Date: Wed, 1 May 2013 18:55:21 -0500 From: James Spaulding Subject: Getting Dad Drunk, Part 12 Getting Dad Drunk, Part 12 I could hear his voice downstairs. "That little twerp better not oversleep. We gotta three hour car ride, then I gotta find parking, and the game starts at 2:00." As if I were still sleeping... As I ran down the stairs, I did my best to contain my enthusiasm for my outing with Dad. Of course, there was no guarantee that Dad and I were going to fuck like bunnies, but far too many moments of sexual tension and energy had come and gone these past few months for our night in a hotel - "doing Chicago" - not to come with some promise of fulfillment. Since both Dad and I seemed eager to hit the road, we made good time. As the game was nothing but a prelude to the rest of the day, it seems relatively irrelevant. The Cubs lost - of course - and Dad didn't seem all that eager to start drinking, much less buy a beer for his underage son. We had fun, but it wasn't exactly going the way I had anticipated. Then again, my anticipation was completely fueled by my hormones and the three days of cum I had been saving up. Our hotel was close to Wrigley Field - and close to Boystown, Chicago's gayest neighborhood. We checked in and made our way to the room. We were both silent. Dad seemed to have a hard time getting the key in the lock, but, finally, the door closed behind us. "Whew, what a day." What was that supposed to mean. "I know." Dad sat on one of the beds. "So, what do you wanna do?" Loaded question. But I couldn't speak. Too much was rushing through my head, my stomach, my body. Fear and anticipation seemed intimately connected. Desire - my long burning desire - seemed swept away by the possibilities that this hotel room presented. "Cat got your tongue, Sport?" I mumbled an attempt at a reply. Dad got up and moved to his bag. "No worries, I got something that will loosen you up. Special. Your birthday and your mom doesn't have to know anything." I watched as Dad removed a bottle of tequila - some fancy bottle of tequila - a couple of limes, and a saltshaker. "Make yourself useful, and get us some ice." I did as I was bid, appreciating the brief exit for the respite it gave me. I collected myself as I collected the ice. I knew that a shot or two of tequila would loosen both of us up. I also knew that once loosened up, there was little that might stand in the way of my big plans: my birthday present to myself. Dad quickly poured our first shot. Raising his glass, looking me in the eye, "To us. To your birthday." Down went the first drink of the night. Now, I've had my share of alcohol - I am a high school student - but for some reason that tequila worked through my system quickly and powerfully. In light of Dad's subsequent moves, I think it's safe to say it moved through his system equally as quick and powerful. "Damn, the Cubbies lose and I'm stuck in this room all night." Dad poured another shot. "Stuck? This was your idea. And, you know the Cubs are going to lose. When don't they?" Dad laughed. Raised his shot glass. "Here's to losing." I raised mine, looked him in the eye. "Here's to being stuck in this room all night." Dad reached for the bottle. Refilled his glass. "Here, here!" And quickly swallowed a few more ounces. He lay back on his bed, fluffed up the pillows, and let out a deep sigh. "You know, Alex, if we are stuck in this room, I can think of a certain birthday boy that could use a shower. What? Don't you use deodorant?" "What the fuck are you talking about, Dad?" As soon as the word left my mouth I felt an odd twinge of guilt. I never swear in front of my parents. Dad laughed. "You should see your face. Like I just caught you masturbating or something. All guilty and stuff." "Sorry. I didn't mean to swear." "You gotta be kidding me. How the fuck are we going to have a fun weekend if you're wound up tight?" Dad moved to my bed, reached for me, and began to massage my soldiers. "Damn, Alex, you are uptight. Loosen up, son." He massaged my shoulders a bit more. "Here. Roll over." I did. And Dad situated himself, pinning me between his knees. Before I knew it, Dad was working my back with force and skill. "God, Dad, where'd you learn to do that?" "Just something I picked up." He kept working my back, moving from top to bottom and back again. After a few moments he removed my shirt. Of course, I didn't resist. "How's that feel?" "Awesome. Really awesome." Dad continued. His hands moving across my body. His full, thick fingers rubbing my muscles. "Fucking awesome." "There you go, son. Already loosening up." Dad got up from the bed. I rolled over. He returned with two more shots. "This will also loosen you up." Down the hatch. I realized my shorts did little to cover my erection. But decided not to hide it. Dad had seen it before and - in my mind - it served as an advertisement. Let Dad see the outline of my thick inches. Let him - like all the other married men I've known - get titillated. I got up. "I will take that shower." I walked to the bathroom. Turned on the shower. And with the door open, removed my clothes. My dick was rock hard, moist with pre- cum. The water felt good. I soaped up my body. When my slick hands reached my cock, I couldn't help but jack it a bit. I was so horny - three days without cumming!!! - and so hard. I heard Dad's voice. "Taking care of business, huh?" I turned to see Dad had stuck his head in the shower. "Jeez, Dad." Caught. But I didn't cover myself. Let him see. "You left the door open. I thought I'd check to see if you're OK." He laughed. Looked at my fully erect, clearly throbbing dick. "I see you are more than OK. You're fucking huge." He closed the curtain, leaving me to figure out what had just happened. I washed off. Wrapped a towel around my waste - leaving little to the imagination. I walked into the room. He looked at me and grinned. "Looks like you didn't take care of things in there. Isn't it supposed to shrink once you shoot?" If Dad could talk this way, I could too. "I didn't shoot." He looked at me. This time a bit more quizzically. "What, you're planning on walking around with that all night? It'll start to hurt, you know. Blue balls. Besides, I might get intimidated" "I have no intention of blue balls." "What? You do have plans to intimidate me." "Only if you got your own hang-ups, Dad." I walked to our makeshift bar, poured two more shots, and handed one to Dad. "Got it." "Got what?" "Your old man's been around the block, Alex. He knows how these things work. I figure you plan on trolling the bars, hooking up with some babe cuz it's your eighteenth birthday. I know how it is." "That's not how it is." "Oh. ... Then?" "We're stuck in this room, remember." "We're not stuck, Alex. If you want to go out, we'll go out." "I don't want to go out." I sat down next to Dad. My hand moved to my crotch. I little stroke. A little squeeze. Dad's eyes were glued to what he could see of my erection. He cleared his throat. Reached for the bottle of tequila, raised it to his mouth, and swallowed. He handed it to me. Now looking me in the eyes. I drank deeply. Handed it back to him. He drank again. Set the bottle down. And got on his knees before me. I watched as he removed his shirt. Admiring his muscles and body hair, even as I was overwhelmed by the reality the presented itself. Slowly he removed the towel from my waste. His eyes admired. His hands moved to my shaft. I groaned at first contact. My father had my cock in his hands. "Dear God." And his mouth moved to my dick. His tongue lingered on my slit. He savored my pre- cum. Dad's mouth and tongue worked together, slowly, as if determined to trace every one of my seven-plus-inches. In no time - around inch number four - I was ready to shoot. My hand's moved to the back of Dad's head. I moaned. "I'm going to cum, Dad." And Dad's head began to move quicker, his tongue more eager, and soon I was shooting my semen into my father's mouth. Dad's motions didn't slow. His attention now clearly focused on swallowing as much of my cum as possible. I groaned with pleasure. Quivering in ways I had never quivered before. Dad's attention's never waivered. And after a few moments, he was back to exploring my inches with his mouth. I looked on in amazement. My father -- a cocksucker. Clearly experienced. Clearly enamored with my penis. My erection remained. One orgasm was clearly not all I had in me. A few minutes later, I was once again filling my father's mouth. This time, after I finished. He removed his mouth from my dick, only to use his hands to squeeze as much cum out of me as possible. Once finished. He got up and lay on the bed next to me. Neither of us spoke. I knew I didn't know what to say. I knew what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, how badly I wanted to pleasure him, how much I wanted to feel his cock inside of me. But, now that he seemed finished, I was speechless. We lay there. Breathing heavy. Finally, I heard Dad chuckle. Really, he was laughing. "I swore I was never going to do that. I swore I would not have sex with me son. And here I am. Do you hate me?" "What? Do I hate you? I wanted this for years." "You wanted this?" "Yes." He was quiet for a while. "Time's change, I guess. When Grandpa first had sex with me, we both felt so awful we didn't spend any time alone with each other for months." "You and Grandpa?" "Me and Grandpa. It started when I was sixteen." "Fuck me!" "Don't think I haven't thought about it." Dad laughed. "You mean we could have been doing this for years." "I sure would have been happy to suck that boy-dick of yours." He laughed again. "Though, I'd hardly call that a boy-dick." So all this time thinking I had to create a situation, had to get Dad drunk, all proved pointless. Dad pulled me close. Spoke into my hair. "You sure you're OK, Alex?" He kissed my head. I moved so our lips could meet. "OK? Dad, I am fucking perfect." And our mouths opened to begin the most perfect kiss ever. Father and son tongues entwined. Eager. So fucking eager. Every part of my body yearned to be as close as possible to Dad. I wanted to feel as much of him with as much of me as possible. Our mouths were one point of contact. Our hands eagerly searched for other points. Clearly fascinated by the thrill of experiencing one another's bodies for the first time, we simply couldn't stop touching, grabbing. I needed to feel Dad's thick cock. I needed to fondle his balls. Probe his asshole. Run my fingers through his chest hair. Tweak his nipples. Feel the pre-cum drip from his cock-head. Could I ever be satisfied? Could I ever get enough of Dad? I certainly began to answer that question in earnest. I moved, placing myself on top of Dad. My legs straddled his waist. My ass slit perfectly placed, like buns surrounding his erection. I bent down, my lips found his neck, moved to his chest, my tongue played with each of his nipples. My body slid lower. Now I was lying on top of Dad, in full control. Spurred on by his groans of pleasure. I could have lingered on Dad's chest - knowing he enjoyed what my mouth was doing to him - but I needed to have his cock inside me. I needed to taste the seed of the man who raised me. Kneeling between Dad's legs, my hands reached for his dick. Yes, it was large. Yes, it was thick. And man was it slick with his pre-cum juices. I began by licking every inch of him. Savoring the taste of his body's juices. Pleased with his moans, the way his body writhed on the bed, the way he said my name, the way he said "fuck, oh fuck" as I finally put his dick in my mouth. Like me, Dad could not hold back, my mouth had barely made its steady way towards the base of his dick, and Dad's hands were on my head, forcing me down, forcing me to deep throat his thick shaft. I gagged. Dad groaned. And he began to shoot. His semen filled my mouth. Each ejaculation filling more of me, I swallowed, and swallowed again. I tried so hard to savor the taste of my father's sperm, but he gave me so much, I found myself struggling to take all of it. Finally, he lay spent. And I was able to clean his cock, realizing that the salt and sweat that stimulated my taste buds, was the salt and sweat my father had deposited. Oh, I was happy. ___________ Having gone this far, Dad and I weren't putting on any brakes. Yes, we talked. But most of what we said was the sort of stuff one says to a sex partner, a sex partner that one has lusted after for years. Between the "God, Son, you are so fucking hot" and the "Fuck, Dad, I've wanted you for so long," little of substance was shared. Yes, I wanted to know about Dad and Grandpa. But, most importantly I wanted to fuck my father and, in turn, I wanted him to fill me with all of his inches. I started working on Dad's ass in earnest. First one finger, circling his sphincter. But Dad's instinctive response, his groans, his body's quivers, told me that more than a finger was desired. My fingers moved to my mouth. Covered with spit, they returned to my father's asshole. As I pierced his sphincter, slowly working my fingers inside him, I was practically overwhelmed by feelings of power, of control, feelings that only fueled my lust. Dad seemed to writhe with my touch, his ass slightly humping the two fingers that had worked their way inside him. "Alex, please, fuck me." I rolled Dad over, and my tongue made my way to his hole. Another flavor, my father's ass, filled my mouth. Even clean, I could taste his scent, sweat, the musk of the man who raised me. Dad's hands moved to my head, willing my tongue deeper. I added a finger. Another finger. My father's hole was slick with my spit, prepared for my thick cock. I spat into my palm. Slicked my dick. And stood before my father. "Please." And I began to penetrate my father's ass. Slowly. He was tight. Slowly. I was so horned up I was afraid I would shoot with only a few thrusts. I steadied myself by looking into Dad's eyes. Our gaze held. He smiled. I thrust a little deeper. His smile altered. As my thickness filled his hole, his body was sending him mixed messages. Pleasure and pain. Soon his smile was replaced by a look I had never seen on my father's face. It was pleasure of a sort that comes from the most base fulfillment. I began to fuck him. Sliding my bare dick in and out of his hole. Enamored with the sight of my thick cock, so like his, sliding in an out of his hairy, spit-slicked hole. I pumped harder. Dad groaned louder. And I spurt. I plunged as deeply as I could. I continued to spurt. Willing my semen to find a place deep inside of Dad, deep enough to connect the two of us as I had always wished to connect. Dad's groans, words of pleasure, filled the room. He too was feeling a different sort of orgasm, his prostate found. My semen filling him with warmth and love. I remained inside of him. Massaging his body. Admiring the thick dark hair of his chest. The beautiful blue of his eyes. And then we began laugh. I don't remember who started. But I do remember Dad pulling me to him. Laughing. Kissing me. Saying sweet nothings. Making promises - some romantic, some raunchy as fuck. And then I knew it was my turn. I could feel Dad's cock. Throbbing. Once again dripping pre-cum. He knew it was time for him to take what I had taken from him. I moved to straddle him. Placing my hole above his cock, he held it firm as I slowly lowered myself. His dick, so slick with pre-cum, needed no lube. I groaned as my ass stretched to receive him. I groaned but refused to slow. I continued to lower myself. Continued to feel more of my father's inches. Once all of him was inside of me, I began to grind my hips, while at the same time I began to move up and down. Slowly. Using all my muscles to support myself. I leaned back. My hands found the bed and held me up as I continued to ride my father's cock. "Oh, fuck. Alex, I'm going to cum... I can't stop..." And Dad didn't stop. Nor did I want him to. I sat my ass down on his crotch and reveled in the feel of his ejaculation. I felt his warmth. I felt his love. I felt like I could stay atop him forever. And once this turn was complete, we continued to explore each other's bodies. We continued to stay erect. Ready for the next time. Nothing seemed to satiate. We wanted so much, and we both tried so hard to please. After a much longer fuck, I once again filled dad with my cum. Once again, I staid inside him, enjoying the warmth, the connection. "I used to stay inside your grandfather, too." I remained silent, knowing Dad would tell me what he needed to tell me. "I wanted him. Oh, fuck, Dad was one hunk of a man." I interrupted. "Grandpa is still pretty hot. And he's not that old. Isn't he like 70?" "69." Dad laughed. "That was his favorite position." He laughed some more. "What am I saying, that is his favorite position." "You and Grandpa still..." "What do you think? Do think we'll stop any time soon?" "I mean, isn't he too old. And, you got Mom." I was confused. Perplexed. "Don't worry, Buddy. Some day, your grandpa and I will fill you in on the details. For now, all you gotta know is your grandpa and I still do this a couple times a year." And then I got a new idea. "Dad, don't tell Grandpa. What do you think he'd do if I tried to seduce him?" Did Dad laugh at that. "You sick little fuck." "What? And you're not. You've fucked your dad and your son." "You got me there. Still, what if Grandpa doesn't find you attractive?" I paused. I hadn't thought of that. Dad read the insecurity on my face. And, once again. laughed his ass off. "You really think a man like your grandpa is going to turn down an ass like yours? You gotta be fucking kidding me." We kissed. We laughed. "But, Alex, for now, let it just be me for a while. Just the two of us." I got up. Poured each of us a shot. Gave one to Dad. As our glasses touched I made my promise. "You got it, Dad. Now drink up." ________________________ Thank you to all of you who've waited for this story to come to an end. I appreciate all the fan mail. I can be reached at fathercandy@yahoo.com. If you like this story, I am working on another series: "Revenge: Incest is Best." I won't start publishing it until I have a couple episodes written. I'm on the fourth right now. Keep reading. Have fun.