Date: Wed, 02 Oct 2002 23:03:06 -0400
From: Fiddlecub
Subject: Dad's Winter Visit: Part 2

Dad's Winter Visit: Part 2

By Fiddlecub


I awoke to the alarm, groggy and grouchy. I never was a
morning person and wished school could start at, say, noon.
I hit the alarm button and rolled over.

Then I remembered.

The events of the previous night hit me full force. I didn't
have a hard-on, I wasn't fantasizing, I was just... me. I
tried to convince myself that it had all been a dream, but
it wasn't. I had a sticky cock and a moist asshole, and of
course the most telltale sign of all, my dad's flaking semen
covering my face like icing on a birthday cake. Some would
lick it off and savor the taste, yet I just wanted to wash
it off. Worse yet, Mom may see me in this condition. Mom.
Dad cheated on my mom ... with me. How easy could this be, to
face Dad, whose cock spewed a load all over my lips, and
Mom, who had been sound asleep, cuckolded by her husband with her
own son?

Yet I was definitely plumping up now. Dad had a big cock,
but I didn't know how big. I had never had one in my mouth,
so I couldn't very well compare. In the dark, all I ever saw
was its profile, throbbing and huge. But inches? Maybe 8,
maybe 9, maybe just 7 like me. I had measured myself from
time to time since I was 14, praying for more inches, hoping
for more pubic hair, and while God blessed me with a cock
thick enough to wrap a dollar bill around so the edges just
met, its length was, I thought, average.

I tugged my dick once or twice. I never had put my undies
back on, so I slid them on and looked at the clock. 6:40.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. How bad could it be, after
all? Dad had always taken good care of Mom and me, and I had
rarely even heard him raise his voice to either of us. Years
in restaurants had taught him how to deal with difficult
people in a civil manner. If Mom knew, surely she would
freak, in that "I will remain calm because I KNOW you didn't
tell me this" way. But how would she know? My parents'
bedroom was clear across the house, and she could not have
heard my groans of pleasure and Dad's cries of "fuck!"

With all this and more on my mind, I sat up, stretched, and
pulled on a shirt. I had only 15 minutes before the bus
arrived, but at least I had taken a bath the previous evening,
so all I had to do was put on some jeans and go. I realized
when I went to put on my glasses, though, that there were
still flecks of jism on my face. I went to my closet mirror
and inspected my face. It looked like acne cream after it
dries. I licked my finger and swiped it across my left
cheek. I tasted my fingertip and was surprised that there
really was no flavor. My penis stiffened again as I strained
my tongue to lick off the flecks around my lips, and I
smeared the cum around my face with the same moist finger.
Another look in the mirror confirmed that I looked normal.
Like I had never sucked my dad's cock. I turned and looked
back into the mirror. I noticed there was a hole in my
jeans, right beneath my ass, but I just couldn't bring
myself to care.

I mussed my hair, put my glasses back on, and flattened my
clothes. No washing up, no brushing of teeth, just me with a
sticky asshole, an acrid crotch, and peeling face. I slipped
on my socks and shoes, grabbed my bookbag, and poised myself
at the door. I waited two moments, breathed, and plunged
into the living room.

Mom, innocent Mom, was drinking coffee at the kitchen table.
I zoomed past, crying "running late!"

"I love you," she called, and I hauled open the front door
and ran through the doorway. I didn't shut it, I just ran.
And when I saw the bus pulling away from the corner, I ran
harder. It drove away, and even though there was no chance I
could catch it, I still ran and ran. I don't know what time
it was when I got to school, but first period had already
started. I am sure that I was called upon in classes, ate
lunch, went to orchestra practice. But when the final bell
rang, I didn't remember anything. Just Dad's cock. His slimy
finger in my ass. I was beginning to remember last night
fondly, but guilt tugged at my heart, pushing down my boner
every time it popped up.

When I got home, Mom was gone again, but I knew Dad was home
because his car was in the driveway. Excited, nervous, and
frightened all at once, I opened the front door and
attempted a nonchalant entrance. Dad was sitting at the
kitchen table, though, and any semblance of composure I
possessed disappeared as I proceeded to trip over my own
foot and land face down on the linoleum.

"SMACK!" went my hands against the floor as I attempted to
brace my fall. Fortunately, my solid belly cushioned me, and
I lay there breathing, not quite ready to move.

"Kev, are you all right?" Dad had already moved next to me,
and he waited for my reply anxiously. I propped myself up on
my elbows and looked at the floor. My glasses were sitting
there, surprisingly unbroken, and I slipped them on and
turned to Dad.

"I'm fine," I replied, and shakily got to my knees. He felt
my forehead with the back of his hand like I had a fever,
and said, "I think you are ok."

We looked at each other with this absurdity between us and
both started to smile. Our grins turned to giggles, and soon
we were guffawing. The weight was lifted from my shoulders,
and I felt relief for the first time that day. Soon, our
laughter died down, and we giggled a little as we wiped the
tears from our eyes. I was still on my knees, and Dad lifted
me up to my feet. He pulled me into his arms and hugged
tightly.

"I am sorry, son. so sorry." I believed him, knew he was
sorry, yet while I understood why he wanted to say it, I
don't think either one of us wanted an apology. We didn't
want to have "sorry's" between us.

"Where is Mom?" I asked.

"I told her we hadn't finished up our man-to-man talk
yesterday. She went to Nana's house."

"Dad, I don't. I mean, well, uuhh."

Dad chuckled again. Then suddenly he looked serious. "I
know. We need to talk." He looked at the table for a moment,
then back at me.

"Your mother and I loved you very much when you were born.
You were so tiny, after only 7 months in your mother. You
were so healthy though, just 4 pounds, but bright-eyed. You
had no hair or fingernails. I could hold you in one arm, and
when I held your head in my palm, your feet barely reached
my elbow."

Dad cleared his throat. "You were never a mistake. I have
loved you ever moment. And I love your mother. She is a
great friend. But I was only IN love once. With her brother.
Joe."

Uncle Joe had been the family's black sheep. My mother had 2
sisters and a brother, and I had never known Uncle Joe well.
According to Mom, when he came out, the family embraced him,
but rural Pennsylvania was not friendly to gay people, and
he moved to Atlanta in 1975. His funeral was the first I had
attended, when I was 12.

Dad continued. "Joe was a great man, funny, intelligent. I
spent a lot of time with him. But I was straight. I couldn't
allow myself to love him. And your mother was beautiful
then. She still is. I tried to love her with all my heart,
and together, we brought a beautiful life into the world.

"When Joe died, though, part of me died too. Your mom knew
that. and I emptied my soul to her. When I was finally ready
to move on, we had decisions to make. We knew we couldn't
pretend, but we also knew we had a child to protect, and we
vowed to stay together. For you. We love each other, but not
as a man and woman. Kind of like a brother and sister."

I took this in. "So, you are gay?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied. "I suppose I am. But I never think of it
that way, really, I just get up and go to work. I provide
for my family, I admire good-looking men, but I have never
even touched one. Not even Joe."

"But. how did you.. you know, figure."

"When I talked to Sharon's mom, she mentioned that Sharon
was upset after homecoming."

"What?!" I cried. "What for?"

"Sharon was upset that you didn't try to kiss her. You
didn't even hold her hand. And somehow, I knew that you were
like I was, trying to fit in but holding back. Warren isn't
easy for someone with those feelings.

"You have a chance. I couldn't let you hold yourself back
like I did. I don't regret one moment of my life, but you
can be you. Whatever that is."

Dad's eyes welled up, and I kneeled next to him. I put my
arms around him and held on. I didn't want to let go. He
looked up at me, suddenly vulnerable, and I wiped the tears
from his cheek. Our faces came closer and his wet lips
trembled. I kissed my dad.

All the grief melted away, and we embraced tightly, our lips
pressed together and our tongues slowly searching. Our hands
roamed madly, afraid to miss a single spot. When we broke
our kiss, he said, "I love you, Kevin. I don't know how or
why, why this way, but I do."

Dad stood and took my hand. His slacks were tented, as were
my jeans, the same ones from yesterday. He led me into my
room. It smelled like spunk, like it usually did. Today, the
scent made my cock twitch. Dad's leftover spunk.

He didn't shut the door, but gently pushed me onto the bed.
He covered me with his enormous body and we kissed again,
aggressively, while he rubbed my head and hair. He sat up
and straddled me, grinding his ass against my crotch. I
could feel pre-cum oozing from my dickhead, joining the
pungent leftovers from the previous night.

"Take your shirt off," he said, and did. I threw it across
the room while Dad pulled off his own polo shirt, exposing a
chest and belly covered with dark hair, smattered with gray.
I looked at his fur in awe, jealous of its thickness and
abundance. Dad laughed at my stare and playfully tweaked my
nipples. I stroked his chest and tummy, even played with his
belly button. I had never seen such a glorious sight.

Dad lowered himself back down and took my right nipple into
his mouth. I moaned and thrust my hips upwards, another gob
of pre-cum leaking into my briefs. He rolled off, still
suckling my nipple, and placed his hand on my throbbing
bulge. "Shit!" I grunted, and he kneaded my pecker through
my jeans. I pinched his nipples while he sucked. Dad pulled
my zipper down, reached through my fly, and freed my aching
dick.

"Shit, you are so fucking hot," he gasped, squeezing my cock
and moving his lips southward. His tongue and lips explored
my belly fuzz, my sides, and then my navel. He moved his
mouth towards my cock and stopped just above. His breath was
hot against me, and we were still for a moment. His beard
scratched my cockhead. Then he inched down again and faced
my pulsing meat. Slowly, he wrapped his hot lips around the
head and sank down.

"Fuuuuuck!" I moaned, unable to withstand the pleasure. My
jeans were still on, only my dick poking out, and he slid up
and down. His mustached lips pressed tightly to my
glistening dick, milking my cock. I had to be tangy, as last
night's sperm remnants were still unwashed from my pubes,
balls and dick, but Dad didn't seem to mind. I held his head
and began to fuck his mouth hole, my cock deciding the
rhythm. He sucked eagerly, his hands under my legs, helping
me thrust harder. The slurping noise of his mouth sucking my
stiff rod filled the room, and I knew I was close.

"Dad. shit, Dad, fuuuck, I am gonna shoot Dad. Dad!"

My father just accelerating his bobbing, and my hips thrust
forward hard. I could feel my full balls rise close to the
base of my dick, and my body shook. The ejaculation started
at my feet, went up my legs, and entered my asshole. It
rushed through my balls, seized my dick, and BAM! Streams of
jizz shot from my dick into Dad's throat. His lips continued
to milk as I screamed and fired missiles of cum against his
tongue. Dad valiantly swallowed one mouthful after another,
but even he couldn't keep up, and cream leaked from his lips
and around my dick. Still, one wad after another shot from
my cock.

Finally, the last dribble oozed out, Dad slurped one last
time, and he pulled off my dick. I felt as though my balls
had released a lifetime's supply of spunk and I sighed
heavily, but Dad just smiled and licked his lips.

"Tasty," he said, and I giggled, too relaxed to talk. He
tickled my belly lazily. I could still see the huge bulge in
his pants, though, and I reached up to touch.

Dad sighed as I massaged his cock. He clasped his hands
behind his head, and I took this as a sign to do what I
wanted. Mirroring his actions, I unzipped his fly, shivering
in anticipation of what I would find. I didn't need to pull
his cock out. it jutted out by itself, and I gasped. Dad's
prick was enormous, at least 9 inches long, with a purple
mushroom head, blue pulsing veins, and a thin line of pre-
cum hanging from the hole. I touched my fingertip to the
slit and brought it towards me, the string of clear cum
stretching, then breaking halfway to my mouth. I sucked the
end of my finger, savoring the tang.

But I wanted something different, and I think Dad knew it
too. I looked at him, winked, and turned onto my belly,
thrusting my ass into the air. I had only had my finger in
my ass. but it was all in preparation. I didn't know the
moment would come so soon, but I knew it would come. "Fuck
me," I whispered.

Without warning, Dad grabbed that hole in my jeans that I
had ignored that morning and pulled. My jeans split apart
with a loud "rrrrrrrrripppp!" My thin briefs weren't far
behind, and I felt cool air against my exposed ass. We were
both quiet for a moment, and suddenly I was unsure of what
to expect. Then I felt it. the very tip of his tongue,
against the top of my ass crack. He kept it against the
crack for a moment and then he slid it down slowly. I
trembled, his tongue bringing me a new kind of ecstasy. The
wetness reached my asshole and Dad was still for a second.
Then, the most amazing feeling I had ever experienced rushed
through me as he buried his tongue in my asshole. Dad lapped
away, even though it must have been tangy. My dick was now
fully erect, still poking from my fly, and I reached
underneath myself and grasped it. Dad packed my ass with so
much spit, it dripped onto my thighs.

Dad stopped tonguing my hole and shifted. "I am gonna fuck
you so hard you won't walk for a week," he mumbled. The bed
shifted, and I felt the heat of his massive prick against my
asshole. He pressed the mushroom head my asshole, and in one
smooth move, I had 9 inches of dadcock buried in my ass.

"YYYEEOW!" I yelled, unprepared for this onslaught for my
deflowering. Yet, years of shoving fingers up there had
paved the way, and I realized that the surprise was far
greater than any actual pain. My dick thickened in my hand,
and I squeezed it. Dad could only think of his own cock, and
he slid almost completely out of me, my hole almost shutting
him out. He thrust back in, filling me again. He covered me
with his body, his fur against me.

Dad fucked me in earnest, muttering "Oh god, fucking my son.
oh shit, yeah. take my cock up your ass. Gonna fill you with
my load.."

He fucked me harder, both of us in our pants, our erections
sticking from our flies. I started stroking my cock in
rhythm, and the squishing sound of his spit-covered cock
pounding my ass was joined by my "oomphs" as I jacked off in
time. "Oh shit, son. here it comes. Are you ready for my
load, boy??? Do you want it??? C'mon, beg me for it."

"Give it to me, Dad. Fill me with your load, dump it in my
ass!" I bellowed, my arm working overtime and my ass
squeezing his expanding cock.

"Uuuugh, shit, here it comes. here's my fucking load!"

Dad's cock stretched my asshole wider and he thrust forward
one last time. He shuddered, and his load began to fill my
ass. Dad didn't move, and a whine escaped his throat he held
his dick in me, dumping his cream. The image of Dad's sperm
shooting into my bowels was too much for my own cock, and I
popped another load onto the bed, forming a puddle beneath
me.

When Dad finished cumming, he collapsed on top of me, and I
in turn fell onto the bed. Our chests heaved in unison. He
rubbed my head and whispered, "I love you." After the second
cum, my dick had softened beneath me, but his was still
lodged in my ass, half-hard. In a few minutes, it softened
and slithered from my hole, but I could still feel it on my
ass cheek, the spit and sperm cooling on my butt.

I wanted to fall asleep that way, but soon Dad said, "Your
mom will be home an a little while." As much as I loved to
have cum drying on me and in me, I was a mess, so while Dad
pulled on his clothes and got straightened up, I cleaned up
the bed and put my shirt in the wash. My jeans and underwear
were now rags, of course, so while I took my evening bath,
Dad threw out the shreds in the roadside can, where Mom
would never look. After my bath, I got on a pair of shorts
and a t-shirt and helped Dad cook dinner. We played grab-ass
while we cooked, laughing and talking, kissing from time to
time. When Mom's headlights shone into the window, though,
we looked at each other, instinctively knowing that today's
play ended here and now.

I greeted Mom at the door as Dad finished setting the table.
"Hi, honey," she smiled. "How was your day?"

I smiled back. "Fine. Just fine."