes?" he asked.

"As I was shooting, from the first time--" oh God he was pistoning my cock
up and down, oh God it felt-- "you told me... oh God..."

"Say it," my Dad said. And then, insistently: "Say it."

"You told me you love me."

I was on the verge of cumming, his hand was so strong, so soft, his grip
firm but gentle, his strokes perfect, he...

His mouth was on my ear; he was stroking my cock lubed with baby oil and
then he said it, he fucking said it...

"I love you son," as my Dad fucked my asshole with his finger and kept a
firm but gentle grip on my pulsing penis.

"What did you always wish I would do?" he asked as he filled my boyhole
with his thick finger, as the soap and the oil and the water lubed my
puckering opening, as he stabbed my asshole with a second finger, so much
pressure, so much power inside me, as Dad washed the inside of my ass with
his muscular Daddy fingers just like he used to and as he washed my boycock
with his powerful right hand. His tongue was in my ear, the hot water
encasing us both, and my boy cock was throbbing in his palm, my boy butt
twitching with the feel of his muscular fingers deep inside me.

"You know," I whimpered, as I felt his cock slip from between my ass cheeks
to between my legs. He was gliding in between my legs now as he stroked my
cock. My asshole was lubed with the oil and now his left hand was on my
right pec pulling me toward him. His muscular pecs were against my back,
his powerful left arm pinned me to his body. I was trapped by his muscular
limbs.

"Tell me," he said, growly slightly. His cock paused, the mushroom head
poised at the secret entrance to my body.

"I'm scared to tell you Dad," I said.

And then his lips were on my ear as he whispered, "don't be scared, don't
be afraid to ask, don't be afraid to tell me what you want," his cock was
pressing against my asshole.

"Oh God," I said, "I want... I want...

"Tell me son. I know what you want. I've always known. But I want you o say
it. Say it."

"I'm afraid," I said. "What if you are mad? What if...?"

"Don't be afraid, son," he said as his cock pressed against my hole. "I
already know what you want. And I want it too."

"I want..." I said, feeling the cock that made me putting pressure on the
place I am open.

"Tell me," he said more forcefully. "You know you want to. You always
wanted to . You wanted to tell me. Now is your chance--" as his cock
slipped into my asshole like butter.

"Fuck me," I whispered. His cock entered further, filling me up. The
pressure was enormous.

"I didn't hear you, son," he said.

"Fuck me," I said louder as his cock moved into me.

"Tell me!" he shouted.

"Fuck me!" as Dad shoved his cock in me up to the hilt.

"Fuck me who?" he asked as he started to slip out and in, out and in, out
and...

"Fuck me, Daddy!" I shouted.

"As you wish," he said, quoting the Princess Bride, the code words, the
code words I knew, that meant "I love you."

"As you wish," Dad shouted as his fucked my ass and stroked my cock.

I was fully in his power now, his cock pistoning in and out of my asshole
and his hand stroking my boy dick.

It was happening. It was really happening. I was getting fucked by my
father. I was becoming my father's boy.

And then he said it, the thing that I remembered the clearest:

"Tell me again what I used to say to you. What did I say you shot your
load?" He was fucking me in earnest now as his continued stroke my penis
with his oiled up fist.

I had just told him. He knew. I knew he knew. But he wanted me to say
it. He wanted me to beg him. He wanted me to surrender. He wanted me to be
his boy.

"Do you want me to say it?" he asked, as his cock slipped in and out of my
hole, my Dad's cock penetrating me, so I could feel its power, its
strength, its wonder.

"Oh Daddy..." I whimpered as he pounded my ass, his left hand now on my
shoulder pressing me over so he had full access to my boy butt, his right
hand continuing to massage my penis.

And then I could not stop it any more, I could not stop, I could not--

And as my cock jerked and spewed my boy cum, Daddy said, like he always did
when he felt me cumming in the shower, the moment the cum erupted, the
moment it coated Dad's hand, he said right in my ear, softly but clearly,
"I love you son" as I shot and shot and shot and shot and shot.

And his fucking went wild and fast, and deep, so deep. My Dad filled me up
with his manhood; I was the home for his cock; I was the glove for his
tool.

"I love you," he repeated as I felt the warmth of his cum shooting up
inside me.

My Dad was fucking me, fucking his son, and with each shot of cum, he told
me he loved me. It was as I remembered it: my Dad "washing" my cock and
when I came, each time I came, he confirmed his deep and abiding love for
me. That's how I came to associate cumming with my Dad's love. Cumming
meant my Dad loved me. Oh God he loved me. And fuck me if it did not make
me cum again to hear my buddy saying it, saying the words I wanted to hear,
the words I remembered, the feeling of safety and warmth and -- oh God --
love.

"I love you," he said as I shot my load, and again as the next pulse took
my penis, the semen shooting from me, each time I came, he repeated those
words. Just like in my boyhood, when Daddy washed my penis, I came hearing
those words as it was happening now after all these years. My Daddy was
washing my cock and like I always wanted his thick penis was deep inside me
fucking me, making me his boy, and as we came, as I came, he said it, the
words I associated with cumming, the words that were the very meaning of
cumming for me since the first time I shot a load in my father's hand ("I
love you") and I came ("I love you") and I came ("I love you") and I came
("I love you") as I felt him cum inside me, over and over until every time
I cum now I hear my father's voice telling me he loves me.

I shuddered in the arms of my friend, my father's cock in my hole, my
father's hand on my dick, my cum coating my father's fingers, his lips on
my ears whispering the words I remembered: "Daddy loves you."