Date: Mon, 3 Sep 2007 20:30:08 +0100 From: enema champagne Subject: Dad's Study Incentive Dad's Study Incentive ::: Part 1. ::: by SonShine ----------------------------------------- Dad rolled his car into the back of the school car park under shadowing oaks. It was nine on the dot and the lot was full of empty cars ticking and popping as they cooled down. It was the first day back at school after the holidays; summer was truly over and the countdown to the Christmas break began today. I intended to spend as much of the autumn term getting stoned behind the recycling sheds as was humanly possible. 'Son, listen,' Dad started. He was dressed for work in a white shirt with yellow cuffs, deep red silk tie and grey suit trousers with subtle stripes. His jacket hung from a hook in the back of the car. He reached over to grab my chin and turned my head to face him. 'Listen,' he repeated. You've got your GCSEs this year, don't you.' 'No, I start studying for them this year,' I answered back moodily. Exams were just a way of testing your boredom threshhold. I watched his face, which was hard to read behind sunglasses. His sideburns were flecked with grey. The summer sun wasn't quite gone, it bounced off windscreens and bonnets and lit up the inside of Dad's car. 'I want you to do well,' he said. 'I need some kind of guarantee that you're going to knuckle down. How many exams you taking?' 'Nine.' I was a typical sullen fifteen year old, too cool to care about anything my Dad might care about. My hand found the car door. As much as school bored me I wanted to be out of the car before the inevitable nagging started. He'd been on at me about my grades for the past two years. 'Nine...' Dad repeated thoughtfuly. He straightened suddenly in his seat, leaning backwards, pushing his backside up off the seat, neck bending as his head reach the ceiling, and he slipped his hand into his suit trousers. What the fuck? I glanced about but there was nobody around to see. It was just me and Dad. His hand worked about for a moment and came out again as he setled back into his seat. He grabbed me by the chin again and held out his extended index finger of his right hand. He held it right up to my nose. 'Smell that? That's what you get if you score nine A grades.' His shiny black sunglass lenses fixed me in my place. I could feel his steady heartbeat in the hand that held my chin, and in my nostrils was the smell of a 38-year-old married father of one's crotch sweat. Let's just say you could tell he hadn't showered that morning. Musky, manly. Balls. Hairy balls and fresh piss. The lower half of his face was covered in thick stubble and suddenly I could count every filament in it. His thumb pulled my loose jaw open and he slid his finger into my mouth. It happened so naturally that I involuntarily began to suck it gently. My eyes were drawn to what could have been a length of pipe creeping down the inner thigh of his right leg. Christ, it was as big as a cucumber. The tip of his tie obscured half of it. 'If,' he repeated, breaking the silence. My cock rose in my trousers so fast and hard it nearly tore a hole in them. His finger was pushed right to the back of my tongue, almost causing me to gag. He seemed to know just where to stop. The moment stretched out, daddy and boy, sunlight, carpark, silence... and then it was over. He told me to hurry up and get to my first class. I felt my books in my hands, heard the car door thump shut and saw him wave, and I raced across the gravel toward the school holding my ringbinders of notes over my crotch, which stayed rock hard until first break when i was able to rush to the toilets and relieve the aching swell in my balls, cumming so hard against the cubicle wall it felt like an internal rupture. Time never passes quite as slowly at any point in your life as it does in school. A double french lesson can seem to span a fortnight, a school term can feel like a decade. Oh I knuckled down, and that helped time pass. My relationship with Dad didn't change over the following months; he never acknowledged what he'd said and for many nights as I lay awake, hot sperm dribbling its way from my chest down my sides to the topsheet after thinking about his finger resting on my tongue, my lips lightly clutching at it, and that long thick semi-erection in his trousers, I wondered if had even happened at all. Autumn, Winter, Spring. My mates kept bugging me to come out for a smoke in the evenings but I would only do so at weekends, giving them excuses about my parents cracking down on my poor academic performance. The rest of the time I read, studied, revised, worked on past exam papers. On my sixteenth birthday my parents bought me a new computer, I excitedly spent the whole day setting it up, installing, connecting, contacting friends on MSN and downloading revision notes on some of the books I had to read while watching Dad's broad shoulders as he moved the lawn beneath my bedroom window. In the evening he knocked on my door and told me I should get to bed. He sat on my bed and patted the space next to him. I came and sat, ever his obedient puppy. 'You've been working really hard this year,' he said. I could look him in the eye again, after months of feeling my heart in my throat whenever we spoke. Ever since he made me suck his finger I felt like a belonging of his that I had to take care of. 'You're almost there. Now that you're old enough, I thought your hard work deserved a little recognition.' I assumed he meant the computer. I started to say thankyou and to promise him i was going to use to to study but I trailed off. He stood up and turned to face me, his crotch level with my face. He was casual in cargo pants-style trousers and a fitted white tee. He unzipped his trousers and pulled them down a few inches, releasing a bulbous package hugged by smooth grey boxer briefs. Above the white waistband, the skin of his belly was carpeted in thick black hair. Between the short legs of his underwear and the waist of his trousers, which were prevented from falling by the angle of his spread feet, an inch or so of hairy leg showed. And there it was again, that warm musky smell of daddy. He was 39 now. 'Give me your hands.' I lifted my hands up to his, and he took them and placed them on his tight arse. My fingers spread open across the fabric of his pants and our body heat mingled. My stomach flipped over and my cock beat its record speed for growing hard, popping up like a flick-knife in my pants. His huge package seemed obscene thrust into my face like that. His hands swallowed mine, rough and powerful, not letting my palms leave contact with his pants-clad hips as he brought them round and pressed them to his manhood. His pupils blocked out all the light in the room and nailed me where I sat. His heavy balls and thick cock were now under my hands, kept separate by the thinnest layer of cotton. I was powerless to move, to speak, as I nervously cupped my father. Three distinct bulges, all pushed together and hanging there, hot and smelling of Dad, in my hands. He hitched his trousers back up and buttoned them at the waist, just under the hairy curve of his stomach. My hands now protruded from his flies. I wanted to spend the rest of my life here, like this. That thing about an hour you spend in school warping into aeons, well it works in reverse when your dad lets you touch him. The whole incident must have taken ten minutes or so but it was over in a blink. He stepped back and zipped up, ruffling my hair. He hadn't got at all hard or made a sound to suggest he had enjoyed doing this to me. He didn't smile and he didn't hesitate. 'Nine grade A's,' he reminded me. 'Or nothing.' He left the room, leaving me alone with the banging in my ears and chest, his arse looking beautiful in his cargo pants. There was no trace of him on my hands, no matter how delicately I sniffed them. I wanked six times in the night, and each time I came it was his firm rounded bulge I pictured, his unsmiling face. I saw myself gently palpating him with both hands, palms coursing over the contours of his clothed genitals, not daring to go any further - to reach between his legs and explore the crease between his buttocks even a little - because he hadn't yet given me permission. I imagined him losing his composure and pulling me close to him. I imagined him employing me to keep him warm between the legs on cold nights. Paying me in deep lungfuls of his crotch smell. I wondered if I'd be able to fit one of his enormous testicles in my mouth, whether he'd let me keep trying until I managed it. No way both of them, no more than i could fit two shiny red cricket balls in there. I thought about my grades. They were getting better. I was getting fewer C's and more B's. My teachers were saying encouraging things for once instead of just bollocking me, and some even asked if I was buying answers off the internet. But buying answers wouldn't help me pass those exams. It would be summer soon. I'd really have to concentrate to raise my grades and keep them high. Maybe I could do this. My hand crept over to rest on my sensitive groin and, like the rest of me, fell asleep. ------------------------ ------------ ----- If you enjoyed this story give me a shout at champagne.enema@gmail.com (it's just a name, I don't douche with Cristal) and tell me what you liked or what you want to happen next. I think it's going to be at least a 3 parter. I'm 22 and I live in the UK. thanks ss.