Date: Mon, 24 Mar 2008 15:25:46 -0700 (PDT) From: Scorpiojames@yahoo.com Subject: At the Old House Disclaimer: This story is the property of the author and cannot be reproduced without permission. It is meant to be read and enjoyed only by adults Author's note: This is a continuation of my story "Smoking and Stroking." I would like to dedicate it to MPS for his friendship and support. At the Old House It was getting dark earlier and earlier each day. Daylight saving's had ended and now when I left school, it was dusk. By the time I got to our old house to wait for my dad, it was dark. I didn't mind all that much. People had begun to put lights on their houses and decorate for Christmas, so it was rather pretty walking along, looking at the sparkling lights in bushes, around windows and up tree trunks. What did bother me, of course, was the cold! There are days when arctic winds from Canada swoop down on Michigan and chill you to the bone. Some days I felt like I never got warm. I would normally walk to the house I'd grown up in and wait for my Dad to come pick me up. My family had moved to a new house in a new suburb, but I wanted to finish out my last year of Junior High school and then transfer to the High School of the city where we now lived. My parents didn't seem to mind. In fact, they seemed happy about it. And since our old house was still on the market and was sitting empty, it seemed the perfect place to go after school, do my homework and wait for my Dad. Of course, being alone and being a teenager, I also spent a lot of time there jerking off. One of the first things I did when I'd walk into the house was turn up the heat. The thermostat was kept pretty low when no one was there, so I often turned it up quite high when I walked in and then would wait anxiously for it kick in so I could stand near a vent and bathe in the warm air. But, while I waited, I would go the fridge and get a can of pop, take off my coat and plop down into one of the two chairs that furnished the entire house. Then I would do something I'd been waiting all day to do: have a cigarette. My dad left packs of cigarettes around - "Just in case," he'd say. So there was often a pack or two at the old house. There was something about them, and about smoking, that I just loved. I would take a cigarette out of the pack, put it to my lips and light it with the matches tucked into the plastic of the cigarette box. I would take a big drag, take the cigarette from my lips and inhale. As I blew the smoke out of my mouth, my head would start to swim from the nicotine. That, combined with the quiet surrounding me, always had the same effect: my dick would get rock hard. I think there were a couple reasons this happened, but the main one is that ever since Thanksgiving, I associated smoking and jerking off with my Dad. My Dad had caught me smoking and stroking a few weeks ago, but instead of being angry or freaked out, he ended up joining me - in both activities. And over the next couple days, my father and I began fooling around, exploring each other's bodies and desires. As I thought about that weekend, my cock really began to push against my jeans. I had on both briefs and long johns under my jeans and my dick was definitely trapped under all that cotton and needed some room to breathe. Putting the cigarette back in my mouth, I began to unbuckle my belt. I undid the button and unzipped my jeans and opened them up. With my left thumb, I pulled up on the waistbands of both pairs of underwear and with my right hand, reached in and grabbed my dick. As I pulled it free and held it up, I felt the cold air hit the warm skin and the sensation made my dick jump. I pulled the underwear back and freed my balls and then, holding my dick in my right hand, took another drag on the cigarette and took it out of my mouth. I blew the smoke over my dick, feeling the warm air move over it. Then I sat back and just looked at my dick. Without sounding too pompous, I have to say, I was pretty happy with my dick. It was 7 1/2" and pretty thick, especially the area under the head, where the skin was darker and more sensitive. The head was big and smooth and there was a nice, thick ridge that ran along the bottom of it. I was circumcised, but the doctor had mercifully left me a lot of skin, so I could pull up on my dick and get a nice bundle of loose skin around the ridge and the bottom part of my head. Rubbing a wet finger around my head and that bunched-up skin could send me into the stratosphere. I continued sitting there, smoking and looking at my dick, for a while, not really playing with it, but enjoying it all the same. When I finished the cigarette, I got up to find an ashtray. I didn't see an ashtray around, so I walked into the bathroom and tossed the cigarette into the toilet. I flipped the light switch, more out of habit than anything, and was almost blinded by the bright light that came on. I didn't realize how dark it was in the house until now. I looked at myself in the mirror, focusing on my bright red dickhead, and I turned to the side so I could look at myself in profile. I began stroking my dick, watching my reflection, and felt that first wave of pleasure that washes over you when you first start jerking off. Almost instinctively, I bent my knees a bit and thrust my pelvis forward. Then I began stroking myself pretty fast. It took almost no time for that familiar sensation to begin building up in my balls and within a few seconds, I brought myself right to the edge of coming and then stopped. Then, pulling my fingers down to the base of my dick, I squeezed the base as hard as I could and watched in the mirror as my cock jerked and bounced with each pulse of my heart. I continued this routine, stroking myself until I got close to coming, then wrapping my fingers around the base and squeezing tight and letting the sensations wash over me, a couple more times. Then I heard a key in the lock of the front door. My Dad was here. "Hey, Kiddo," he called. "You here?" "Yeah, Dad. I'm in the bathroom." I called out. I didn't do anything, didn't move, and didn't put my dick away. I just stood where I was, with my dick in my hand, waiting for him to find me. "Hey," he said, coming to the doorway of the bathroom. "Oh! Hey!" Now that he stood in the doorway, he looked at me and realized what I was doing. "Hope I'm not interrupting." He gave me that smile, both mischievous and knowing, that I'd seen quite a few times Thanksgiving weekend. I could tell from that smile that not only was he happy to see me enjoying myself, but he was also interested in joining in. "No," I said, "You're not interrupting anything. Just having some fun." I turned so my back was to the mirror and I was sitting on the ledge of the bathroom sink. Now that my Dad could see me in profile, I stroked my dick a couple times, slowly, and looked at him with a smile on my face. He was smili ng too, and his eyes were glued to my dick. "Damn," he said, "That's a nice sight. I've been thinking about that quite a bit today." "Oh, yeah?" I asked. "About this?" And I waved my dick up and down and then shook it before going back to slowly stroking it. "Yeah," he said, quietly. "I've been really horny today. I kept thinking about that dick, about sucking it. That's all I've been thinking about all day. I can't tell you how many times I got hard at my desk." The whole time he said this, he just stared at my dick like he was transfixed. He removed his overcoat and threw it on one of the chairs in the living room. Then, coming back into the bathroom, he slipped off his suit jacket and hung it on the bathroom doorknob. There was a noticeable bulge in his pants, but before I could reach out and touch it, he dropped to his knees and slid his mouth over my dick. The warmth and wetness were almost a shock to my system and I bent over his head, overwhelmed with the pleasure circulating around my groin. He took my dick all the way in and though I could feel his lips around the base of my dick, the head of my dick still hadn't touched the back of his throat. I stood perfectly still, bent over his head, and he knelt there, also still, and the two of us let out low moans almost simultaneously. I put my hand on the back of his head and slid my dick out just a bit, then slowly slid it forward. Now I could feel his breath coming out of his nose and rushing over my bush. As he inhaled, he moaned again. Reaching up, he grabbed the waist of my jeans and underwear and pulled them down to my knees, freeing my balls. I stood up straight, still keeping my dick all the way in his mouth, and looked down at my Dad. To this day, I'll never forget the sight of my Dad's face with my dick in his mouth - his eyes closed, lips secure around my shaft, but somehow still loose and soft, and the look of serenity he had. Slowly, he began to slide his mouth back and forth along my dick, never pulling off completely and then sliding forward again until his nose was buried in my bush. He reached down and unzipped his zipper, put a hand inside and pulled out his glorious dick, which made mine jump and get even harder. As my Dad slurped up and down on my dick, I watched him tug and pull at his own dick, now completely hard. His dick was absolutely beautiful and I never tired looking at it. Like mine, his head was big and smooth, though his was more pointed where mine was round. His shaft was evenly thick all the way down and while he may have been a bit smaller than me, his dick was definitely a mouthful. Watching him work his cock while sucking on mine was always a bit overwhelming for me and within minutes, I felt myself getting close to cumming. "I'm getting close," I whispered. "Mmmmmm," he moaned, not taking his mouth off me, but increasing the speed of his sucking. "You want me to come?" I asked. " Mmmmm-hmmmm." He replied, and began stroking his own dick even harder. It didn't take long for me to reach that point of no return. I'd only been getting blowjobs for a couple weeks, and while the sensations were new, I was definitely beginning to understand what all the fuss was about. I bent over a bit and really began thrusting to match my Dad's sucking. I reached out toward the wall in front of me and grabbed a towel bar to steady myself, and I spread my legs as much as I could. A few more thrusts was all it took. Suddenly, I knew I was going to come. My Dad's breath had gotten faster and heavier as I continued thrusting my dick into his mouth, and we both were letting out moans and grunts as we took our pleasure. Without even meaning to, I let out a very loud groan, almost a yelp, and I felt the first shot of cum leave my dick. Waves of pleasure began to wash over me as I shot over and over and over into the warm, wet mouth gently holding my dick. . I continued to yell as each shot sprang from my dick. There was something almost painful about it, like it felt so good it hurt. My Dad had stopped sucking, stopped moving, and just held my dick still in his mouth as I emptied my balls. Then, as I finished, he let out a huge exhalation and slid his mouth toward the end of my dick. I looked down at his face and found him looking up at me, that same mischievous look in his eyes. He had definitely enjoyed that. He made a loud sucking noise as he finally opened his mouth, but he quickly shut it, swallowed, licked his lips and swallowed again. And without taking another breath, he gently slipped his mouth back over my pulsing dick. The sensations were overwhelming and I jumped a little because it was so intense. My dick even convulsed a few more times, though there was nothing left to shoot. Those pulses of my dick were enough to send him over the edge, though. Almost as soon as he took my dick back into his mouth, he moaned, took a deep breath in and held it. He rose up on his knees a bit, slid his left hand just below his dick head and then gave a loud grunt as a big blob of white cum shot into his palm. Still keeping my dick softly in his mouth, he shot into his hand, letting his breath out in short bursts. Looking down and watching, I counted 9 shots. His hand was full of semen, bright white and thick. When he finished, he opened his mouth and my dick slid out and he sat back onto his heels. "Phew," he said. "I needed that!" "Yeah," I said, smiling. "I guess I did too." Still holding his left hand up and out, he grabbed my arm with his right hand and pulled himself up to standing. I moved aside and watched him turn on the water and run his hand under the faucet. Realizing what he was doing, I protested. "Uh" I said, feigning disappointment. "I could've eaten that." "Yeah, well. You should've asked for it." He replied. "But worry not. There's plenty more where that cam e from." He took the soap lying on the sink and began to wash his hands. I stood watching him, still wearing a shirt and tie, but with a somewhat deflated dick sticking out of his fly. It was a beautiful sight; one I hope I never forget. I pulled up my jeans and buckled my belt. He pulled open his fly and tucked his dick back inside. When he turned toward me, I could still see the outline of his dickhead and I reached out and gently stroked it. "Mmmm." He moaned. "Don't get me going again. I feel like I could go again. I told you, I've been super horny all day." "Nothing wrong with that," I replied, smiling. "Yeah, but we've gotta get home. Your mother's waiting with dinner." "How 'bout tomorrow," I replied. "Same time? Same place?" He smiled and grabbed my shoulder, turning me to the bathroom door and pushing me into the hallway. "We'll see." He replied.