Copyright 2017 by Jim002@outlook.com
If you enjoy this story or any other stories on Nifty, please make a donation at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Nifty needs your continued support to continue hosting stories like this one.
This story is fiction. None of the characters are based on real people.
You can see a list of my stories at the Nifty Prolific Authors page by my name.
"Would whiskey help tell our secrets to Harry?" I asked Dan. I knew why Dan was nervous, but things were different, here. Harry didn't seem to disapprove of Tom and his father fucking Joey. I didn't think Harry would be shocked, at all. Heck! If Ben found out, he'd just want to watch us, together.
I left the kitchen and went to the bar.
"Can I have a large whiskey?" I asked. George, the bartender frowned. Then I remembered Rafe told him I didn't want any more whiskey.
"It isn't for me."
George nodded as he poured. He handed me the glass.
"How much do I owe you?"
I walked back into the kitchen. I handed the glass to Dan. He drank all of it.
"There's no point telling a lie," I said.
"I guess not. And we can always move. I bought a homestead here, but it isn't going to work out. That's why I was late. I went to see it and there are seven graves right next to the house. The whole family died of smallpox."
"I don't think we should live there," Dan said.
"Why don't we just go to the hotel and deal with this another time?" Dan suggested.
I didn't like the idea of postponing things. I had changed. It was obvious to me. If I'd seen my father the previous night, and he'd suggested that, I would have been deliriously happy.
"What lie should I tell them?" I asked him.
"Will you leave with me, if it becomes impossible to stay?" Dan asked.
I didn't need to think. I didn't want to live somewhere that didn't welcome Dan.
Dan smiled. "Then let's do it!"
I got up and went looking for Harry. Rafe got up when he saw me. I walked over to him.
"It may be tomorrow before we can spend time together," I said, softly.
"Has he upset you?" Rafe asked me.
"No. He just...it's...about my father."
"Then tomorrow night?" he asked.
"I hope so."
"It will be a Christmas to remember," he said. "I'll wait an hour or so, in case you finish early."
"OK. Thanks, Rafe."
I kept going and found Harry talking to a customer. I didn't disturb them. I waited behind Harry. Tom walked up to me.
"What's going on? Why's the teacher here?"
"I need to whisper this."
He bent down.
"He just told me he is my father. He taught at the school to be close to me."
"Hot, damn!" Tom said. "Things are hoppin! I knew you was like Joey!"
"Do you have time to talk to Dan and me?"
I headed back for the kitchen with Tom behind me. I sat down next to Dan.
"So, Dan. Who are you?" Tom asked him.
Dan took a deep breath.
"My wife kicked me out of my own house," Dan started. "We were having a fight about sex. I wanted it and she didn't."
"That's an old story," Tom said.
Dan turned to me.
"The whole time we were married, we had sex twice," Dan said.
"Oh, shit!" Tom said.
"I told her if she wasn't going to meet my needs, I would find a woman on Michigan Avenue who would. A prostitute. I took a long walk. When I got back home, all my clothes and a lot else was on the lawn. She never let me back into the house, again. She wouldn't let me see you, even. One of our neighbors, Roger Copland found out and invited me to live with him."
"He's the one who told me he knew where you were," I said.
"Right. He did. I thought if I was living with him, I could see you out playing and talk to you. So I lived with Roger. I was complaining, as usual about a lack of sex. Roger got me drunk and sucked me. Lord! He was good at it. I think my toes curled."
Tom laughed. I was in shock.
"Roger sucked me again later that evening. I loved it. I loved it so much I never once considered stopping what we were doing. Roger loved my meat and I never withheld it from him. He kept asking whether he could do it. It was someone else begging me for sex, instead of me begging your mother for it. That alone was satisfying. Finally, I told him he didn't need to ask. I gave him permission to enjoy my pecker whenever he wanted. He could just take it out and suck it or stroke it whenever he felt like it. You'd think I'd given him the most wonderful gift! One evening, when Roger was sucking me for the third time that day, I wondered why the hell I would ever want to have sex with a woman, again. Why beg your mother for sex, when a friend would give you as much sex as you wanted? Eventually, Roger convinced me to try other things. I fucked him and I enjoyed it, but I much preferred looking at his mouth than his ass. I even got drunk once and sucked him, but I didn't enjoy that.
"I started a beard as soon as I moved in with Roger. Your mother saw me several times, but didn't recognize me."
"How is that possible?" I asked.
"Some women see only what they want to see," Tom said.
Dan nodded his head.
"That's the truth. Anyway, I was a teacher at the school at the end of our street. One day Roger told me that the neighborhood gossip was that your mother was sending you to Christopher Academy. I applied there for a teaching job and got hired. I moved there to live. Teachers didn't have to pay tuition on their own children and my plan was for you to go there. I could spend time with you. I sent your mother a letter from Roger's house—"
I started laughing.
"I wonder how long it took the postman to take it to the other end of the block!" I said.
"I told her I wanted you to go there and that I would pay for your education. I acted like I needed to convince her and pointed out the benefits. She sent me a reply that said only one word. 'Agree'. So you started school there. Your tuition was free because I taught there. Only three people at the school knew you were my son. I had to keep it from you. I got to see you every day and I got to watch you grow up. When you were eleven, I caught you looking at my crotch when we were alone together. It made me hard knowing you were interested in my meat."
"And I finally got the nerve to ask you if I could see your pecker," I added.
"It got so hard from you looking at it. I had gone from no sex with your mother to near constant sex with Roger. I went back to no sex at school. That was hard. I wanted sex. I needed sex. I was..."
"So horny you was goin to lose your mind," Tom added for him.
"Exactly!" Dan said. "So I showed you how to stroke yourself by stroking myself in front of you."
"And that first time, when you shot, it was incredible!" I said.
"I came hard, really hard. It felt so fantastic."
"That's a lot like what happened in our family. Ma died and Pa took to stroking himself. It was a one room cabin, so my brother and me watched him. It was that or face the wall. One evening when Pa was drunk, he had Joey take him into his mouth. Pa filled Joey's mouth with man cream and Joey swallowed it. They both loved doin that, so Pa had Joey doin it all the time. When Joey was older, Pa explained fucking to him and Joey wanted to do it. They never stopped, til Pa died."
"Your father fucked your brother?" Dan asked Tom.
"Yup. And I fucked my brother, too. It was Joey's idea to bring me into the family fun. It was fantastical! Sex all the time. As much sex as we wanted. And Joey loved it, too. Just like Daryl probably did the first time you fucked him."
"But Daryl didn't know I was his father," Dan said to Tom.
Dan looked at me. "I've been dreading this moment for years. When I would have to explain I lied to you your entire life. I figured you'd hate me when you found out your own father was having sex with you."
"I understand, Dan—"
"My name isn't Dan, Daryl. It's Alan."
"You told me why you did it, and I understand. If you are worried that I wouldn't have had sex with you if I knew you were my father, well, I would have. I would have loved it even more. When Tom told me about him and his father having sex with Joey, I wasn't disgusted. I just wished I'd been there to see it. Thinking about a father fucking his son makes my pecker harder."
I looked at Tom. He grinned.
"You was worried about your Pa. You relieved?" Tom asked me.
"I sure am! Everything is perfect."
"Not perfect," Dan said. "We don't have a place to live."
"Sure you do. You can live here. Daryl has a room. You two can share it until you can find a place," Tom said. "You'll have to keep the sex quiet."
Harry walked into the kitchen.
"What is going on back here? Tom, keep an eye on things out front."
Tom nodded and walked back to the saloon.
My father told Harry about us. Harry's expression didn't change the whole time. I started to worry about that.
When Father finished, Harry skipped over the whole incest part, like it didn't matter. Maybe it wasn't as unusual as Dan--Father and I thought.
"Which place did you buy?" Harry asked Father.
"I bought the Yardley place, but when I saw it, there were seven graves right next to the house."
"The whole family died of smallpox," Harry said.
"Neither of us like the idea of living there," Father said.
I nodded my head.
"Yeah. And there is another reason not to like it. It was just an unlucky place. I never believed in curses, but that place seems cursed," Harry said.
"What do you mean?" Father asked Harry.
"I could give you a list of things that happened there. All bad. Bad weather—bad hail damage and a tornado, animals dying for no obvious reason, Indian raids, kids getting sick from the water. And that's in just three or four years. Nobody wanted the land. There's no gold been found, and the Yardleys sure looked for it, so it wasn't people trying to drive them off their land."
"I don't want to live there," I said.
My father nodded.
I continued eating while Father and Harry talked.
During the conversation, I got the impression Harry didn't like my father. Harry didn't smile once and he usually wore a smile. I didn't think it was the sexual part that bothered Harry. After all he didn't seem to hold it against Tom for fucking his brother. And it didn't bother him that Ben had shows with animals having sex with girls or that Tom went to the shows. Was it Dan pretending he wasn't my father that bothered Harry? Harry might be wondering if I would have had sex with him if I knew Dan was my father. Harry might not like the fact that Dan had lied to me my entire life. When I broke the situation down like that, I could understand why Harry looked grim. And I asked myself if Harry was wrong. But when I looked at Dan...my father, my heart was full of joy. And if he decided to leave me out of a feeling of guilt, I would follow him any way I could. And, to tell the truth, I didn't know Harry well enough to say he wasn't just worried about losing the money I could help him make,
"Can you recommend anywhere closer to town?" Father asked Harry. Harry smiled, slightly. Maybe it was about money.
"What exactly are you looking for? You two don't look like farmers or ranchers or miners."
"I hoped to start a portrait and photography business," Father said.
"Hmm," Harry said, as he seemed to consider that idea. "Not a lot of business here, but the town's growing."
"If that didn't work, try teaching," Father said. "And there are other things I could do."
"You want to live in town or close to it, then," Harry said.
"I sure do!" I said.
"Why not build a house, here?" Harry suggested.
Father nodded. "That sounds better." Father turned to me. "We can stay at the hotel until it's built."
"I wouldn't advise that," Harry said. "Can I take it that the bed will be squeaking and bouncing when you two are in it?"
My father looked embarrassed. I answered for him.
"Definitely," I said. "Constantly, I hope."
"Then you can't stay at the hotel."
"I'm hoping I can keep working here, drawing the ladies. Could my father live in my room, here?" I asked Harry.
"I'm afraid not. For the same reason you can't stay at the hotel. Word would get out that a father was having sex with his son at my saloon. They'd close me down. You saw how quick Ben found out about Ann. She'd love to point the finger at you."
"I wonder if Rafe..." I started to say.
Harry smiled for the first time.
"That's an idea. He might."
"What do you think about asking him if we could live there?" I asked Father.
"Maybe we should just find another town," Father said.
I didn't particularly want to leave. I had friends and a job.
Suddenly I had a very good question.
"Why didn't we stay at Mother's house? We could have done that."
"With a church at the corner and ministers and your mother's relatives and friends stopping by all the time to help? Possibly trying to find me a new wife. And in a couple of years, introducing you to nice, young women. Out here is looser," Father said. "And...I don't want anyone else, Daryl. Just you."
"Can we afford another move?" I asked.
"I got the Yardley place for practically nothing, seventy-five dollars." I couldn't believe that! "I should have realized there was a problem with it. I just figured there was so much space out here that land was practically free. But yes, we could afford something. Do you want to leave here?"
I thought about that. I was happy. I had a job and friends.
"Not really. I like it here. I have a job I like. I have a free ticket for a show--"
Harry burst out laughing.
"What show?" Father asked.
"A woman and a donkey," Harry said.
Father shook his head.
"Do you want to go to that show?" he asked me.
I knew I should say no, but even though it was disgusting, I was curious. And I wanted to watch a bunch of men with their peckers out, stroking them and rubbing donkey milk on them before fucking a woman.
"Yes. I really do."
"Rafe will take you if Tom can't," Harry said to me. "He goes to every show." Harry leaned forward. "Just think of all those peckers in sight. I doubt Rafe notices the donkey."
"I'm going to see if Rafe is still here," I said.
"He is. I'm sure he's hoping to...uh, talk to you. Why would he head home to an empty house when there's a chance of that?"
"I need to get back," Harry said. Harry left.
I got up.
"Wait a moment, Daryl," Father said.
"Sit back down. I want you to know the truth, but I couldn't admit this part in front of anyone else. There wasn't a woman on Michigan Avenue. Your mother found me stroking myself while looking at a picture of a boy. She told me when she was kicking me out of the house, that if I contacted you, she would tell everyone what kind of man I was. She said if I stayed away from you, she wouldn't my employer that I...liked boys. That way I could get another job teaching after I left town, which she also insisted on. And I promise you, that is the last lie."
I thought about it.
"That makes more sense."
"Does it change how you feel?"
I got up and whispered, "I want a mouthful of your milk so bad, I can taste it."
"Like Roger, you can take my cock out whenever you want. Son."
I smiled as I walked back into the bar. Rafe was standing at the bar, right next to the door. I walked up next to him.
He looked very happy to see me. And I was surprised that I was so glad to see his handsome face. I very much wanted to have sex with him.
"Will you come into the kitchen?"
We walked over to the kitchen table and sat down.
"Rafe, I just found out Dan here is my father.
"Is this a different Dan than your teacher?" Rafe asked.
"No. It's the same one."
"I kept the fact that I was his father from him," Father said. "I wasn't supposed to see him so I got a job at his school to be near him. When he got older, things just sort of happened."
"Does that disgust you?" I asked him.
"So you were fucking him. Daryl looks happy, so I guess he don't mind. But why are you telling me?"
"Because I like you and I'll be living with my father. I guess I want to know if you still want me."
"Hell, yes! You two are going to keep doing it?"
Rafe was silent for a moment.
"Can I watch?" he asked. He was obviously eager.
"I'm very glad you feel that way," I said. "The thing is, we don't have a place to live and we won't until we can have a house built."
"If we stay at the hotel, people will hear us," my father said.
"I was wondering if it was possible...we could live with you," I said.
Rafe's lower jaw almost hit the floor.
"I just got one bed."
"Can we all fit on it?" Father asked him.
"If we don't mind touchin each other. You serious?" he asked me.
"Yeah. I can sleep in the middle."
Rafe's eyes widened.
"And you and me..." he said, looking at me.
"Yeah. A lot." I leaned towards him and spoke softly. "My father told me I can pull out his meat whenever I want it. Can I do the same with you?"
"Hell, yes! Yes! Damn! And the three of us together..."
"Fine with me," Father said.
"Me, too," I said.
"Hot damn! Damn! DAMN!"
"And here I thought I'd have another lonely Christmas," Rafe said, shaking his head.
"I almost forgot about Christmas!" I said. "I know what gift I want from each of you."
"Are you going to wrap a bow around it like last year?" my father asked me.
Rafe's eyes widened. "Damn!"
"I need to buy two bows this year. I bet Joe's store across the street will sell me two."
I turned to my father.
"I need a large bow for Rafe's gift."
I smiled at Rafe and watched him blush.
We sat there, smiling at each other.
"You know, I could add on to my house. Make a big bedroom with a big bed. Be quicker than building your own."
I looked at Father.
"We better see how we all get along, before we decide things like that."
Rafe nodded. "That's true."
"Where do you live?" Father asked Rafe.
"The foothills west a here. Bout four miles."
"I don't think we can walk four miles in the snow in the dark," I said.
"Don't need to. I'll take you," Rafe said. "I've got a wagon at the livery stable next to the hotel. I had to pick up feed."
"Do you have livestock?" Father asked Rafe.
"Not much. I'm a miner, not a farmer. But I've got horses and chickens."
"Are you going to let me keep working here?" I asked my father.
"You are obviously old enough to make that decision for yourself. You don't need to work for money, though."
"I like working. I think I will," I said.
"Need a horse, then," Rafe said. "I leave before dawn."
"We both will," Father said.
"I'm worn out. Can we leave now?" I asked.
"Sure can," Rafe said. "I'll get your stuff out of room 7."
"Do you have anything?"
"I left my bags at the hotel. I'll get them while Rafe is getting his wagon.
"Is this what you want, Daryl?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"I show up, tell you I'm your father and that I've been lying to you and then expect you to live with me. You could live here, like you planned. Or you could move in with Rafe without me. You don't owe me a thing. Just the reverse."
"If I did either of those things, how could I play with your pecker all day while Rafe is working?"
"I'm going to tell Harry we are leaving," I said.
I got up and walked back into the saloon. It took me a while to find him. He was in the gambling room, watching a game of cards. I walked up to him.
"My father and I will be spending the night at Rafe's," I said, softly.
"If we get along, we may live there until we can get a house built. When is a good time tomorrow to do more drawings?"
"Why don't you come by around two in the afternoon?"
"OK. I'll see you. Thanks, Harry."
Harry held his hand up before turning his attention back to the game.
I wondered for a minute if the game would end in bloodshed, but the men playing didn't seem to be rowdies. They were well dressed.
I walked back to the kitchen. Rafe had my bag. Father was holding my coat. He handed it to me and I put it on. Then I pulled my scarf out of a pocket and wrapped it around my neck
"You ready?" Rafe asked me.
I smiled at him. "I sure am. I want to leave, too."
Father laughed. Rafe looked confused. I looked down at his crotch, hoping he would notice. He did and then he chuckled.
"Yeah, I'm more than ready," he added.
We left the kitchen and walked through the saloon. A few men looked at us as we passed.
"The young'un is the artist," I heard a man's voice say.
I smiled. I had a profession, already. I was an artist.
We walked out of the saloon and into the frigid cold. There was light snow falling. Carpenter's store was dark. I could see where the Golden Bone was, down the street. It and Harry's saloon were the only places lit up, although a couple of lamps were lit along the street.
We walked down the sidewalk until we came to the hotel. It was nearly as dark as Carpenter's store. I thought that was strange, until I remembered how dead the town was. This wasn't Chicago, where people would be returning to the hotel from theaters and restaurants.
"I'm going to get my bags," Father said. "I got four of them."
"I'll help," I said.
Rafe took my bag from me.
"I'll pull my rig up," Rafe said.
The livery stable was just next door. I could smell the animals.
My father and I walked into the hotel. The door hit a bell and there was a soft ring. There was no one around. A lamp burned on a desk, dimly lighting the room. A man walked through a door, wiping his hands on his pants and went behind the desk. He turned the lamp up and the room brightened.
"This your son? You ready for your room?" he asked.
"We aren't going to be staying after all," Father said.
The man looked unhappy and a little angry. Maybe he needed the money.
"Someone told me I could get a quarter of my money back," Father said.
"I think that's fair," the man behind the desk said, smiling.
He opened a drawer and pulled out two bills. He handed them to Father.
"You folks have a good evening."
The man pulled two bags out from behind the desk. Father picked them up. The man got two more and placed them in front of the desk. I picked those up. The man held the door open for us.
We waited in front of the hotel. I could hear voices coming from the livery stable.
"Maybe we should have waited inside," Father said.
"I'm not cold, yet," I said.
I looked around. It was dark. The only light I could see was what was spilling out of Harry's Saloon.
"If you change your mind about living with Rafe, we can find somewhere else," Father said.
"OK. Would you rather go somewhere else?"
"Not right now. Ask me in a week."
I smiled at him.
The door of the stable opened letting out light. Rafe led two horses out. He walked them to us. As soon as the stable door closed, we were back in the dark. Rafe ran up and took my bags from me. He put them into the back of the wagon. Father put his there. I walked to the seat of his rig. Rafe picked me up and put me on the wagon seat. I got hard from that show of strength. Rafe sat next to me. I moved close to him.
"You cold? Get inside my coat," Rafe said.
Just then, Father got up on the wagon and sat on my other side.
"I'm warm between you two," I said.
We took off.
"You don't need a light to get to your place?" my father asked Rafe.
"No. Even if I got lost, the horses know the way home."
As soon as we were out of town, which took about a minute, I placed my hand on Rafe's crotch. He sighed and I felt him stiffen under my hand. I put my other hand on my father's crotch. He got hard in a hurry, too. I rubbed my palm over it.
"Oh, son. I missed your touch," Father said.
"You feelin your pa?" Rafe asked.
"Are you disgusted at all by that?" Father asked Rafe.
"I keep tellin myself I should be, but I ain't. The only worry I got is that when you two leave, my place'll seem even lonelier." That was sad. I wanted to say we would never leave, but I didn't think that would be the truth. "You two are used to better than a little cabin in the hills."
"Just because we get our own place doesn't mean it won't have room for you," Father said. "Assuming we get along. From the way you describe, it, the three of us need a bigger place. And we have the money to buy it."
Rafe sighed. "I'm just sittin here thankin God I met you two."
"Should I let go of your pecker when you are praying?" I asked.
Rafe burst out laughing. Father laughed, too.
"Prayer's over. Don't stop," Rafe said.
"Where is the mine where you work?" I asked Rafe.
"Bout fifteen miles from town. My cabin is closer."
"Do you like working in a mine?" I asked.
"Not really. But the pay's good. Better'n I could get anywhere else."
"How long does it take you to get to the mine?"
"Depends on the weather. It takes a while. I don't mind that. Least I didn't when no one was in the cabin. Now, I don't know."
"Could you do something else that wouldn't keep you so far away?" I asked him. I squeezed his erection for emphasis.
Rafe nudged me with his elbow. I could barely see he was smiling at me.
"Yeah. I could."
"If you want a bigger place, you can build on my land. I got plenty."
"Closer to town would be better," I said. I had a job at the saloon.
"I don't think it would be," my father said. "Four miles from town seems close enough to me. Having neighbors close by isn't something we need," Father said. "You want people looking in our windows as they walk down the street? They'll talk. If the curtains are always closed, they'll talk. If they know we're are always inside the house, they'll talk."
I hadn't thought about it that way.
"Your pa's right. We can build on my land," Rafe said.
"Do you know anyone who can build for us?" Father asked. "Because I barely know which end of a hammer to use."
"If you're serious bout this, I know just the man," Rafe said. "He built his own place."
"Is he a lanky man with a winning smile?" Father asked.
"He is!" Rafe said.
"How did you know that, Father?"
"I meant me," Rafe said.
"Oh. Oh! That would keep you out of the mine!" I said.
We rode along in silence for a while. We weren't traveling fast, not in the snow. It wasn't deep on the road. I could only assume this road was used for more than getting to and from Rafe's cabin. Every once in a while, there would be a cracking sound. There seemed to be ice under the snow in some places. I found myself getting sleepy and my eyes felt heavy.
"We're here," a voice said, while someone shook me.
I had fallen asleep. There was a blanket over my lap, and my bottom half was warmer than my top half. My hands were very cold. I rubbed them together as my father got off the wagon. Rafe was already on the ground. He stood by the horses. Father helped me climb down.
"You two go inside. I'll get the horses ready for the night."
It felt even colder, but I could see better. I looked up and saw the sky had partly cleared. It grew darker as a cloud moved across the moon. I wished I'd looked around while there was moon light. I could see nothing but a dark shape to our right.
Father pulled our bags off the wagon. Rafe pulled the horses and wagon to the left.
"I'll get you inside and then help Rafe," Father said.
I felt I should help, too, but then I shivered. My hands were getting numb. I figured I could help out by getting a fire going in the cabin while they took care of the animals. We walked up to the cabin. Fortunately, the moon was uncovered enough to get inside and find a lamp. My father lit it while I walked over to a fireplace. It was warmer in the cabin, but not nearly warm enough for me to want to undress. There were some glowing coals left on the fire and a big pile of firewood. I put some smaller pieces on and got them burning. I realized the fireplace was wider than I first thought. Maybe we could get the cabin warm enough to have sex. I turned around and saw the rest of the cabin. There was a bed, of course and a small table with two chairs. We'd need another chair. There were two rocking chairs in the room. I had to smile. Rafe was optimistic, hoping for another person to rock with. He should have been a little more optimistic and bought three! Opposite the fireplace was a large cook stove and I could see some burning coals in it, too. I stopped worrying about staying warm. I should have known no one would build a cabin that was too cold to live in, but frontier life was a mystery to me. Until this trip, I have never been out of Chicago. The cabin was bigger than I expected. I guessed it was about thirty feet by twenty feet. There was plenty of room for two. The three of us would be a little crowded, but not bad.
I made a list of things we needed. Another chair for the table. A writing table and chair. Another rocking chair. A comfortable reading chair. And probably more dishes. There was a door in the back of the cabin. I went an opened it, expecting a wood pile. Instead, there was a tub, a shaving table and basin and door at the bottom of three stairs. As I approached, I could smell a shitter. I opened the door and saw there were three more steps down. About ten feet away was the outhouse. There were wood planks running between the roof of the cabin and the roof of the outhouse. We could stay dry in the rain. That was good to know. I closed the door quickly and walked back over to the tub. There was another stove with a burner and a pot for heating water in the corner. It was only about three feet from the tub, which should keep you from getting too cold while bathing. There was a low fire still burning in it. Right above the pot was a water pump. The room had a strong smell of cedar. It was nice! With this second room, the cabin wasn't really that small.
I walked back into the main room and closed the door. Father opened the door and grinned at me. He went and stood next to the fire.
"It's bigger than I thought it would be," he said.
"Go through that door," I said, pointing.
Father walked over to it while I took off my coat.
"Hey! This is nice!" Father said, as he looked into the bathing room.
I sat on the bed. I was excited, but I was also very tired.
"Get undressed and get into bed," my father said.
I got up and started to pull my clothes off.
"Take those off, too," he said, when I was down to my longjohns. "You'll get too hot with us pressed up against you."
I hadn't thought of that. It was true.
"Are you going to undress?"
Father moved in front of me. I rubbed his crotch. He stiffened quickly.
"Rafe said you told him you wanted his cream."
"I did and I do."
"I told him how much you like mine. How you squeeze and squeeze when I'm done to get every last sperm out of me. He hopes you like his."
I looked up at him. He was so sexy!
"I think he'd like to see my cream in your mouth. I want to see his in you."
Father unfastened his belt.
I stroked myself as I watched him undressed. When his stiff pecker finally came into view, I realized there was a difference since the last time I saw it. Now I knew that the cock rising out of his crotch helped create me. I leaned forward and kissed it. Father sighed.
The door opened and Rafe walked in. He walked around and looked at me and then at Father's erection.
If you enjoyed it, please let me know.