Date: Sat, 28 May 2022 19:20:16 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Bachelor Pad Bachelor Pad Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com) NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit descriptions of sex between men who are related. Thanks to all the great work that the Nifty Archive does and the writers it publishes. Please consider supporting them with a donation. And take a second to drop a note to an author you enjoy - a compliment goes a long way. BACHELOR PAD by Bill Drake It's fucked up, but we didn't even talk about it for several months Pretty much every night my father and I were having sex, and we didn't begin to process it. Dad was living with me after the divorce. He was a high school math teacher and soccer coach, as well as a youth pastor in our church. Loved in the school and the community. Married with three kids. Until he got caught having an affair with a former male student. Matt Adams, a soccer jock two years younger than me. Cute fucker - Dad had good taste, I'll give him that. It was a hell of a way to come out. Apparently the two had been having an affair for a few years, back even when Matt was a senior and one of Dad's students. It was the town scandal, and Dad lost his job immediately. Mom was devastated, and I got a teary, desperate phone call from Dad, apologizing for wrecking our lives. "I hate to ask, Joe... but is there anyway I can come stay with you for a couple of days? Amy and Eric have stopped talking to me," he said, referencing my sister and younger brother. "I don't have anywhere else to turn." Maybe I should have been upset at Dad, too. I mean he did the stupidest thing imaginable. Matt fucking Adams? Like my whole hometown wouldn't find out. But I'm gay and had a tough time coming out. I could only imagine what it was like for a man my father's age, in such a conservative, religious environment. I'd been the one to move an hour and a half away, to the big city, to escape all that. My family accepted me in a quiet, maybe begrudging way. They'd be less accepting now if I took Dad in, but fuck that. "Of course, Dad," I said. "Stay as long as you like." "It'll just be a couple of days, till I figure things out," he said. *** It was more than a couple of days, a lot more. Dad looked like hell when he showed up. He still was wearing his normal button-down, pleated khakis and dad sneakers, but looked like a lost soul out of place. He gave me a long, tight hug. "Thanks, Joe... this means the world to me, buddy." I felt almost embarrassed. But I deflected by playing host. I didn't have a big place but tried to set up the couch to make it as comfortable to sleep on as possible. I showed Dad where the fresh towels were and told him I'd stock up on groceries the next day. That seemed to get him. He held back tears, but barely. I got the sense Dad was dead broke. Mom was always the one to handle the finances, and I wouldn't be surprised if she froze him out of the joint accounts. "Thanks, buddy," he said, mustering the determination to look me in the eye. "OK, if I get some sleep? You have your workday tomorrow." "Yeah," I agreed. Another tight hug, then I went to my bedroom. I was way concerned and wondered if I was doing the right thing. I mean, I didn't condone what Dad did. But I knew I'd want my parents to love me even if I fucked up. I was going to be there for Dad, even if the rest of my family stopped talking to me. Dad was already up and showered when I got up for work. The coffee maker was going and I saw Dad folding the sheets up neatly. He was wearing only a pair of shorts and I stopped in surprise at how fit Dad was. His thick ex-jock body was now trim, and I could see the muscle in his back ripple with his motions. The man had always had a solid build, and in my moments of self-awareness I knew he very much defined the kind of ideal man for me. But he'd clearly hit the gym lately, and watched his diet. I wondered how much of that was for Matt Adams, or other men. The view of the front as he turned around was just as spectacular. Round pecs, just the right amount of fur, taut core, kept from six-pack perfection only by the kind of normal padding middle-aged guys have. That body was incredible on anyone, but for 50 it was an achievement. "Hey son," he greeted, more chipper in the morning. "Early bird gets the worm right?" For such a stud, Dad could be hokey as hell. It's what worked for him as a teacher and youth minister. It was hard for me to square that version of the man with the one who cheats on his wife of 27 years with an 18-year-old ex-student. "Sleep OK?" I asked. "Like a lamb," he said. "I think I needed a good night's sleep. It's been a while." Unlike last night, the sad statement was accompanied by Dad's normal, positive demeanor. "Glad to hear." I heard the coffee maker gurgling from the other room. "Ready for some coffee?" I asked. I wasn't good for much conversation before my first cup. "Definitely." I wasn't too chatty, still waking up. After graduation, I adjusted from being a college night owl to a 9 to 5 schedule, but I wouldn't say the adjustment was easy. Dad kept up the conversation for the two of us, telling me his plan for the day, to go out and look for a job. "I'll get out of your hair soon, Joe, promise," Dad said contritely, his blue eyes having both a youthful vitality and grown-up maturity I hadn't seen before. I knew it had to kill him inside to have the parent-son relationship reversed. "You're not in my hair, Dad," I sighed, standing up and patting him on the shoulder. "Seriously, it's great to have you here. Maybe not the best circumstance, but great nonetheless." I gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I do have to shower up... my morning schedule's pretty tight. But make yourself at home." Dad nodded. "Love you, Dad," I added. I'd said those words many times over the years, but I figured Dad could use them now. "Love you, too, son." *** It took three days, but Dad was all smiles when I got home on Friday. He was dressed in his preppy khakis shorts and polo shirt. I wondered if he'd ever stop dressing like a youth pastor. "You are looking at an officially employed man," he beamed as soon as I set down my keys and mail and joined him in the living area. "For real?" I said. I knew it had been weighing on him, and I was glad for my father. He nodded, excited, like a kid. "Let's get some dinner and I'll tell you about it." We kept dinner casual. I wasn't sure of Dad's budget, and I reserved nicer meals for when I had a big date, which unfortunately hadn't been in a while. But we enjoyed tacos and a beer in the warm spring evening. And Dad filled me in on his job. I figured Dad was blacklisted from teaching, and he confirmed that he didn't exactly have the best job references now. But there was a landscaping company that needed strong hands. Dad fit the bill, and I guess his hokey can-do spirit paid off. "I start tomorrow," he said. "It's their busy season, so it'll be 7 days a week at first, lots of overtime." For a man committing to a grueling job, he seemed strangely excited. "The pay's OK... it might take me a while to save a deposit for an apartment here.... I took a look at rents here, wow... pretty steep." "Yeah," I laughed sympathetically. "But seriously, Dad, stay at my place as long as you like." "I may need to," he admitted. "But thanks, Joe. I don't want to make it any longer than I need to. You're a good looking single guy, you don't need your dad cramping your style," he teased. "You're not cramping anything, Dad," I assured him. "It's been a dry spell lately. But when I want to go on a date or whatever, I'll do it." Dad got a sly look. "Even the 'whatever'," he grinned. "You want to have a guy over, just let me know and I'll give you as much privacy as you need." This was a total 180 from the man who took me aside and told me quietly that my parents weren't ready for me to bring a boyfriend home on holidays. "Dad..." I laughed nervously. I wasn't used to my sex life being under my parents' scrutiny. Dad wouldn't let up though. He got that hokey teacher expression. "All right I get it... you gay guys sure have nice, chaste courtships these days." I laughed though a part of me wondered if Dad included himself in the "gay guys" category. And cynically, I thought he should have been a little more chaste, so he wouldn't be in the predicament he's in now. *** Dad was on his job almost a week before I took pity on him. He had back-breaking work, even tougher for a man his age, despite his physical fitness. Sleeping on the couch wasn't helping. So as he got the sheets out to set up the couch, I stopped. "Come on, Dad, you can share my bed," I offered. "Son..." he started to object. "It's big enough, and you need a proper sleep. Come on." I was too weary for an argument, this just made more sense. Dad acquiesced and followed me to the bedroom, us turning off the lights behind us. I didn't want to perv on my old man, but it was nice seeing him slip down to some snug briefs as we got ready for bed. Maybe I was imagining it, but Dad seemed to be appraising my body. I kept in shape and hit the gym regularly and was starting to get a trim, muscular build I was proud of. Dad's eyes made me prouder, even if it was a normal parent's assessment of how much his kid's grown up. We slipped into bed. I was tired after a long and ready for sleep. But Dad seemed more awake. "Thanks again for everything, Joe," he said, not mopey, not hokey. Just completely sincere. "Dad..." I objected. I wanted him not to feel so much in my debt. But he scooted in and gave me a hug. It was nice. The affection from my father. But it was more than that. His warm, muscular body. That soft fur. His masculine scent. I'd been working though some daddy issues, I guess. I mean, I tended to date guys my own age, but it was incredible hot to hook up with an older man. But none were as hot as my father. I knew my dick was firming up but I figured I had a couple of seconds before Dad would notice. Dad didn't give me a couple of seconds. He pulled back and his mouth found mine. I don't know if he somehow read my desire for him. Maybe he was just thinking with his dick, like he had with Matt Adams. Because we were outright kissing now. Lips parting, tongues meeting. Holy mindfuck. I knew incest was wrong, or at least very forbidden. But that forbidden nature just made me hard as nails as we made out and our warm bodies came together. Then, I felt Dad's palm cup my hardon in my briefs. This was not a tentative man. Dad was horny and very openly massaging my cock. I leaned back and watched Dad playfully slip my underwear down over my hardon, down my legs. I helped him the rest of the way, kicking them off as Dad got naked, too. My eyes widened to see his cock, my father's cock, erect and ready for sex. Still, a nervousness hit me, along with an awareness that Dad and I were about to cross a line we couldn't uncross. Dad crossed it for me, quickly leaning over and gripping the base of my cock to pull it toward his lips and right into his mouth. I watched wide eyed as my father blew me, bobbing his head up and down several inches of dick in steady, amazing strokes. I have to admit, I was never very much an oral sex kind of guy. I liked licking and sucking on a man a little as foreplay, and sure, I'd enjoy that treatment, too. But I'd never had a man who sucked me like Dad. Maybe this is what I was missing the whole time, I thought as I leaned back and felt his steady, skilled motion and suction bring me off. "Oh fuck!" I hissed and like that I was cumming in Dad's mouth, hard. Seriously, I didn't know coming from head could feel this good. It was a different kind of intense than fucking, and I knew I was hooked now. Dad finally pulled off, a proud smile on his face. A wicked part of me wondered how much practice he had. It certainly turned him on, cause he had a coating of his own seed in his fist as he relinquished his cock. *** I couldn't help it. I guess Dad couldn't either. We repeated it the next night. And again the following. It became a nightly routine for us. Stripping down, even past our underwear. Me throwing hard before I even got into bad. Dad as well, most of the time. Sometimes we were in a playful mood, sometimes it was matter of fact. We kissed briefly before sex but never after. We didn't really talk about anything, we just had oral sex. But each night we became more open about it. Keeping the sheets off. Leaving the lights on and the blinds closed so we could appraise each other. Then Dad and I would scoot our bodies together and make out. Not taking our time and not rushing it. In due time Dad would move down and start taking me into his mouth. Slowly, lovingly working me to orgasm. I returned the favor a couple of times and loved it. The excitement of having my own father's dick in my mouth was an incredible thrill. Feeling his cum pulse into my mouth was even more mind blowing. Dad seemed to realize, because once he came he looked down at my renewed erection. "You need another go, son?" he offered. I nodded and knelt up to offer him my dick once more. That became my favorite position, I decided. Dad's head propped back on a couple of pillows and the head board as I fed him my prick. The next night, I repeated it for my first round, silently gesturing Dad into place before we even met for a kiss, I knelt up and offered Dad my hard cock. The man's strong hands were on my thighs, telling me he was good to go. So I fucked his mouth for a deep, quick orgasm. *** I knew it was wrong, and I spent half of each morning going through my head a plan to stop it. Dad wasn't forcing himself on me, I could easily say no. But I was having the secret affair of a lifetime. And the damage was done. Dad and I had already crossed the line. Repeatedly. What was another blowjob, another kiss? Still, we kept some unspoken boundaries. We didn't talk about sex. Even at night in the bedroom, it was mostly silent communication between us. Outside my room, it was just me and Dad being son and father, even if our relationship had changed now that Dad was living with me. The man worked hard, I'll give him that. His normal hokey self was quieter now when he got home from an overtime shift. He was physically drained, and I gave him space. And he somehow sensed when to give me mine. One night I did mention something to him about his long days. "Overtime," he replied with a game shrug. "Been doing a lot of that this week," I observed. He nodded. "Yeah, Joe. I'll take as much work as they throw my way. Divorce lawyers are expensive as hell. At least the good ones." "Sorry, Dad," I said, regretting I'd brought up a sore subject. "Nothing for you to be sorry about, son," Dad said, getting that tone he'd given when he'd lectured me or my siblings growing up. "It's my own dang fault I'm in this mess." That night was the first night in a week and a half that Dad and I didn't have sex. *** I was a little down the next day. Maybe I'd become addicted to Dad's blowjobs, but deep down I knew a good thing couldn't last. Particularly when that good thing was goddamn incest. Emotionally, I wanted to see my father happy. I knew it would take him a while to get to that space, but I was glad to help him out. Indeed, the rest of my family was giving me the silent treatment. I'd occasionally get a terse text from my sister Amy, and I gathered she'd been designated the one to communicate with me. I was down about the whole thing, but I also knew I'd done the stand-up thing. I guess my mood had picked up by the time I got home, but it didn't match Dad's chipper mood. It was Friday evening, so I wasn't surprised to see him home before me, but I was surprised to see he'd already started on a beer. Growing up, Dad would occasionally indulge in one Bud Light when the occasion called for it, but now he was popping open a cold one like a real blue collar dude. "Hi there, Joe. Got paid today," he announced with a proud smile, nodding down to a fat envelope on the table. "Half went to my lawyer," he said. "But the rest is for you. Should at least cover groceries and utilities." "Dad..." I objected, taking a seat across from him. "I'm serious, Joe," Dad said firmly. "I may not be Father of the Year right now, but I'm not gonna sponge off my own son. At least not too much," he winked. I saw how much this meant to Dad. He'd lost his whole life, he didn't want to lose his pride, too. I picked up the envelope. "All right... as long as I get to treat us to dinner tonight." "Deal," my father said. He took one more swig of beer and stood up. "Let me clean up," he said and peeled off his gray-heather T-shirt from his landscaping company. God, my dad was hot as fuck, I had to admit. Somehow the manual labor had made his body even harder and fitter since he'd moved in. I tried not to stare, but he seemed to invite my gaze. Furry muscle that was getting more toned by the day, tan lines developing on his arm and neck. My initial thought was Matt Adams had been one lucky bastard. Then, I thought, more evilly, I was even luckier. Cause this was my Dad. Dirty blond, blue eyed math teacher with a dark side. As he made his way to the hall to go shower off, I popped a boner. Looking at my own father. I massaged it a little, teasing its hardness, then figured I needed to get myself under control and go to change into something more casual myself. Dinner was our regular casual taco spot. My father couldn't stop talking, but I was glad to see him in a cheerier mode. He even gave me the blow-by-blow with the divorce proceedings, but instead of the normal wistful tone, he had that fighter mentality I'd rarely seen in him. At least not in a long time. I didn't take his side entirely - I mean, Dad fucking cheated on Mom, and she had every right to be hurt and angry and unforgiving. But I also knew their separation was complete and permanent, and Dad needed this final break to move on. "Listen to me, talking your ear off, Joe," he finally caught himself, leaning forward. I remember being so attracted to him at that moment. His clean-cut youth minister looks, his hunky DILF body, his furry knotted forearms. "Tell me everything about work." I was very independent, almost defiantly so since coming out. I never asked my parents for career advice, but that evening I opened up to Dad, getting his feedback as I weighed the possibility of looking for a higher paying job elsewhere. I could see his reaction, visible if silent. Happiness I was bringing him into my life like that. I could see I'd hurt him by walling him off for the last six years, but he also knew at that moment he'd hurt me. A lot went unsaid that evening, but we just enjoyed talking, and Dad - Mr. One and Done - lifted up his beer glass. "Another, son?" he asked. "It's been a hell of a week." "How about back home?" I offered. "I'm driving." Dad's good mood was infectious, and even though it was still early when we got home, I looked at him with a smile. "What do you think of getting into bed a little early?" This was the closest we'd come to discussing our sleeping arrangement. Dad's eyes twinkled. "You bet," he said. With a lustful look toward me, he pulled up the hem of his polo shirt and lifted it off. There was that amazing furry upper body again, displayed for me. I followed suit and got an ego boost as Dad looked me up and down. "You have an amazing body, Joe," he said softly. "Perfect, really." I stepped up and reached out to touch his bare flank. His flesh was warm and felt great. We met for a kiss, the first time we'd kissed outside of my bedroom and that felt extra taboo for a reason. Dad and I made out, feeling a strange, stronger passion than normal. I almost didn't want to break our kiss, but I finally pulled and patted his side. "Let's go back to the bedroom," I said. Dad got undressed first, leaning back onto the mattress and spreading his meaty legs some. His dick stood straight up. It looked so much like my own, but clearly an older man's cock - hairier crotch, lower balls. I wanted to suck him. Slowly I climbed on bed and ran my hands up his calves and quads as he smiled down on me. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, Joe. Like you couldn't believe," he said. "Is that why you're having sex with me?" I asked in a worry. "To pay me back?" He shook his head, almost nervously. "No. I guess I've always fantasized about this... just seems so unreal it would happen." I leaned in and licked dad's nuts, which made him exhale a sharp breath in excitement. "Fuck yes, son." Dad usually only cursed when he was really mad. Or in bed, it turns out. I playfully ran my tongue along those furry testicles, getting off on the idea that they'd made the seed that had fathered me. It was a magical connection. I pulled back and stared at those magnificent paternal genitals. Dad erect, nuts hanging in perfect readiness beneath his thick stalk. "I've jacked off to roleplay porn... you know dad-son stuff... but it doesn't hold a candle to this." For all we'd done, it still felt like I was taking a chance mentioning this. "No it doesn't," Dad said simply. I looked up at him. A sexual look was on his face, but so was pure affection. This was fucking with my head in the biggest way, but I was gonna embrace this. Ever bit of messiness of fucking around with my own dad. "I watched porn like that too," he said softly. "A lot. Only I couldn't find much where the son's the top." The man seemed to shake with his own admission. My body was shaking now, too. I watched Dad question me with his eyes. "Yeah, I prefer it that way too," I said. Letting the words hang right there between us. Dad grinned and spread his legs and started pulling them back. His body hair is light colored and fine so the thickness of it leading from his balls to his pucker was a real sight. I leaned in and I kissed my father's asshole. "Oh fuck, Joe!" I heard and that was all the encouragement I needed. I started eating Dad out. Really going to town munching his hot hole. I didn't know how much Dad got fucked. I had a pretty good sense Matt Adams had done the honors. My goal was to make Dad forget Matt fucking Adams. The more I licked and tongued him, the more Dad leaned back and pulled his legs back and wide, giving me full access. Finally, I withdrew a few inches to visually examine the spit-wet daddy hole. Dad's voice was hoarse with need. "You gonna fuck me, son?" I looked up into his eyes. There was Dad, my loving father, but it was also like I was looking at a different man. Horny. Needy. A muscle hairy piece of fuck meat. A million fantasies clashed in my brain and made my hardon surge. I took my time lubing Dad's hole up. He just lay back and spread his legs and let me at it. "You've got an amazing cock, son," he hissed. I responded by nudging my erection into the soft crinkled hole and pressing right inside him. Holy fuck, this was incredible. The physical sensation of the heat and soft grip of his anus, but the mental side, too. Topping my father. For all the roleplay I'd fantasized about, this was a mostly silent fuck, me and Dad communicating with our eyes and our bodies as my thrusts slowly built up speed and urgency. He held his legs back and explored my chest and sides and that clear interest in my body fueled my own desire. As we fucked and climbed closer to orgasm, I savored every second. The evil part of me was now glad my parents were divorcing. Dad was mine now. That idea made my nuts boil over. "Dad...!" I cried urgently, warning him without putting into words that I was about to cum. That got a deep growl out of my old man. "Go for it, Joe.... fucking seed my ass!" I did, my lungs groaning like trampled bagpipes. I was riding the high of one of the best cums of my left. Maybe THE best cum of my life. But Dad wasn't far behind. Driven to new heights of lust he frigged his cock and then I watched, blurry eyed as heavy ropes of my father's sperm flew all over that chest hair. "Damn," Dad hissed when I finally pulled out and rested on my haunches and my dong fell soft and satisfied between my legs. "Can't believe we just did that." I ran my hands up his shins now that his legs were resting back on the bed. "Regrets?" I was scared of the answer but man enough to know I needed to find out. He shook his head. "Not really. I mean, I should, but... fuck." "Yeah..." I grunted leaning forward to embrace him. "Fuck." *** After a few weeks of Dad crashing at my place, we settled into our routine. We would decompress after work each day. And before bed, he'd ask what I was in the mood for. Or I'd proactively tell him. We got better with each other in bed. We knew how to turn each other on, how to touch each other's bodies, when to kiss hard and when to kiss slow. Best of all, we'd developed staying power with each other. We could go for a three-minute fuck, or we could stretch it out. Hands down, Dad was the best lover I'd ever had. We had our first fight, a real lover's quarrel. We had make up sex. A couple of days later we had a conversation about communication. It was fucked up. And every other week, on Friday, Dad would toss a fat envelope of cash onto the coffee table. Once the lawyer was paid off, the wad got thicker. "Don't you ever use a checking account?" I teased one week. "I'm worried you wouldn't cash the check," he admitted in a matter-of-fact tone. I nodded. Dad's pride was something else. But maybe I was stubborn, too. "Well, I hope you're keeping some money for yourself." "Some," he replied. "Spending money. But you're handling the expenses, and that's my share." When Dad first moved in, I found the role reversal between parent and child exasperating. Now I got a strange thrill out of it. I flipped through the bills, doing a rough visual calculation. Even if landscaping was a step down in life for Dad, he was making pretty good money. "I'll take out half the rent, and put the rest in savings for you." He nodded, acquiescing. Then he got a smirk. "You know, you're really fucking sexy when you're in one of your decisive moods." That caught me off guard. "Yeah?" Dad blushed as he looked into my eyes. "You bet. I mean, I'm proud as a parent, to see how responsible a man you've grown up to be. But it's also kind of a turn on." I gave a defensive laugh. "God, Dad, you sound like a chick." Dad blushed redder but laughed along. "I guess." Thing was, I was hard as nails. I stood up and knew Dad could see. He gulped, his eyes fixated on my crotch as I reached down and unzipped. Then he nodded and scooted to the edge of the sofa seat. I barely freed my erection when Dad was on it. This was actually our first time having sex outside of the bedroom, and I felt alive and so turned on. Feeling Dad lick my cock in preparation before taking me into his mouth. I hissed in excitement and reached down to stroke his soft dirty blond hair as he made love to my dick. Dad was incredible at this. I thought of letting him work me to completion, but I was too turned on. I firmly held his head and started soft slow thrusts in and out of his mouth, working my way to deep throat thrusts. This was incredible sex, and it made me feel alive. Like a full-blooded man. My thursts got more insistent. Dad could take it. I looked down and saw the fat envelope of money. Almost like I was man of the house now and my father was my live-in lover. That very idea had me cumming big. Dad choked a little on the ejaculation but then eagerly swallowed every drop. One he relinquished my cock I leaned down and kissed him, with lots of soft tongue. *** I tried to break the spell. Dad was visibly disappointed when I asked him one evening if I could have some private time. "I'm actually having a guy over," I admitted. Fuck, why was this so hard? Dad put on his game face. He forced one of his friendly grins, like if he were giving me one of his dad-son pep talks back in high school. "Of course, buddy. I'll head out for a few hours... maybe catch the Braves game somewhere." "Thanks, Dad," I said. Wishing I didn't feel like a heel. My trick looked a bit like Dad. Not a dead ringer of course, but I had found a guy on the app with a similar build and height and hair color. Carl wasn't a bottom, though, so he and I swapped oral before 69-ing. We made out some, and chatted some more in the afterglow, before Carl watched me stroke a second load out, encouraging me with dirty talk the whole time. It was nice, but it was hookup sex. Nothing like what Dad and I had. Dad came home an hour after my hookup left, quiet and moody. But he tried not to act out of the ordinary. I hated it. Hated that I had put Dad through that. Hated that the sex with Carl couldn't compare. Hated that I was in love with my goddamn father. We were watching some news on TV, but I muted it. "That's the last time I'm having a guy over. At least while you're living here." Dad seemed surprised. "Come on Joe, you're a young guy. You need..." I interrupted him. "You know what I need, Dad." That stunned him silent. He looked at me. Hurt, or maybe happy at my outburst, I couldn't tell. I reached my arm out, motioning him to sit closer to me. He moved over, and I laid my hand on his shoulder. His body felt warm and nice in the embrace. Lazily I massaged his delt muscle. The contact was giving Dad an erection, I knew. I'd take care of it later, but at that moment, after blowing twice earlier in the evening, I was less interested in sex than intimacy. "You're in really great shape, Dad," I said. "I love your body. So much" "Thanks," Dad said in reply. Then his tone getting more plaintive, "What are we doing, Joe?" "Having an affair," I replied. "It's gonna be hard for me to stop." "Yeah," Dad said softly. Then I pulled his head up into a soft kiss. *** I'm not a super sentimental guy. Not the kind of guy to remember special dates, or to plan special nights. I had one boyfriend break up with me for that very reason. But as summer was turning to fall, I realized it had almost been three months since Dad moved in. I made a dinner reservation. I didn't tell Dad. I was nervous he'd say no. We'd gone through a lot lately. Dad was getting promoted to a managerial position. He talked about finding his own place. We agreed it would be for the best, but neither of us seemed in a rush for it to happen. My friends thought it was strange my dad was sleeping on my couch for three months - at least that's what I told them where my father was sleeping. My younger brother reached out to me. We were talking again. That was very welcome and made me happy. But everything else with my family was the same. Dad slowly stopped acting like a guest in my place. We were roommates, having squabbles about who did what chores, but mostly getting along. Dad and I had gone from family to quarreling lovers to buddies. The sex was hot as ever, but we were both busier at work, so maybe it didn't happen as much as it did at first. But it was like we made up for it in our free time. It was the night before my planned dinner that I finally told Dad. "You have a sport coat, right?" I asked him out of the blue. "Yeah. Why?" "Tomorrow's our anniversary. Three months. I want to take you out." I was worried how Dad would react but his face lit up like a little kid's. "Not what I was expecting... but that sounds amazing, son." Dad cleaned up well, and it hot seeing his grown-out blond hair slicked down and his old button-down preppiness back for the evening. The restaurant I took him to wasn't crazy expensive but it was way nicer than the taco joint or the casual pizza place that were our regular go-to spots. "This menu's like Greek to me, buddy," he chuckled. "You pick something out I'd like." I don't know why that gave me a big bone under the table, but when the waiter came, I placed the order for both of us and ordered a bottle of wine. The waiter came and poured enough for me to have that first taste. I wasn't even sure what I was tasting for, but it was good. I nodded and the man poured us both a glass. After he walked away, Dad looked on with an intense affection. He raised his glass to clink mine. "To three months, son..." "It feels weird going on a date with my Dad," I finally said with a grin. I instantly worried I'd said the wrong thing. Dad seemed to know what I was feeling. "If it makes you feel any better, let's just say we're celebrating my promotion." "Tell me... why Matt Adams?" I asked. For all of our closeness the last few months, I'd been too respectful to ask Dad about the affair that had cost him his job and his marriage. Dad seemed embarrassed, but he also seemed grateful for the chance to talk about it. "It's hard to describe, Joe. You know, I guess I lived my life trying to do the right thing, and Matt... well he saw right through me. I was a middle aged dude, and this young attractive man wanted ME. Wanted me bad. It's an addictive rush." He paused and gave me a serious look. A Dad look but something else. A lover's look. "Just like you, Joe, the way you want me." I nodded. Dad was right, I was crazy attracted to my father. I figured it was time for a confession myself. "You know... I knew I had a thing for older guys, but I thought it was just a fad, you know. I didn't realize that the substitute can't match the real deal." "Damm, son," my father sighed. I rarely heard him cuss, and the words caught me off guard. He paused and I could see his face flush red. He was such an attractive man, still with a little of his boyish looks at 51. We shifted the talk more, going from small talk to life plans. Noticeably we didn't talk about where we fit in each other's future. It was too soon for that conversation. But the wine relaxed us both and we enjoyed the romantic vibe of the dinner and the heavy eye contact. I couldn't wait to get Dad home to fuck him. To kiss him. The wait was worth it. We were both in a great mood when we got back to my place. I actually thought I'd pounce on my old man once we were back home, but instead we slowly stripped and got into bed, embracing and kissing and feeling each other's bodies. We made out and got more into it, humping against one another. At last I was on top of Dad and his legs wrapped eagerly around my waist. I knew I couldn't wait long. I'd even have to skip the rim job tonight. At least for round one. I leaned up and started reaching over to the end table to root for the lube. Dad looked over with an excited grin. "I was hoping you'd want to be in me tonight, Joe..." I flipped the cap off and hurriedly slicked up my erection. "God, Dad. When do I ever not wanna? Every single time I fuck you... it's just incredible." My father's voice grew soft, horny. He leaned back and pulled his legs apart. "Pretty incredible for me, too, son." I was getting so turned on. Too turned on. "The first cum might happen too fast, but I got a couple in me," I explained as my slick cock poked at his pucker. "Fuck!" I hissed as my dick pressed into his hole. I watched the point of connection then looked at his hunky, hairy body, all strong and fit from his landscaping work. Then his handsome, DILF-next-door face. I sunk deeper in. "Oh shit son... get that dick up in me." He hissed out a heavy breath that made me think I was going too fast but he just nodded as he looked up from my abs and chest and to my eyes. "You've grown into such a stud of a young man." "Come here, Dad," I urged, leaning Dad and meeting him in a hot kiss. We made out as my cock bottomed out. Dad's strong hands clung urgently to every bare inch of my fit body. Up till now, I'd gone with the unspoken attraction we had for each other, the natural incestuous chemistry. But I knew that evening something of what made Dad click. He craved a younger top. I thought at first I just happened to be the lucky bastard taking advantage of that need. That evening, as I fucked Dad after our first date, I knew it was more. Dad craved a younger top because of me. I turned him on, and shaped what he needed from other men. I gave it to him. A long hard shove of my cock. Then another. Dad's firm body just softened in my embrace as he took it. "Yes..." he cried softly. "Fuck me son." I now held myself above him, supporting myself above him on extended arms while my hips powered with hard regularity into his receptive guts. I loved the power I had over him in that instance, but also this closeness, psychological messiness and all. "I love you, Dad, you know that." "Yeah, son. Love you too," he said softly. His dick rock hard. I thrust deeper, harder, as my pace picked up. My voice was heavy and deep with desire. "No, I mean love you like a boyfriend," I said. "A partner." Dad gulped and I heard a soft, "Me too, Joe." Our fuck was getting intense, physically as well as emotionally. As I pounded him, I was getting real close to orgasm. "We really doing this, Dad?" Maybe this was just sex talk, and even if it was, it was way hot. But Dad clung to my body like to a life preserver as his ass took the pounding gratefully. "We're doing it son. Fuck your boyfriend, stud. Make me yours." That last part did it. I lifted my head up and I'm sure had the tightest O face in history as my nuts jerked and fired off a heavy incestuous cum load into my father. I held steady then looked down to see Dad furiously stroke his cock, trying to get off with me still in him. I thrust into him again, aiming to batter his butt-nut more regularly. That did the trick. My father fired a heavy shot of cum straight to the headboard, then several follow ups that landed squarely on his upper chest. We were silent as we kissed and made out and as I slowly dismounted him. I was still hard. Not rock hard but turned on by the fuck and the taboo dynamic of the whole evening, the whole last few months. I lay down beside him and gripped his hand. His fingers curled around mine, grateful for the affectionate gesture. I looked over at my dad. "Did we just get carried away or was that for real?" I asked. "A bit of both," Dad admitted, a pearly white smile and dimples showing for me. He then lay back and looked straight up to the ceiling while the implications sunk in. "But fuck, I don't even know how it would happen. What we'd tell people." I loved the way his arms rested behind his head, showing of the dense, dark-blond armpit fur. I patted his thigh. "Let me handle that," I said. Something about my father sent me into protector mode. Dad looked over at me, surprised. "How?" "I don't know, Dad. We'll think of something." I felt called out, having to admit I didn't really have a decisive plan. "I think I'm dreaming," he smiled. I looked at his body head to toe. Naked, well fucked, mine. My dick twitched. "I feel the same," I said. "But you're really my boyfriend, aren't you, Dad?" My words elicited a low growl from him and made his cock rise up, improbably. "Shit," he gasped. "I really fucking am." I scooted up against the pillow, showing off my hardon. "Well your boyfriend has a crazy sex drive." Dad turned over on his side and ran his fingers up and down my boner, looking up to my face. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Joseph." Dad called me Joseph only when he was mad or in a playful mood. I used to hate my full name, but I liked the way it sounded from his lips. With a casual movement, Dad straddled my lap and reached back to guide me back into his warm, wet dadhole. "You know, Joseph..." he said as he sank down on me. "What you're a parent, you always feel proud of your kids, even taking credit for things you're not responsible for." It was a strangely normal thing to say as his soft, wet guts descended toward my lap. "Yeah?" I replied, lust making my voice break. Dad's lips curled to a grin. "But this cock... this beautiful cock.... I made it, didn't I Joseph?" Holy fuck, it was a wicked thing to say and had my dick twitching inside Dad's ass. "Yeah, you did, Dad.... made your son's horny cock." *** The next morning Dad got up early, before me, even on his rare day off. For all that he'd changed he was still the upbeat youth minister type, and as I walked into the kitchen in my boxer briefs it was like time hadn't changed. There was Dad in his polo shirt and khaki shorts and dad sneakers, reading the TV with the sound muted and having a cup of coffee. "Morning, Joe," he greeted. "Coffee's fresh if you want some." "Thanks," I said in a half mumble and pulled a mug out of the cabinet. I half expected Dad's gaze to follow my body, like he often did. Lusting after me. But that morning he looked on very much with a fatherly expression. Some concern behind his chipper demeanor. "You're up and dressed early," I finally observed after a few sips of coffee. "Yeah," he said in a sigh. "Joseph... we gotta talk." A pit formed in my stomach. I was even hoping the coffee would stay down. "God, I went too far last night, didn't I?" Wanting to head Dad off at the pass in the what-the-fuck-were-we-thinking game. He shook his head and gave an impish smile. "Oh no... I mean, yeah we absolutely went too far, both of us, but I meant it.... Only, Joe, we can't live together... I can be your boyfriend, but we can't live together." "Oh," I said, not disappointed in his words but definitely surprised. I realized then he'd rehearsed some of his speech, maybe multiple versions of it, as he waited for me to wake up. "Your friends are already thinking you've let me overstay my welcome, and if I live you with you, it's gonna seem strange. I don't know," he continued. "I think we'll be able to be closer if it looks like we're living our own lives, you know?" God, Dad was right. "I guess I'm a lousy roommate, too," I quipped, with a smile telling him I was OK with the idea. "The worst," Dad chuckled. "Honestly, that's been the toughest part. I guess I kind of got used to bossing you around when you lived at home, and it was hard to see the tables turned." I hadn't thought of that, but it would explain our quarrels around basic household stuff. "So... you're getting your own place?" Dad nodded and leaned back in the bar stool, spreading his legs. He was so fucking handsome, and my heart fluttered just taking in his looks. "Going out apartment hunting today. I'll try to find a place close by... I'm serious about what I said, Joe... I want us to be boyfriends. For real." I threw hard in my underwear at those words, and I knew Dad could see. But I tried not to make the moment about sex. I stepped up to my father and softly held his sides and leaned in for a kiss. I tried to make it the best kiss I'd ever given him. Soft, skilled, and patient. His tongue slipped back against mine, silky soft and wet. "We're really doing this aren't we?" I asked. Repeating the question from last night but it felt even more real now. "Yeah, kiddo, we are," Dad grinned and reaching down to cup my hardon. He looked down between us then back up to my face. "Would my boyfriend like a blow job?" I nodded, feeling thrilled and naughty and emotional all at once. "I would... David," I said, trying out Dad's first name for the first time. That got a soft growl out of the man. "Fuck, Joseph," he hissed, roughly pulling down my briefs and letting my hard son dick plop out. I stepped back to give Dad room to crouch down in front of me. Since we discovered fucking, we'd been doing oral less. Or at least Dad had been going down on me less. But I still loved it, loved the act and loved the feel of his mouth on my dick. In the matter of a few months he'd gotten even more skilled at it, somehow. I settled in my stance, legs spread and let my father do his magic. Up and down, slowly at first then more steadily bobbing and milking my cock with his throat. And the sight of him, silvery-blond hair, summer tan, his preppy-dad attire... it had me giving it up hard, as I fed Dad his breakfast in liquid form. The man gulped hungrily, audibly swallowing my seed and slurping my cock. It was beautiful. "God, I love your cum," he said excitedly as he stood back up. He seemed surprised to see me crouch down now. I wasn't always the best at reciprocation and with Dad there was this dynamic where I fed off his bottom vibe. But I wanted to suck my father's dick right then. My boyfriend's dick. I undid his shorts and fished out his hard prick. "Oh fuck son..." Dad growled. "Suck my cock, buddy." And I did. Maybe I didn't have Dad's mad skills, but I was motivated to give him the best head I could, copying his technique if I had to. It seemed to work. As I held on to his meaty ass and bobbed up and down quickly, I heard a choked cry and felt that dad dick grow steel hard in my mouth. And like that, I was being fed a million of my little brothers, straight down my throat like a shooter. "Aw yes..." Dad sighed in relief. We were both grinning as we returned to normal, me slipping on my underwear, Dad tucking back into his shorts and zipping up. "Want me to come along today?" I asked Dad. He shook his head. "I need to do this on my own Joe... if that's OK." "Absolutely OK," I assured him. "You know, I feel like we're taking a huge leap... it's kind of scary," I admitted. Dad was feeling the same way too, but just gave me that chipper youth pastor/coach grin of encouragement. "Hell yeah it is buddy... but I think we're ready for it. Maybe the world's not," he added in a contemplative tone, "But we are." He stepped up to me again. Maybe there was doubt on my face. "Don't worry, stud... we'll make it work." We kissed again, soft now, romantic. "Yeah," I hissed, feeling an optimism and a real sense of our future for the first time. And then I watched my boyfriend, my father, grab his keys and head out the door, but not before he gave me a final wink.