Date: Tue, 14 Feb 2017 12:47:28 +0000 (UTC) From: a4f101@yahoo.com Subject: All For You Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime. You can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here: http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/136651006804/ You can also find a whole lot more of my stories here on Nifty - look for 'a4f101' in the Prolific Authors listing. This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2017. I own it and all legal rights to it. If you're under the age of majority in your jurisdiction, please come back when you're of legal age. Nifty is an incredible free service that depends on your donations to survive. It changed my life, and maybe it's changed yours too. Please help them to keep providing this awesome resource for all of us: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html I love hearing from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. Enjoy. ***** "Damn... guess it's high time I did something about this," I said, patting the hairy swell of my belly, seeing my shirtless reflection in the window. I'd always been a pretty big guy, with a powerful kind of build - you could still see it in my chest, my shoulders, my arms, my thighs. I guess this was the inevitable middle-aged spread taking root, the change of a man's body when he stops being an athlete, becomes a father, a working man, a guy who enjoys his beers but doesn't have the time and dedication to work them off again that he once did. It's not that I didn't like my body. I still had the thick pecs, the brawny arms, the thick thighs and hard, round ass I'd always had. Years of wrestling, from boyhood through college, had more or less set that in stone. I was still an active dude, too. But with summer coming up, I was feeling a little self-conscious at the almost pregnant-looking swell of my torso, under the thick dark-blond hair that had really taken hold in my late teens. I guess this was what the kids were calling dadbod, or whatever stupid term they'd come up with. "Bullshit," Cole said, tossing the dishtowel onto the sink and heading into the living room. Damn, but he looked fine. Beyond fine - at his absolute peak. Bigger than I'd been at his age, more thickly muscled and defined, like the young guys strive to look nowadays. A year-round beach body on the kid. Yeah, I can admit it - I was jealous as hell. "You look good, damn good," he said, striding confidently over to me, all big and shirtless, hair still a little damp from the shower we'd just taken. His big young dick made a handsome mound in his loose workout shorts. The kid was all handsome mounds from neck to feet, really. Bulked up and in his prime. He could have anybody he wanted, and I suspect he probably did. But more than anybody else, he sure as hell had me. He stepped up close, brushing my hands from my stomach, and replacing them with his. Big, strong grappler's hands, like mine. He stroked them real slow and light through the carpet of fur on the swell of my body, smiling to himself as he looked down at me. I blushed, tried not to feel awkward, put on the spot. Same way I always seemed to, lately, whenever he touched me like this. Since he'd become a big, hunky college boy, instead of the big, hunky high school kid who'd come after me so confidently, so determinedly, that I couldn't have resisted him even if I'd wanted to. "Damn good," he said again, leaning up and in to kiss my lips. Slow at first, but deep with intent and passion and slow-kindling heat. Horny little fucker. Even though we'd just spent a very sweaty, satisfying hour in his bed, making each other cum, I felt the slow, steady rise of my cock inside my jeans. Matched by the steady rise in his shorts, as I folded my arms around the V of his exceptional torso and kissed my son back. He grunted approvingly and slid his hands over my hips, cupping the powerful swell of my ass in my jeans, and squeezing. I'd tried not to question all this, not to let my head fuck with things too much. As much as it can, when you're balls-deep in a five-year-long affair with your own son. Committing one of the gravest sins. Wasn't easy, of course, but it had gotten better, and I didn't tear strips off my own ass for enjoying the depth of what me and Blake had, as father and son, and as lovers. But the physicality of it - more to the point, the physicality of me - was starting to really bug me lately. Clearly not my boy, though, who was pushing that beautifully musclebound jock body of his even more firmly against me, squeezing my ass, pulling our cock bulges together even harder, as our tongues slipped together warmly and wetly. "Guess I just don't see it, bud," I said after several slow, wet minutes of that. Running my big, work-toughened hand down the thick planes of his torso, tracing my fingers along the deep cuts of his abs. Both of us smiling, as he flexed himself up for me. Put his body on display, proudly, as he had every right to be. "You could have anybody you wanted. Not some middle-aged ex-jock going to seed. Why me?" "You know what I see?" he said, placing his hands back on my belly, sliding them up through the thickness of my body hair, up to my pecs, giving them a squeeze. Pushing over my shoulders, down the powerful muscles of my upper arms - "caveman arms", my ex, his mother, had called them, and it wasn't necessarily an insult - and sliding down to take my hands and squeeze them. "I see a man. A strong man. A man who worked his ass off to provide for me, bring me up right, give me all these opportunities I've had. A man who ate a ton of shit so I could succeed." He laced his fingers into mine, and guided my hands back to touch my own chest. It felt awkward, not something I was used to doing in front of somebody, even him. But I trusted him, and let him tell me, and show me, what he was feeling. "I see the big shoulders of a man who could pick me up and toss me up in the air when I was a kid," he said. "The big, hairy chest that I loved to press my face into when I was scared, or lonely, or just needed some closeness. I see the big arms that wrapped around me, that first time we really kissed, when you finally let yourself go with it, and us, Dad." I smiled with him at all of those memories. They were just as strong, and vivid, and intense for me as they were for him. The feeling of cradling him, holding him, lifting him up. And then, once we'd reached that certain point with each other, the feeling of pulling his big, hard young body close, and into mine, in a whole new, different, even better way. He trailed his fingers back down through the fur over the swell of my stomach. "I see the stomach that fit so perfectly up against my back the first time you fucked me... the hair that tickled my skin... all of this, all so strong, and thick, and full... just fuckin' perfect, Dad. All man. All of it. All of you." It was my turn to kiss him, because I had no idea what to say to any of that. The kiss seemed like the only perfect response. Cole moaned a little into my mouth, and pulled the big swells of my body back tight against the harder, tighter ones of his own. "I could fuck a guy who looks like me any old damn time, Dad," he said, and I had to grin at his self-confidence. "But nothing feels so good as feeling you... all of you... against me. Nothing, and nobody, makes me cum harder." "Jeez, son, thanks," I said, blushing, but pleased. "But I still -" "Ever since I was a kid, Dad," he cut me off, more quietly, seriously, locking eyes with me. "You, and this body, they're all I've ever wanted. First time I ever came, like really came, I was remembering the way you looked, and felt, and smelled..." Cole ducked his head, and nuzzled that handsome, cleancut face of his between my pecs, deep into the thickness of the fur there. Inhaled a deep breath, and let out another of those soft, manly pleasure sounds of his. "And then, when I got to really grab hold of these big, thick pecs of yours, and ride you... like a man does... jesus..." "Fuck, kid," I growled, and his eyes got all shiny as he nodded at me, mouth opening eagerly to kiss again. "Just the fucking weight and warmth of your body, all big and thick and naked over me, Dad," he said, all husky. "And knowing how much you liked mine. Made me want to get bigger, stronger for you. Made me want you to keep growing too. Not get all fat and stuff - just become even more of the man you were. Natural. Powerful. All for me." "All for you, buddy," I grunted, and this time when we kissed, my hands slid in back of his shorts, finding him pleasingly naked and firm and mostly smooth inside of them, flexing up the powerful muscles of his studly wrestler's ass for my paws to fondle and squeeze. "And all of me is all for you, Dad," he said, shucking those shorts, his thick young club of a cock snapping out and up, fully hard, already gleaming at the tip, as I let my hands rove over his perfect form, like he was doing to me. Sure, there was the physical - the incredible beauty of his body, big muscles flexed up, glowing with sweat, thick thighs bulging as he fucked himself on my cock and stared at me with a deep, lusty intensity I'd never seen on anybody else's face. The way he stroked, kissed, licked, explored my body all over, treating me like a goddamn king as I reclined against the headboard of his bed, or mine. The way he arched his back, making those twin thick mounds of gluteal muscle pop and dimple and flex as he urged me to fuck him. The way his whole torso seemed to flex and pop with even more definition, when he slid his big young cock up inside of me, and I saw even more of myself in the intensity on his handsome young face. But beyond that, deeper than that, I knew what we had. So did he. It was something deeper, unbreakable, a secret shared. Something huge between us, that was only for us. "All for you, Dad," he said again, back in the sweaty tangle of his bed, his perfect body looming over me, cock arced up hard towards his rippling abs, thick quads bulging as he lowered himself down the length of my thick paternal cock, taking my hands in his and guiding them to the muscular heft of his pecs. "And all of you for me, too," he said, reaching down to grab hold of mine. "Every inch. Don't change a fuckin' thing. Just be the man you are. The man I always wanted, ever since I knew what a real man was. You, Dad." "Fuck, son..." I growled. "That's right," he grinned, panting a little. "Fuck your son, Dad. Fuck me, big guy. You big, sexy, beefy bastard - fuck me..." So I did, with gusto, like I always had, and when I grabbed hold of his powerful thighs and pulled my old wrestler's moves, flipping him over onto his back and sliding up deep inside him with one long, powerful thrust of my hips, the look of sheer lusty delight on his face told me everything I'd worried about was just so much midlife-crisis vanity bullshit. "Aw you big fuckin' beefy stud, Dad," he growled, yanking my head down to suck on my tongue as he wrapped his strong young arms and thighs around me, pulling the warm, furry, sweaty weight of me down in him like a blanket, grunting into my mouth as he felt me press all over him, covering him with my beefy thickness. And I got it, at last - the connection between how I looked, how I was built, how I felt, and what all of that meant for him. It wasn't just my body - it was my physicality, the power of my flesh and everything it represented for him. "Hope I look like you some day, Dad," he moaned, eyes locked on mine, all shiny, his cheeks flushed, and I knew he was close to the brink. "Be a big, beefy, strong man for my boy to admire. Like you are." "You will, buddy," I half-growled, half-moaned. "Big strong stud for your own hot kid. It's in your genes. You'll see. Just like me, son." "Oh fuck yes," he moaned, and then he started to cum, creamy white jets spurting across the sweaty, perfect crunch of his abs, the big hardness of his pecs. My head filled with the taboo images of him and his own future son, my grandson, locked in a sweaty, incestuous pile of muscle and fur and flesh like this, and I was right there behind him. Picturing my big, hot son, all grown and thick like me. Driving his thick cock, and his father's cum, up inside the perfectly muscled body of his son. Spitting images of the big men who'd sired them. I felt the big, steely muscles flexed up hard beneath all my padding as I came inside of my son now, and the way Cole's eyes widened and his hands pawed at me, I knew once and for all that he loved all of me and my body, just the way I was. All of this. All of me, all for him.