Date: Tue, 14 Nov 2006 17:00:56 -0600
From: jdhylton@gmail.com
Subject: Daddy? (Gay Male Incest)

My first short story. Please send comments to jdhylton@gmail.com.

I awake with a start. The dream slowly fades away; leaving me sweaty,
shaky, needy. The hunger is back. No matter how hard I try, I'm never able
to fight it for long. My hand reaches towards my 14 year old hard cock. I
try, but it's not enough. I need it. I want it.

Without thinking, I pull the covers away. I have no ability to stop it. I
hate myself but know that there is no other release, no other outlet.

My erection grows stronger, pulling my skin so tight that the pain becomes
its own entity. A being with its own desires that will not rest until it
gets what it wants. And it knows where to go.

I slowly make my way to his bedroom where release awaits. I have to move
quietly, lest I wake her up. She can never know.

I stand outside his bedroom door, empty. Without realizing I'd moved, the
door begins to open. The smell, his smell, engulfs me. The tension I hold
within grows even tighter. My dick hurts. My breath labors. I have to be
quiet. I can hear my heart beating.

He sleeps on the far side of the bed, facing away from her. On his side,
slightly snoring. I get on my knees, my legs too weak to trust. I can't be
too careful. My body is quivering.

Almost there. Not long now.

My face is next to his. I watch him breathe, smell his breath. So manly.
The one who created me.

My hand reaches slowly under the cover. The warmth is there. I feel the
hair on his chest, on his stomach. Down even further.

His boxers are taught against his stomach. I am careful not to pull any
elastic. Instead, my hand grazes the top of his underwear and continues to
move to the piss slit. The opening. What I'm after.

My fingers are cold so I wait for them to warm up next to his body. So much
heat he puts out. How can my hands be so cold next to this. Soon, they
warm.

I snake my fingers into the opening. I feel his pubic hair, so thick, so
masculine. Carefully, I find the base of his dick. I use two fingers to
feel the soft skin. I can't stand it so I gently massage the base; up and
down, up and down. I know it's dangerous but I cannot stop myself.

Life. I feel blood begin to pour into his organ. I feel a twitch and stop
all motion, breathing. Stillness. I continue as his dick grows to its
natural thickness. The head strains against the fabric but soon finds it
way out. It wants me. I want it.

His dick has grown large enough for me to wrap my entire hand around with
room to spare. I continue to rub him, to feel him, to smell him, to take
him. He is powerless in his sleep. He stops snoring and a slight moan
escapes his lips. It's too much. I imagine so many things. Things he can do
to me, ways he can take me, taste me. All of it for him, for us.

My hand grows sweaty from the heat of thought, precum slides down the head
of his tool. This is what I crave. This is what I need.

I move the covers away, exposing his rock hard dick. Him. I need to taste
it. I need to be closer. I need to smell it.

My mouth opens on its own, my head leans in with no other thought than to
feel him in my mouth. Everything else fades away.

My tongue touches the head; I taste the precum. I'm tasting him. Taking
part of him inside me.

Ouch! A hand grabs my head and pulls me away. What?

I look up and he's staring at me. I've never seen that look on his face. I
am caught. What is he thinking? I gag on fear.

Daddy?