Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2004 09:40:44 -0700 (PDT)
From: Raoul <desertson4dad@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dad's Home

It wasn't until my parents divorced that my father -
a handome 54 year old man, tall dark olive skin and
mustache, moved into the guestroom on the other side
of the house.  He left his clothes in the original
master bedroom but didn't want to sleep there any
longer for obvious reasons he had told me.  But that's
all he had told me.  I was then continuously horny 20
year old home for the summer from college.  My mom had
gone back to live in Rome where they had originally
met and my father decided to stay on in the U.S. here
in Miami.

Naturally, if I am writing this story it's because I
craved him.  Not, scratch that -I fantasized and
spilled more cum over my own father than anyone I
know.  And I would do audacious things, too.  When he
was not home, I would wear his dirty underwear and go
into the garage and climb his bike - his huge Honda -
and get off.  I'd wear his biker boots naked and jack
off looking at myself in the mirror, imagining me at
his feet looking up at him and his huge erection.  I
wanted to be the one who could satisfy and serve him
and I had sworn to myself that before the summer was
over, I'd fulfill my fantasy.

Again, if I'm writing this, it's because I'm not dead.
He hasn't killed me.  He could have, easily, when he
walked in on me on one of my delirious jack off
sessions with his boots - but instead, he just watched
silently and I - kinowing he was looking - kept it up.
I was sitting on the stool in his walk in closet when
this happened, naked, pinching my nippled, caressing
myself and saying things like, "Yeah, dad ... fuck
you're so hot, man ... let me lick your boots, dad ...
shit you turjn me on, you're making my ass drip ..."
when I saw the reflection of his shadow in the mirror.
I siezed my chance and kept it up.  I took off one
boot and threw it on the floor.  And then I took off
the other and got on all fours, making sure to stretch
my fleshy hole to him; that done, I started to lick
his boots and to kiss them.  "Fuck dad, make me you're
servant, man.  Let me satisfy you ..."

"Well, you can start by blowing my rod," I finally
heard him speak.  I pretended to be shocked as I
turned around, still on my knees, to see his mighty
cock sticking straight out of his zipper.  "'You can
start with this and then when I get used to it, we'll
go further ..."

Without a word, I made my way over to him and very
lovingly kissed his cock.  I looked at it, stroked it,
rubbed it against the side of my face, looking up at
him from time to time.... he would shut his eyes and
throw his head back in pleasure as he stood there,
legs apart, cock freed from his pants, with me his son
at his feet about to blow him and swallow his semen.

Because that's what I really craved: the taste of his
cum.  Made me harder than all hell knowing that in
about five minutes, I would swallow my father's
freakin' cum.  That in less than fifteen, I would
convince him to piss on me on the shower and let me
swallow the urine inside his body.  That after that, I
would watch as he would walk over to the couch with a
towel around his waist - a skimpy black towel - sit
down, light up a cigarette and then ask me  to "come
over here so that we cann have a little talk ..;"
fuck the little talk, dad.  I want to munch on your
hole as  you smoke.  I want to kneel in front of you,
have you put your feet on my shoulders, lay back and
let me please your anus ....

.../...
More to come