Date: Sat, 10 Feb 2007 15:39:09 -0800 (PST) From: James Spaulding Subject: Getting Dad Drunk The following is a work of fiction - though God knows I wish it had happened. Please feel free to contact me with your comments and suggestions: fathercandy@yahoo.com Getting Dad Drunk I had my 18th birthday figured out. I knew what I wanted. And past experience told me I knew how to get it. I was going to get my dad drunk, and he was going to fuck me. As simple as that. Except - of course - it wasn't all that simple. That said, I did have some practice in the impossible: I had already seduced my best friend's father. I like older men. And older men like younger guys. That's pretty much true across the board. Sure, Tyler's dad was married. Sure. Tyler's dad was straight. But it is also true that it didn't take a whole lot of convincing on my part to get him to fuck me for Christmas. Yeah, that fuck was my Christmas present. Tyler and I had been best friends since we were seven. We grew up together and his house was often as welcoming as my own. I'd spend weekends with his family. He'd spend weekends with my family. By the time we had reached high school, sleepovers had become a thing of the past, but we still spent a lot of time with each other. Of course, once hormones struck, Tyler started working his magic with the ladies. I hoped to work my magic with the lady's Dad. That said, tthe dad I most wanted was Tyler's. Mr. Elliot had always been kind to me. He'd always spend time with Tyler and me, taking us fishing, taking us to football games, taking us to McDonalds when we were hungry. But he had also been the first man I fantasized about. My first orgasm - an odd, unthinking eruption - had occurred as I was reliving the moment I first saw Mr. Elliot naked. I had gone camping with the Elliots, and the camp shower was pretty rustic: a 6' x 6' square with a showerhead on three of the walls. No shower stalls. No shower curtains. Just one room with three showerheads. As luck had it, Mr. Elliot happened to shower the same time I chose to shower one morning. I did my best to keep my stares surreptitious, but his man's cock, man's chest, and man's ass fascinated my boy mind. My memory of Mr. Elliot's cock, chest, and ass fueled my first orgasm. By the time I was a senior, my fantasies had grown more graphic. Night after night I shot load after load thinking of Mr. Elliot. In my fantasies he always fucked me. He always came in my mouth. He always kissed me when we finished. By the time I was a senior in high school - a randy 17 year old - I began to jack off imagining any number of scenarios which would lead to the fuck, the mouthful of cum, and the tender kiss. I would walk in on Mr. Elliot as he showered. He would invite me camping. I would walk in on him as he masturbated. As he watched porn. As he was changing clothes. All sorts of scenarios. But none seemed particularly realistic. Time passed and I became more imaginative. And then something happened that made my fantasy take on a new twist. I began to think I just might know a way to get Mr. Elliot in bed. The Homecoming Dance had just ended. Tyler and I both had dates; I could pretend if I needed to. And all four of us were planning on going to the illicit bonfire that followed the official high school activities. We stopped at Tyler's house to change out of our suits. The girls changed in the Elliot's guest room. Tyler went to his room. And I changed in the first floor bathroom. I left the bathroom and went to the kitchen. I was thirsty. A coke sounded nice. I got my coke, opened the back door, and wandered outside. After the noise of the dance - and the constant chatter of my date - quiet proved a pleasant relief. That quiet was immediately interrupted. "Hey, Alex. What are you guys doing home already?" I was startled. I had thought I was alone in the Elliot's backyard. Mrs. Elliot walked past me. She had a towel wrapped around her. "I've had just about enough of the hot tub. I'm too hot. Then, I sit out a while and I'm too cold. Besides, I guess I better go in and see if Stephanie and Abby need anything. I can just imagine their quick change. Nothing quick about it. Knowing the two of them, they probably brought four or five ensembles to assemble. Girls." I heard Mr. Elliot laugh. I turned to the hot tub. Mr. Elliot was sitting on the edge, taking a swig from a bottle of beer. It was a cool night, but the chill had no effect on him. He sat in his swim trunks. Body glistening. "I can only take too much of the tub myself. But I paid so much for the damn thing, I hate to leave it." He took another drink, swallowing the last of it. "Hey, Alex, would you mind getting me another one." He held his empty bottle out to me. I took it, returned to the kitchen, expecting to see Tyler, but he was nowhere to be seen. I walked back to the hot tub, handing Mr. Elliot his beer. "I sure do like this. Drinking beer. Sitting in the tub. Looking at the stars. This is a good life." He swallowed. And I watched. Mr. Elliot was fast approaching his 50th birthday. But thanks to an exercise regiment he had established on his 40th birthday, he was a fit, solid man. Looking as good as he did that first time I saw his naked body. I stood there, doing my best to conceal the boner that filled my pants. Believe me, a shirtless Mr. Elliot was enough to get me going. "Only problem. It doesn't take a whole lot of this stuff to put me over the edge. I guess the hot tub dehydrates me or something." He took another drink. "This is only my fourth beer, but I feel like I've had half a case... Hey, how was the dance?" "You know. The usual. Loud. Silly. And fun. I guess I came out here 'cause I wanted a little peace and quiet." "I hear you. You got time to get in the tub with me?" Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What an invitation. Of course, there was no way I could get in the tub with him. Tyler and the girls were soon to emerge. But the invitation had done its dirty work. I had another scenario to ponder the next time I got my hands around my cock. "Ah...I don't have a suit." "Alex, you can always borrow one of Tyler's. Or, hell, you could just climb in here in your skivvies." He paused. He laughed. "Skivvies? What the heck am I talking about? You don't have a clue what skivvies are, do you?" "I guess it's my boxers." "You guessed it, little buddy. You could wear your boxers and that would be fine with me." I laughed. "Yeah. And then I'd be all wet for the bonfire. Cold and wet." "You got me there, Alex. I guess you'll have to take a rain check." He took another drink. Winked at me. And laughed. Needless to say, the bonfire couldn't end soon enough. I needed to take care of business. I needed to cum in the worst way. By the time my cock was lubed and my hands were working, I was ready to blow. I had little time to imagine my new scenario: The hot tub. Mr. Elliot. Me. And five beers. Don't think for a moment I didn't constantly imagine and re-imagine that scene. And don't it didn't take all that long before I decided to see just how far it would go. Christmas was approaching. The Elliot's were going to Miami for the holiday. Tyler and his mom had already left. Mr. Elliot was left alone; he couldn't leave until Christmas Eve. Of course I knew all of this. Tyler was my best friend. But I also knew I could play stupid. And maybe, just maybe, spend some time in the Elliot's hot tub. I waited until I was sure Mr. Elliot was home from work. My hands shook as I rang the doorbell. I was so nervous the boner I had nursed all day had left me. I waited. Mr. Elliot opened the door. "Hey, Alex. Good to see you. I was just starting to get a little lonely." "Lonely?" Here's where I started to play stupid. "Yeah. Tyler and Ruth left for Miami yesterday." "Crap. I forgot. I was coming over to hang out with Tyler. I was getting bored at home. All Mom and Dad want to do is watch stupid Christmas movies on the Hallmark Channel." Mr. Elliot laughed. "Can't stand 'em myself, but Ruth sure enjoys 'em. Come on in. I haven't a clue what we can do, but certainly we can come up with something." I hoped there was some double meaning, some sort of euphemism in Mr. Elliot's welcome, but his welcome was the sort of welcome offered by any best friend's father. But when the door closed behind me, I felt a surge of excitement. I was in the house. We were alone. And so far everything had gone according to my fantasy, "Are you hungry?" "Nope." "You thirsty?" "Sure." "You want a coke?" "Whatever you got." "I got coke. I got beer. I got wine coolers. I got eggnog. You name it, it's yours." It wasn't the first time he had offered me alcohol. He knew Tyler and I drank. He knew we drank responsibly - or, at least, as responsibly as any high school student could drink. I took him up on the offer. Hell, the fantasy required beer. At least five of them. "I'll have a beer. If that's OK?" "It's OK as long as you don't tell your parents and don't leave here drunk. You got that?" I nodded. He handed me a beer. "Cheers." Our bottles touched, and I began to loosen up. This was working the way I had hoped. It was practically following the script I had created in my head dozens of time. Next step: the hot tub. "Thanks for letting me come in. I mean, I kind of feel like I'm bothering you. You probably like having some time to yourself and everything." "I do like time by myself. But sometimes a little company is nice too." I followed him into the den. He had a college basketball game on. We watched a while. We drank in silence. "This goes down well. Thanks, Mr. Elliot." "Well, there's more where that came from." At half time, Mr. Elliot got up, made his way to the kitchen, and came back with another beer. "You know, Alex, I'm not all that interested in this game. How about joining me in the hot tub? It's a little cold outside, but not as bad as it has been. You know me, I spent so much money on the damn thing, I figure I gotta use it as much as possible." Fuck my luck. Mr. Elliot was as good as following my script. These were the sort of words I imagined him saying every time I masturbated. I followed his lines with my own. "I'll go get one of Tyler's suits." I went upstairs to change. I adjusted my boner by the time I got downstairs. Mr. Elliot was waiting for me in the kitchen. He was wearing his swimsuit, a towel draped around his neck. He handed me another beer and we walked outside. I helped him uncover the hot tub, shivering as I did. He turned on the controls, the steam rose and bubbles filled the tub. The water was hot. The air was cold. And I was in heaven. Let the night begin. Mr. Elliot sat at one end of the tub. I sat at the other. I was lost in my fantasies. He drank silently. I heard him say something. It broke my reverie. "I'm sorry. What did you say?" "I know. That damn machine makes so much noise, it's practically impossible to have a conversation in this thing." With those words he crossed the tub and sat next to me. "I asked you how everything was going with Abby." "I guess, to be honest, there isn't a whole lot going on." "Yeah, Ruth and I didn't figure she was right for you. We just never saw a spark." I laughed. "That's for sure. There wasn't much of a spark - ever." "Here." He reached for my bottle. Got out of the tub, and walked to the kitchen door. I watched him as he walked away. His suit clinging to his ass. I wanted him more than ever. Three beers down... Mr. Elliot returned with a bucket filled with beer and ice. "No need to keep getting in and out. Ruth would have a fit if she saw the kitchen floor right now. I dripped -- a lot." We continued to drink. Four beers. On to the fifth. We were drinking quickly. Feeling the alcohol. But I had no idea how to continue. In my fantasy I usually jumped from the fifth beer to the blow job. But in reality, I knew I had to do something. I was pretty drunk. Mr. Elliot was on his way. I waited for him to open the sixth beer. He handed it to me, and I moved my leg towards his leg. Our bodies touched for the first time. He looked at me. Toasted. And his leg didn't move. I let my hand touch his thigh. He didn't move. I let my hand rest on his thigh. My foot touched his foot. He didn't move. We drank in silence. He looked at me. He laughed. And he got out of the tub. "Fuck. That thing gets hot." It was the first time I had heard him swear. Sure, I had heard hell and damn and even an occasional shit, but I had never heard him say fuck. Something was happening. He was loosening up. He sat on the edge of the tub, facing me. I looked at his crotch. He noticed. He adjusted himself. He reached for another beer. "Here." I took the beer. Our hands touched. He looked at me. He leaned back. "Fuck. I am officially loaded." "Yeah, me too." But we both drank more. "Alex, I am afraid I have been a bad dad. I got you drunk. You can't go home like this." "Ah...yeah...I guess my dad would kill me." "And then he'd come over here and kill me." We laughed. "You'll just have to stay over." He looked at me. Took another drink. "I mean ... only if you want." "I want." "You sure?" "Yeah." "Well, then drink up little buddy." Though we were silent, our eyes spoke volumes. I kept looking at Mr. Elliot. Glancing at his crotch. Certain he had grown hard. He kept looking at me. Then he would look away. Finally I had had enough hot tub. I got out of the water and move to sit next to Mr. Elliot. Our legs touched. I placed my hand on his knee. He looked at me. His hand moved to my thigh. He cleared his throat. His voice was husky. "Um...I've...ahh...I've never done this before Alex." I cleared my throat. "I know, Mr. Elliot." "But... Alex...I...um... Alex, I want to. I want to." He looked at me and his hand moved to my crotch. "I want it too, Mr. Elliot." He squeezed my boner. Laughed. "I can tell." By now my hand had worked its way into Mr. Elliot's swimsuit. My hands found the pouch that kept his cock and balls in place. My hands felt his erection. My hands cupped his balls. "I don't really know what to do, Alex." "Yes you do, Sir." "I...but you're underage, Alex. And...You're a guy, Alex. I..." "I'll help you, Sir. Except..." "Except what. Alex?" "Except your cock is so hard, Sir. And I'm pretty sure you know what to do when it get's like this." He looked at me. Laughed. "You little fucker." "Yes, Sir." I moved my hand to the waist of his swimsuit, untied the string, and released his cock. In my fantasies I had imagined Mr. Elliot's boner hundreds of times. I was certain that my imagination had created an expectation that no man could meet. Not so. Mr. Elliot's cock was long, thick, and beautifully proportioned. "Mr. Elliot...I have wanted to suck your cock for years." Instead of responding, Mr. Elliot put his hand on the back of my head and forced my mouth towards his cock. I opened wide and began to swallow Mr. Elliot's inches. It was hard work. He was so thick. And I did not want to have him feel my teeth. I worked slowly. Each time my mouth went down, I swallowed more. And there was still more to swallow. Mr. Elliot's hand never left my head. "Come on, Alex. Take it all. Take it, baby." Mr. Elliot continued to push my head, forcing more of his meat down my throat. And I continued to respond, swallowing more of his cock with each movement of my head. I had freed his balls from his suit. I held them with my right hand. "Alex. Look at me." I stopped swallowing for a moment to look at my best friend's father. "I'm drunk. You're drunk. God knows I will regreat every moment of this tomorrow morning. But let's go inside. If I am going to sin with my son's best friend, I am going to sin completely." He handed me a towel. I dried of as I followed him through the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom. "Get on the bed, Alex." I laid down, looking at him, waiting for his next command. "You know what I really want to do, Alex? You got an idea? I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so hard you hurt. I want to use you like the whore I think you are. I want to ride you. And I am not even going to ask you if that's alright." He stepped out of his swimsuit. And I saw him fully naked and fully aroused for the first time. Mr. Elliot was tall. A little over 6'. His chest was hairy. His head was shaved. He turned to go to the bathroom. His ass was as hairy as his chest and legs. I heard him rummage through a drawer or two. He came back with a tube of lube. His cock stood fully erect, a full eight inches. And thick. "Get on all fours Alex. I'm going to fuck you like a dog." I obeyed. And I soon felt his fingers enter my hole. They were covered with lube. He began to open me up with his fingers, readying me for his cock. "I saw this in a movie once. A guy was going to fuck this chick in the ass. He needed lube. And he needed to loosen her up." Two fingers entered me. I gasped. I had never been fucked before. I had only imagined the pleasure. And soon I was going to feel all of Mr. Elliot up my ass. I turned my head to look at Mr. Elliot. He was stoking his cock, covering it with lube. "I am so ready to fuck you, Alex. I am so ready to feel your tight hole surround my thick cock.... Are you ready, Boy?" "Yes, Sir." "Say please, Alex. Say please, Mr. Elliot, I want you to fuck me." "Oh, Mr. Elliot. Please, fuck me. Fuck me, Sir." I stopped speaking. I groaned. Mr. Elliot began to enter me. His first movements were tentative. I was tight - really tight. And he had never had anal sex before. We were beginners. But I wanted his cock deep inside of me. I wanted it more than anything. And his insistence - and his erection -- told me he wasn't going to give up easily. He kept trying. I kept trying. And soon enough his erection entered my hole. He began to enter me. Slowly. It hurt. But I made it very clear I wanted all of him. "Mr.Elliot. Please...fuck me sir." With my urging he moved deeper. "Do you...like...that, Alex? You like having me...fuck you..." "Yes. Fuck, yes." He moved deeper. The pain decreased, replaced by a sensation I had never known before. Slowly he began to move inside me. Slowly pulling back. Slowly moving forward. He began to fuck me. "You are so fucking...fucking...tight. Fuck." Fuck he did. He became more excited. He fucked me harder, deeper strokes, quicker thrusts. He pulled out. "Turn on your back, Alex. I want to see your face." I turned over. My legs in the air, he prepared to enter me again. He looked in my eyes. Stared for a moment. Bent down, raised my chin, and gave me a quick kiss. His hand brushed my head. He whispered: "are you OK Alex?" "Yes, Mr. Elliot. I am fucking awesome." Another tender look, another quick kiss, and his attention shifted. Once again, his fingers entered me. Once again, he stroked his slick cock. And once again he entered me. I watched as he grew more urgent with his thrusts. I watched as my best friend's father took full advantage of my teenage asshole. His fucked harder. I felt his balls slap my ass. He lost himself in his fucking. I lost myself in his fucking. "Alex, I'm so close to cumming. I am so close..." "Please, Mr. Elliot. Please, I want you to cum in my mouth. I want to taste you. Please." "If that's what you want, Baby." Mr. Elliot pulled out. Moved to the bed, and knelt by my side. He stroked his cock for a few seconds. My hand moved to his balls. I fondled. I squeezed. "That's it, Alex. That's it. Baby....fuck...I'm cumming..." He raised my head to his cock. I opened my mouth. And he began to shoot, covering my eager tongue with his semen. I swallowed. Opened my mouth for more. He put both hands on my head, and once again his cock was in my mouth. He fucked my face. I tasted the last of his cum. He pulled out. "What the fuck, have I done, Alex?" "You fucked me, Mr. Elliot. And I loved every minute of it." He laughed. "Fuck. I loved every minute of it, and I'm supposed to be straight." He pulled me toward him. I happily moved closer. He looked in my eyes. "Are you sure you're OK, Alex." Yes, Mr. Elliot. I am better than ever." "Alex, don't you think you should call me Ted? We just fucked. It's feels a little odd, Mr. Elliot. Mr. Elliot should not have fucked you. But Ted sure the fuck did." "Thanks, Ted." He smiled. Moved closer. His lips met mine. They lingered. I opened my lips and received his tongue. We kissed. Tentatively at first. But after a few minutes Mr. Elliot was on top of my, moving his groin, once again erect. "Fuck, Alex..." He whispered between a kiss. "You need to cum. That's only fair." With those words he shifted his attention. His hand surrounded my cock. He squeezed. "Nice. Very nice."