Date: Mon, 15 Nov 2010 17:22:53 -0800 From: James B. Subject: The hitchhiker and my dad (Part 1) (Gay-Incest) This story is fiction. If this story is illegal in your area or you are underage, I suggest not reading it. This is a read-at-you-own-risk sort of thing. I can't force you to /not/ read it. Basically this disclaimer exists to cover my ass eh? So other usual disclaimers apply. Read at your own risk. Otherwise, enjoy! Chapter 1 Mom was leaving for a couple of months or so to be with grandpa. We had stayed at his house for a few months before school started to keep him company after he had his heart attack. Many times before that I could remember my parents arguing with my grandfather about having him moved down to the west coast with us, but he was a stubborn old man who refused to budge and leave the home he had created for himself. My grandmother had passed about a decade ago, but grandpa still did not want to leave his home. I remember how my brother Paul and I had listened in on my folks as they argued about moving the whole family down to grandpa's house, or at least somewhere closer. Dad actually was actually for it, believing that it would be a lot easier to keep an eye on the old man, and it would do him good to be so close to family. It was actually my mom who was totally against that idea. My dad at that time the conversation came up had just gotten promoted at his job. I'm not sure what he does, but I do know that he works in an office and has a very important job. Mom was very proud of him when he got the promotion, and they celebrated for months. Believe me, I heard them celebrating. That's how I got my second, and youngest, brother Kurt. My mom didn't believe that it was a good idea to suddenly quit his job right when they finally got where they both wanted him to be just so they could "take care of a stubborn old man". My mom calls him that, she can be very forthright at times, but I know she loves him. And that's why she's staying longer to be with him. My dad gave in after a few months. It seems my mom really didn't want to move back to her hometown. I think secretly my dad was relieved to stay in the city. Paul and I are five years apart, I'm 13 (although I'm almost 14!) and he's 8. Kurt, the youngest, just turned 4. Paul is the louder one. He loves to run around and make as much noise as he can. If you see a black haired blur going past you, it's probably Paul on a sugar rush. My folks named me Marcus, or Marc for short. I'm the quieter one. I like to listen, and I'm pretty shy. Although apparently people don't think it when they see me. I apparently don't look like the silent type. For some reason people think I'm charismatic even when I'm doing nothing at all. I just sit there in silence, and then all of a sudden I have a whole bunch of kids sitting around me chatting with each other, trying hard to get me to join in on their conversation. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that I've got nothing to say most of the time. Kurt is... well, he's Kurt. He's probably just like any other 4 year-old. He loves to run around, screaming at the top of his lungs (he gives Paul a run for his money), or he's hibernating for 11 hours. My mom's name is Lisbeth, not Elisabeth. But she goes by Elle. Like I said before, she's forthright and says exactly what's on her mind. Paul and Kurt rarely get out of control when she's around cause she has a pretty strict hand. But that's not to say she's mean. She sings us to sleep every night, gives us a kiss before we go to bed, and makes a huge fuss every time we get sick (or she thinks we're sick). One time she drove to the emergency barefoot when she was convinced Paul had pneumonia because he sneezed three times in a row. I'm not really sure how old she is, but she doesn't look that old. And I've heard her say a couple of numbers before, but they always seem to change depending on who she's talking too. She's younger every time she's talking with this really mean lady that has a kid at my school. But most of the time she says she's 33. Oh, and she likes to dye her hair red. My dad's name is Joe, like the plumber. I actually don't know who Joe the Plumber is, but that's what people around my dad jokes about. My dad's not a plumber either, he does something else. But I already told you that. It's not short for anything either. Both of my parents are not fat, especially my dad. I heard one of the older girls in my school one time say that my parents looked like movie stars. My dad's kind hairy. He has hair on his chest that peeks out of his t-shirt neck. And he always has that 5 o'clock shadow on his face. I know my mom likes it because she likes to stroke my dads cheek. A lot of the mom's at my school also likes to talk to dad a lot and giggle a lot in front of him. Dad already had the sex talk with me, so I'm pretty sure that they like him, and he gets them horny or something. I can't relate though since I haven't hit puberty yet... I was self-conscious about it for quite a bit until my dad gave me a talk. He told me not to be in a rush and to just enjoy my childhood, so I am. Anyways, so Dad wasn't very happy about mom leaving for a month or so. At least I don't think he was. He glowered a lot, and a lot of times he muttered to himself or looked confused. More than once I saw him rub the bridge of his nose then mess up his hair in frustration. Something was getting to him. I didn't see them fighting though, so I don't think it was that. By the time my we had to say goodbye to my mom at the airport though, he was all smiles and kissed her for a really long time . She giggled and kissed all of us kids goodbye. Kurt cried a lot and mom had to calm him down and try to explain that she wasn't going to be gone that long. When that was well and done, she boarded her plane and we watched her plane take off from the car. We didn't drive out of the airport until her plane was out of sight. Apparently before they left they worked out how dad was going to handle the whole "taking care of three kids" thing. Now that they could afford it, they hired a temporary nanny for the month for us. They went through a lot of people, but mom insisted on this guy that had just finished college or something. I think it got something to do with the fact that everyone of the girls that mom interviewed couldn't stop ogling dad. The nanny-guy's name is Steve. Apparently he had just finished his degree in childcare-something-or- the-other, and he needed money and a place to stay for a couple of months, and then on to med school or something. So he was the one that was going to drive us to school drop of Kurt at daycare, and then pick us up after school and even prepare some meals. The guy really knows how to cook. And for the time being, he also got free room and board at one of the rooms in our basement suite. In about a week we were able to get a routine down. School, home, play, homework, sleep for us kids. Work and then home for the adults. I'm not sure what dad did for fun, he was home a lot and more often than not he just hung out with Steve before he headed downstairs or out to do his own thing. One night when dad and I were on our way back from the batting cages (and ice cream afterwards), he slowed down the car to a stop on the side of a dark road. The closest batting cages was close to the edge of town, past the golf course. So you had to take the highway to get to it. There was a guy walking on the shoulder of the road towards us, and I was sitting in the back seat where my mom always insists I sit. "Watcha doin' dad?' I asked. "Picking up this hitchhiker," he said "it's gonna rain out tonight. Remember Marc, it doesn't hurt to give a guy a helping hand." "But what if he's an axe murderer or something! Mom is gonna be so mad!" I said with wide eyes. "Well sport, between you and me, you're mom's prone to over-reacting. And it's more likely that he's a guy who needs some help than an axe murderer. Besides," he said with a lopsided grim and flexing his right arm to show his muscles "I won't let anything happen to you buddy." He winked. The passenger window rolled down when the hitchhiker reached our car. The guy didn't look that old. At least he looked younger than dad, even then dad wasn't that old. But even then he also needed to shave like dad, and while dad preferred the short, cropped hairstyle, this guy pulled his wavy hair back in a ponytail. "Need a ride into the city?" Dad asked. "If you guys don't mind." The hitchhiker said with a smile. He had really straight teeth. "Hop in." My dad motioned, and the hitchhiker opened the door and sat down in the front seat. My dad introduced himself, and the hitchhiker gave his name was Brandon, and the two of them shook hands. My dad threw his thumb in my direction and said my name. Brandon turned around and extended his hand in a handshake. I took it meekly and he shook my hand in a tight grip. I saw that he had folded up the sleeves of his jean shirt, and that he had really hairy arms and hands. And that they also looked just as muscular as my dads. The batting cages was about a 20 minute drive from our house, so dad and the guy had time to talk. I would have thought that dad would have asked Brandon where he was heading first before they started chatting. But instead the two of them just talked about their lives, about this and that, as if they were old buddies. We were already half-way home before dad finally remembered himself and asked where the guy wanted to be dropped off. Turns out he was just looking for the nearest motel. Apparently he wasn't going to be in the city long and just hitchhiked his way here for a temporary job he scored. He didn't say what though. When dad found that out he offered the guy the other room in our basement suite. That surprised me, but dad asked so casually. Well... I suppose the guy didn't seem threatening really... he smiled and laughed a lot actually. But I could just hear mom freaking out in my head if she found out dad let a drifter stay in our house for free. At first the guy kept on declining, and insisted on a motel since he didn't want to put dad out. But dad kept on insisting. Said how there was enough room in the house, and how if it wasn't going to be a permanent situation, then it would be fine. The guy was apparently going to be here only for about a month. He'd be gone a long time before mom got home. Eventually, the guy agreed. I suppose that's when the everything began. A short while after that, my dad went through some... changes. Which got me really curious. Paul doesn't pay attention, so I doubt he noticed, while Kurt's too young to notice anything. And if Steve noticed something, he never really let on. Actually, Steve ended up hanging around with Dad and Brandon more. Steve and Brandon got along really well actually. Brandon got a long with my brothers too. Even me actually. He was a fun guy to be around with. But all the while Dad got all of us to not tell mom that Brandon was there. Dad had to bribe Brandon with a toy to keep his mouth shut, but Brandon was already way too happy to have a secret to keep for dad that he did just that. Kurt ... well Kurt's too young to notice much I guess. Usually he's in his own little world. Steve had become fast friends with dad, and seemed more than happy to keep the secret. I didn't say anything 'cause I was afraid of mom going ballistic if she found out. Anyways, the first strange thing that happened was that after three days or so (maybe less, I don't keep track that well) Dad and Brandon started going out together more and left Steve to take care of us while the two of them went out. I guess it shouldn't be all that weird, since I've seen it on T.V. all the time how grown ups go out to bars to hang out and stuff a lot. So I figured that's what they two of them did. But the two of them always got home really late. I only knew this because I woke up one night because of a loud noise downstairs. I crept down to see what it was and found Dad and Brandon staggering into the house drunk and trying to put the shoe rack upright again, all the while trying not to laugh out loud. The two of them crept downstairs, Dad's arm around Brandon's waist, and Brandon's arm on dad's shoulder. It took me a while to go back to sleep that evening, and I don't remember dad going back upstairs. Brandon himself made me really curious. I had no idea what that guy did, but he always left in the mornings too around the time we do. Apparently he goes to work. And at times he came home way later into the evenings, sometimes after dinner. But the weirdest thing that happened was what I saw one morning (about two weeks after mom had left to be with Grandpa) when Paul was using the bathroom and I really needed to pee and decided to use mom and dad's bathroom in their bedroom. Dad had just finished taking a shower and was walking out of the bathroom when I walked in. He had a towel around his waist but I could see most of his body and found that all the hair on his body was gone. That really surprised me since I've seen my dad naked when I was younger, and he takes his shirt off a lot when he gets too sweaty. And like I said before he had hair peeking out of his t-shirt neck, that's how hairy he was. But now I saw that there was nothing. Nothing on his chest, there was no dark covering on his arms, and not even under his armpits. His body was hairless, which I've never seen before. Dad greeted me with a good morning and asked me what was wrong, which brought back the reason while I was in his room in the first place. "Paul's hogging the toilet and I need to pee really bad!" And with that I ran to the bathroom. The entire time though, I was thinking about what I had just seen. I wondered why dad's body was suddenly hairless? Now that I thought about it, I remembered how in the past week he did shave his face a lot more. And more often than not, I saw him a lot less with his 5 o'clock shadow on him. That's what got me really curious about what my dad was doing. But as I kid, I had other things going on in my head that eventually that quickly slipped my mind and it went on something else. Well, at least until that evening. It was Friday night and I had already gone to bed when I woke up in the middle of night once again. I could hear someone laughing downstairs that was quickly stifled. I sneak out of my room and peeked out of the stairway railings and into the living room below. What I saw was something I didn't expect to see, and it was something that surprised me to no end. It was something I wasn't supposed to see until I was older, or at least until I hit puberty when I became all interested in it. It was sex. But this was different. The way my dad described it to me was between a man and a woman. And what I was seeing was between two men. Dad had told me a lot about sex, about what happens, and the different kinds. And what he said basically works into what my friends have told me at school. So I knew that it was a guy giving a blowjob to another guy. But what really threw me off about this whole thing was that it was my dad that was giving Brandon, the hitchhiker, a blowjob. The couch they were on wasn't that far from the stairway, so I had a pretty good look at everything. And I saw when dad wasn't putting Brandon's dick in his mouth, when he was sucking on Brandon's balls, was that Brandon's penis was very, very big. It was as big as my dad's face. When my dad started to suck on Brandon's cock again, the guy grabbed the back of my dad's head and pushed it down so my dad took on more of his cock. I could see veins forming on my dad's neck, and his face turning red, but he just grabbed on to Brandon's waist until Brandon let him go. "Aaah, yeah." Brandon moaned "Suck my cock, slut. Fuck yeah, you like that cock?" My dad just grunted in return, and kept on sucking on Brandon's cock. I saw my dad gripping Brandon's large member with his fist while working the head with his mouth. Every so often he would let go and suck on his balls, before going back to the cock and trying to shove as much of it in his mouth. Brandon seemed to like holding my dad's head down and having him take as much of his cock as possible until my dad began to choke, but my dad never complained. This went on for quite a while, the entire time I worked hard not to make a sound and get caught. After a little while Brandon pulled my dad's head off his cock and told him to stand up. I stifled a gasp when he did. My dad was hairless everywhere, except for his eyebrows and his head. He had no hair on his crotch either, and from what I could make out, his legs were hairless too. But what really took my notice was that something shining on his nipples. I didn't remember them when I saw him half naked in his bedroom a few days ago. But there they were. Earrings on both of his nipples his nipples. Brandon caressed my dad's chest and pulled and tweaked my dad's nipples as well. It was at that time I noticed the difference in their bodies. Brandon had body hair, and dad didn't. Brandon's chest was coated by fine black fur that travelled down his abs and into his crotch and legs. There were even a few dustings on his should and back. Dad on the other hand was completely smooth except for his head. He had even shaved, while I noticed Brandon's 5 o'clock shadow. I also noticed that the entire time, Brandon never touched my dad's dick. After a little while, Brandon told dad to turn around and bend over. My father quickly did as he was told and bent down to touch his toes and expose his ass to Brandon. His ass was smooth too, and by this time I wasn't all that surprised. Brandon began to bury his face in my dad's ass, and I could even see him working my dad's hole with his fingers. He would spit on it occasionally before diving back in to eat away at my dad's ass. After several minutes he leaned back into the couch and spoke to my father in a hoarse voice, "You know what to do, let's have it", he said. Before I knew it my dad turned around and climbed the couch, arranging his ass directly above Brandon's large cock. What happened shocked me beyond belief and I was forced to bite down on my hand to keep myself from making a sound. My dad began to lower his ass on to Brandon's cock and sat down. It seemed to take a few tries, and it seemed like a slow process, so much so that Brandon began making sounds of frustration. When it seems Brandon had finally lost it, he reached up and grabbed my dad's shoulders and roughly shoved him down his cock. My dad couldn't help but let out a loud moan. "Yeah, that's right. Let it out. Let your kids know what a big slut their daddy is." He said roughly, and began to play with one my dad's nipple piercings with his tongue. "Tell me what you want bitch." "You're cock. Fuck I want your cock." My father moaned out loud, now moving his ass up and down on Brandon's large tool. "I want to feel you fill my ass with your cum." And with that he rode Brandon harder, now seemingly hopping up and down on his cock. The entire time the hitchhiker would let out a long string of insults and profanities that debased my father, but it just seemed to get my dad off even more. One time he grabbed my dad's neck with one of his hands and seemed to have grasped hard, but all my father did was open his mouth wide and moan louder in ecstasy, his rhythm never slowing, the slapping of his ass on Brandon's thigh never stopping. He was called a whore, a slut, a bitch, and all my father said was yes. It seems that each passing insult was becoming too much for Brandon and I saw him left my father and throw him to the face down, his hand gripping my dad's hair and pushed his face into the sofa. He pointed his huge cock into my dad's hole and began resuming fucking him like a mad dog. "Yeah, such a fucking slut. You're a good slut ain't ya?" He asked with the cockiest grin I'd ever seen. He pulled my dad's head back with his hair and then spit on his face. My dad responded by opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue. I could hear Brandon hocking and saw him spit into my dad's yearning mouth, in the meantime fucking him harder than ever. This went on for a very long time that I began to loose track of time. But as soon as I though this I began to hear a change in Brandon's grunting and panting, becoming more laboured and intense. Every time he plunged his cock into my father was rougher, harder, and longer strokes. "I'm going to cum, I'm going to fucking breed your ass. You want that don't you slut?" He said hoarsely. "Yes please, breed my ass. Cum in me." My dad begged. "What's that boy?" Brandon said angrily, grabbing a fistful of dad's hair and pulled his head back. "What'd you say to me?" "Please sir! Cum in me sir! Breed my ass! Fuck me daddy, please!" My own father moaned. Here he was, my hero, the man who I've aspired to be for a very long time, the man who looked greater than any men in my eyes, shaven, pierced, and begging to be fucked harder and bred by a hitchhiker with a bull cock. "You want it boy, here it is." He said with a grunt and a final thrust and moaned out loud. I could hear my dad moaning too, and I would bet that he probably was cumming as well while Brandon was filling his ass with his spunk. "Fuck." I could see Brandon spasm, his ass driving the cock deeper into my dad's ass sporadically as he came inside my father. After a few minutes he stopped, and all I could hear was Brandon's laboured breathe. He pulled out and took my dad's through with his left hand, and reached down in front of him with the other. He seemed to be collecting something from my dad's ass with his right hand, which he then brought in front of my father's face. I saw his palm, cupped and full of white spunk. He brought it in front of my dad's face. I was surprised by the sheer volume of it present in his cupped hand, and even more surprised when my dad started lapping at Brandon's cum like it was water and he were a dog. "Lap it up bitch." I had barely heard the hitchhiker mutter. And that's just what my dad did. Before I could be caught, and knowing that I had been downstairs long enough, I quickly, and as quietly as I could, made my way back to my room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood as I slowly opened the door, hoping that the hinges would not squeak. They never did, and I quickly found myself on my bed and under its covers. My mind raced a million miles per hour, thought after thought crossing my mind, falling on top of each other that I became disoriented. My entire body burned, my palms were sweaty, my toes were cold and hot at the same time, the same as my chest. My breathing was laboured, and what was more was that I had a hard on. Somehow, I felt exhausted just watching that display. The emotions in me were many and conflicting, and at that moment, and even when I watched, aside from the shock and surprise, I did not know what to feel, let alone knew what to do. As if fatigue made the decision for me, my eyes closed before I had time to think of it any further, or to have done something to the hardness in my pyjamas. *** The next day was an awkward one. It was my dad that woke me up, a kind smile on his face, at least from what I could see through my narrow and tired eye lids. "Wake up bud, it's almost noon. You're not gonna sleep the whole day are ya?" He chided and walked out of my room after opening the blinds, letting the sun fill my room with it's blinding light and heat. I lay in bed for a little while, trying to remember something that happened last night. My mind was sluggish, and at that point I still couldn't tell whether or not I even had a dream, let alone come to the conclusion that it wasn't a dream. I forced myself up eventually and made myself walk over to the bathroom my brothers and I shared to freshen up before going down to breakfast. I still couldn't remember that well while I emptied my bladder and threw water on my face, not until I had made my way downstairs and passed by the living room to see something odd... "What happened to the sofa covers?" I said out loud, to no one in particular. "Oh, uh they got ruined last night. I spilled beer on it last night, so I put the covers in the wash, and I'm letting the cushions dry outside in the sun after cleaning them up." My dad said while ushering a drowsy Kurt beside him to the kitchen. "Come on buddy, up and at 'em." I couldn't help but sniff at the air in the living room. I began to remember the smell that took me last night while I watched from the landing. The musk of the two men, and the sweat between them. There was nothing like that in the air, only value priced air freshener. Pine forest. But I remembered everything that I saw and heard. Was that real? Had that been a dream? Or nightmare? I hadn't decided yet which, if it was. A voice from somewhere nearby roused me from my reverie, someone calling my name. "Hey boy, watcha standin' there for?" A tall man with a broad grin on his rugged, hair shadowed face towered over me. "Ain't ya hungry?" He slapped my back with his two large hands to usher me towards the kitchen. "Oh, morning Brandon." I stammered. "I just hate pine forest." Was all I could say. Brandon just laughed, but for a moment I thought there was something far more than amusement behind his twinkling eyes. Once more he prodded me forward towards the kitchen door. Questions, comments, bitches: azberan@hotmail.com Cheers guys.