Date: Sat, 22 Aug 2020 02:41:19 -0400
From: Athair Mic <thckhrd8@gmail.com>
Subject: Homeschooling for Dads - Part 2 (Gay/Incest)

This story is a work of fiction, the characters are not real, and any
resemblance to anyone real or imaginary is purely coincidental. It contains
sex with underage boys and sex with family members. If you are offended by
such material, please stop now.


If you would like to contact me to discuss story ideas, your fantasies, and
your own memories of family fun, or you just want to chat with a big-dicked
Daddy who loves incest stories, email me at thckhrd8@gmail.com.


Also, remember that Nifty needs your donations to provide these stories so
please donate.

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Notes:

All of my stories take place in the same universe where teen boys are
insatiable and men like it that way.


Homeschooling for Dads - Part 2


     I found myself checking in on Mickey's web browsing several times the
next day. I had abandoned my work, as all I could think of was my son
sitting in his room, pleasuring himself while watching the same videos I
had been.

     That night, just as the night before, Mickey wore his Speedo and put
on a show with peeling it off once he had finished swimming. However, this
time, after changing back into clothes, he didn't bother to put on a
shirt. I spent the whole evening trying not to stare at his pert pink
nipples or the defined edges of his chest muscles.

     "Dad, are you okay? You seem distracted," he asked. As if he didn't
know why.

     "No, sorry, Mickey. I'm paying attention."

     "No problem," Mickey responded before sliding closer to show me what
he had been discussing. A moment later, he placed his hand on my thigh for
support as he leaned forward to grab another book. At his touch, I felt a
shock of electricity shoot to my crotch. As he sat back down, he let his
hand linger on my thigh. My cock was as hard as iron, and it was impossible
to hide it in my pants. I hoped that if I ignored it, then Mickey wouldn't
notice, but I'm not sure that I was entirely successful in my attempt, as
Mickey occasionally seemed to be taking quick glances at my lap. He also
kept returning his hand to my thigh at several moments throughout the night
when he was making some point or the other.

     After an evening of being teased, I jacked off in the shower, slowly
stroking myself as I imagined what it would have been like if Mickey had
let his hand wander up to my crotch and had cupped it, pawing at it as I
moaned with pleasure. What would it have been like if he had undone my belt
and unzipped my pants? Would he have pulled my cock out and wrapped his
lips around it like the boys in the videos we had been watching? As I came,
I imagined my hot load shooting down Mickey's throat.

     The next few days followed the same pattern. I would spend my days
watching the porn that my son had watched before me, and then in the
evening, I would lust after my son, as Mickey seemed to be wearing less
clothing each night. Last night proved too much as Mickey joined me in the
basement, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. The torture of easily seeing
the outline of his thickening erection and not being able to touch it was
set off by the reinsurance that I had not been imaging that Mickey was
acting differently and possibly even trying to seduce me.

     I couldn't bear this much longer, and I needed to talk to someone
about this. Maybe if I were careful with what I said, and made sure that he
understood that I was trying to shut this down, rather than taking it
further, Mr. McArthur would be able to talk me through this. He'd been so
insightful previously, and I couldn't think of anyone else I could even
begin to discuss this with.

     ***

     "You sounded quite concerned in your message, Declan. Is Mickey okay?"
Mr. McArthur asked once our video call began.

     "Well, yes and no," I answered. "Mickey's not ill, but there are a few
things I was hoping to discuss with you."

     "Of course, what is going on?"

     "I decided to follow your advice from our last discussion and remove
all of the blockers from Mickey's computer, and as I worried, he has been
searching for and watching a lot of pornography," I explained.

     "We thought that might be the case once you removed the blockers."

     "Yes, but he is watching far more than I thought that he would be."

     "I see. Do you think that this is distracting from his school work? Is
he falling behind on his research project?" Mr. McArthur asked.

     "Well, no. He doesn't seem to be. He's meeting his deadlines."

     "Okay. Do you mind if I ask why this is a concern then? We both know
what the sex drive of a young man can be. If it isn't impairing other
aspects of his life, what do you see the issue being? Is it the subject
matter of the pornography?"

      Fuck. There was no getting around it. Mr. McArthur's insightfulness
was a mixed blessing. Hopefully, he would be able to provide advice without
too much judgment.

     "I was surprised by the subject matter."

     "Was it gay porn? We expected that, didn't we?"

     "Yes," I answered. "That's not really my concern. My issue is the
theme of the videos. Mickey seems to watch videos featuring young men with
much older partners exclusively."

     "So Dad/Son scenarios."

     "Sometimes literally," I mumbled.

     "What do you mean?"

     "Many of the videos have storylines where the two performers are
portraying actual father and son. Mickey knows that I can see what he is
watching, and these are the videos he chooses?"

     "I see. Are you wondering if he is trying to send you a message?"

     When I didn't reply for a few moments, he continued.

     "Are you wondering if Mickey is trying to tell you that he is sexually
attracted to you? If he is, how does that make you feel?"

     "Confused," I admitted.

     "In what way?"

     "I know that I should be repulsed at the idea..."

     "But you aren't," he surmised.

     "No," I answered in barely a whisper.

     "You find the idea exciting as well. The idea that your son may want
to have sex with you is arousing. Is that what you are saying?"

     "Yes. I'm a horrible person, aren't I?"

     "Of course not," he chuckled. "It's no more abnormal that a father
might fantasize about being with his son any more than it is for Mickey to
want to have sex with you. Fathers and sons have a unique bond, and it's
normal for both of them to want to make that bond as close as possible."

     "I don't know what to do."

     "I think you need to have a frank discussion with Mickey. Nothing is
going to be cleared up with both of you not saying what you need to
say. You should set him down and discuss the videos you've been watching
and the feelings you have been experiencing."

     "Do you think that will help?"

     "Declan, let me share something with you. I have been in your
shoes. J.J. began watching the same types of videos after I had removed his
internet blockers, and I was as concerned as you. And as confused as you
are. I found myself watching the videos myself and being turned on by them
as well. I sat J.J. down and had a long talk about why he was watching
these videos. However, I was also honest about the fact that I was watching
them and how I was responding to them."

     "And how did that go?" I asked.

     "It went well. We exposed our true selves to each other and talked
through what our needs and desires were in our relationship as father and
son. Our bond is stronger than ever, and we have a new level of intimacy."

     "So, it can't hurt."

     "I promise you it won't. But the sooner, the better," Mr. McArthur
advised.

     "I'll do it tonight."

     ***

     I paced back and forth as I waited for Mickey to join me in the
basement. I decided that the best course of action would be to view one of
the videos we had both watched multiple times and discuss it in specifics
rather than just talking in the abstract that could let us be vague and not
accomplish anything.

     Mickey sauntered down the steps into the basement. This evening he had
clearly decided that boxer briefs were not enticing enough and was wearing
a tight pair of briefs that cupped his package and his ass as lovingly as
his Speedos. My mind went blank for a moment as I felt all of my blood rush
to my cock. This wasn't going to be easy.

     "I read an interesting article today about the perception of same-sex
attraction in all-male English boarding schools in the late 19th century,"
Mickey began, reaching for one of his books as he settled on the sofa.

     "Mickey. I think we need to talk about something else tonight."

     "Sure, Dad. What do you want to talk about?"

     I sat down on the sofa next to him and hit play on my laptop. On the
widescreen TV in front of us, the video began to play. A young man kneeled
in front of an older man and reached up to undo the button to the man's
pants.

     "I think we need to talk about this," I said.

     "What..." Mickey began as he turned to look at me.

     "There is no reason to pretend that you don't know what this
is. You've watched it many times along with other videos like it."

     "I thought you said you wouldn't be spying on me," he protested.

     "I haven't been. But you know that I can see what you've been
watching. I wanted to talk about why this is the type of video you like so
much."

     As we turned to look at the TV again, the young man slid the older
man's cock deeper into his throat as the man thrust forward moaning, "Take
it, Son." Mickey's cheeks began to flush, and I could see in his eyes that
he was frightened or at least worried.

     "Mickey, there is no need to be embarrassed. It's okay if this is a
fantasy of yours." I took a deep breath and dove in. "In fact, I've been
watching the same videos, and I'm equally excited by them. They're really
hot."

     Mickey's eyes brightened at that. "You have?" he asked.

     "Yes, I have. Because you said you wouldn't watch anything you didn't
want me to know about, I assumed that you might want me to watch it as
well. Did you?"

     After a moment, Mickey met my gaze. "Yes. I really wanted you to watch
them."

     "So, were you trying to send me a message?"

     "I'm not sure...I don't know," he stammered. "It's just that these
types of videos get me harder than any others...and when I watch them, I
imagine that I am the boy."

     "I do, too," I confessed.

     "Do you imagine that you are the man, Dad? Because I do."

     "I do, Mickey. I imagine that those two are you and me," I said as I
motioned to the screen. The man and the boy had moved to the bed and were
passionately kissing.

     Mickey moved towards me, planting his lips against mine. I felt the
heat of his mouth, and before I could think, my instincts kicked in. I
returned the kiss, my mouth opening to the pressure of my son's tongue as
he slid it forward. Our lips fought for dominance, as did our tongues,
wrestling in the wet heat. Before my lust became all-consuming, I had the
presence of mind to push Mickey off of me gently.

     "We can't, Mickey."

     "Why not, Dad?"

     "Because it would be wrong. These feelings aren't real. We're just
caught up in this fantasy," I explained.

     Mickey reached out and cupped his hand against my obviously throbbing
erection. "Well, this feels real to me," he whispered while running his
hand up and down my cock through my constricting trousers. With his other
hand, he pulled my arm towards his crotch, placing my palm against his own
equally hard erection. "And this is real."

     I wasn't strong enough to remove my hand from my son's crotch without
first squeezing it, admiring the size of his young cock, and the steeliness
of his hard-on.

     "This isn't how I wanted this to go," I said, though part of me knew
that that was a lie. This was precisely how my lustful, primitive libido
wanted this to go.

     "Look at what you do to me, Dad," Mickey commanded as he hooked his
thumbs into the band of his briefs and slid them down his legs, exposing
himself to me. His meaty cock sprang up once released, and I admired the
noticeable veins that surrounded the shaft and the copious amounts of
pre-cum seeping from the tip. My mouth watered as Mickey slowly stroked up
and down his cock while staring me dead in the eyes. "I know I do the same
thing to you."

     My resolve, what little there was of it, melted quickly.

     "Dad, I want to see you. Please take off your pants," Mickey
begged. My body went on autopilot again, and I found my fingers working to
undo my belt and unzip my pants. I reached into my underwear and pulled out
my cock. Mickey gasped at the sight of it, licking his lips as I began to
match the rhythms of his strokes on my own cock.

     We sat opposite each other, jacking our cocks as we looked back and
forth between our cocks and each other's eyes. Mickey looked happier than I
had ever seen him, with a boyish glee mixed into the aroused expression
that covered his face. After a few more minutes of silence with only the
moans of the video playing in the background, Mickey moved forward again
and wrapped his soft hand around my cock, taking over the stroking of
it. My eyes rolled back in my head at the sheer delicious pleasure of it.

     "Your cock is so beautiful, Dad. It's everything I imagined," Mickey
whispered into my ear. Once again, he moved my hand to his cock, wrapping
my palm around it. Lightning shot through me at the touch. How could this
be happening? Why did it feel so right?

     Mickey released my cock, and I let out a little whine at the loss of
his touch. He reached for the hem of my shirt and pulled it off over my
head before beginning to explore my hairy chest on the way back down to my
crotch. The speed of our strokes increased. We were both too excited, too
frenzied to pace ourselves. Mickey pressed himself firmly against me, and I
felt my hand, still gripping his youthful cock, wedged between our
bodies. I stroked it as Mickey thrust himself against me, moaning as the
head of his cock rubbed against my abdomen.

     "Dad, I'm close," he managed to choke out. "I'm going to cum."

     Before I could respond, I felt his cock begin to throb and wet jets of
semen land on my stomach. "Fuck, Dad," Mickey cried out. He collapsed
against me, catching his breath. But he never slowed the rhythm of his
strokes, and soon I felt my orgasm beginning to build.

     "Mickey. Mickey," I warned. "Mickey, I'm going to cum."

     Mickey pulled himself off me and scrambled onto his knees in front of
me. I felt him grip me tighter and increase the speed of his strokes even
more.

     "Mickey!" I yelled out one more time. Mickey bent his head down, and
at the feel of his lips wrapping around the head of my cock I began to
shoot. Ropes of cum shot against the back of his mouth as he swallowed my
load as quickly as he could. My son was eating my cum, savoring it, in
fact. He sounded like it was the most delicious thing he had ever
tasted. As my orgasm subsided, Mickey pulled back off my cock, lapping at
my slit to gather any cum he may have missed. Once he had made sure that he
hadn't overlooked any there, he slowly slid his mouth and tongue down the
sides of my cock. He'd always been very tidy.

     "That was amazing, Dad."

     My mind was a fog, and I could barely make a coherent thought. Mickey
moved forward to devour my cock once again when I placed my hands against
his shoulders, pushing him back.

     "Wait, Mickey."

     "Why?" he asked.

     "Well, first, I need to catch my breath. Second, I think this is
enough for today. We need to take some time to reflect on this. We can't
get more carried away tonight."

     "If you think so, Dad," Mickey said with a look of disappointment.

     "Let's just call it a night, and we can talk tomorrow."

     He picked his underwear off the carpet and put them back on before
heading back up the stairs; his shoulders slumped in disappointment. I
tried to shake my head, hoping to clear some of the haze. I was more
confused than ever. Had I meant for our talk to put the brakes on whatever
this was, or had I known that this would speed everything up? The truth was
that I suspected it was the latter. And it had felt so good. Mickey's hands
on my body, my cock, and his lips on mine, his lips on my cock, all of it
had felt better than anything else I had ever experienced. I had only made
him stop because I was afraid that I wouldn't ever be able to myself if I
didn't. I knew it might prove to be a costly mistake, but I needed to talk
to Mr. McArthur. He was the only person who could possibly understand. And
even then, I had my doubts.

     ***

     "Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice," I said as he
answered my video call the next afternoon.

     "Of course, Declan. I know you're dealing with some sensitive
issues. How did your conversation go?" He asked.

     "Ahhh...I'm not sure."

     "Tell me what happened."

     "Well, I thought that it would be good if we watched one of the videos
and discussed what we were feeling and why."

     "That seems like a good plan. How did that go?"

     "I'm really not sure. It automatically made both of us aroused from
the beginning, and we didn't get far in our discussions before, well, I
don't know how to say this, before we crossed over a line and things became
physical." My face drained of blood as I made the admission.

     "Congratulations!" he chimed.

     "What?" I asked, confused.

     "Isn't that what you wanted? In our discussions, you indicated that
you wanted to be closer to Mickey and that you desired to be with him as
much as he wanted to be with you."

     "I know I said that, but I thought your advice was meant to help to
dissipate the sexual tension. To bring a stop to all of this," I stumbled.

     "Why would I do that? Why would I stop a father and son from being
together the way that they want to be together?"

     "Because it's wrong. Isn't it?" I asked.

     "Did it feel wrong to you when you and Mickey...what is it that you
did?"

     "We kissed, and we masturbated each other. And once I ejaculated,
Mickey placed my penis in his mouth to clean up the mess." I don't think I
had ever been so embarrassed.

     "Declan, can I be frank with you?"

     "Of course."

     "Ok. Let's put it all on the table. You're hot as fuck son is crawling
all over you, and you can't stop thinking about ramming your fat cock into
his sweet hole, am I right?"

     I had never heard him speak like this. It was a surprise and also a
real turn on.

     "Yes."

     "You want to fuck him, and he wants you to fuck him. So fuck
him. Societal judgments be damn. Society is always trying to keep people
from being their true selves," he admonished.

     "Is this what you meant when you said that you and J.J. were more
intimate?"

     "Did I not make that clear? I've been fucking J.J. since he was
Mickey's age, and neither of us has ever been happier. J.J.!" he called.

     A strapping young man came over to Mr. McArthur's desk. His deep
auburn hair and green eyes, along with his tight body, made for a sexy
package. Mr. McArthur reached up to cup the side of his son's head and
pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

     "Tell Mr. Fusco how much you like me fucking you."

     "Hi, Mr. Fusco. I love having sex with Dad," he chirped.

     "Actually, this is turning me on," Mr. McArthur said. He pushed back
from his desk, and while still sitting in his chair, he reached down and
unzipped his pants and pulled out his impressive cock. "J.J., suck my
dick."

     J.J. kneeled beside his father and eagerly began to nurse on the man's
cock. Mr. McArthur closed his eyes and savored the sensation for a moment
as he firmly gripped the back of his son's neck, directing him up and down
his cock. He opened his eyes and looked directly at me.

     "This could be you, Declan. You want this, don't you?"

     I didn't know what to say. I was rock hard watching his son suck his
cock. Thoughts of Mickey doing the same to me filled my head.

     "I asked you a question, Declan. Do you want this?"

     "Yes," I admitted.

     "Then go take it."

     ***

     It took me a moment, but I took a deep breath and made a
decision. There was no going back from this, but I didn't want to go back
to a boring life with a boring wife. I wanted to be a lustful sex fiend, a
rutting animal, fucking my son. And my son wanted to be the same. It was
time for me to stop doing what I thought I was supposed to do and start
doing what I want. I got up from my desk and went directly to Mickey's
bedroom door, where I wrapped my knuckles against it loudly.

     "Yeah?" Mickey asked as he opened his door.

     "Get ready and meet me in the basement in 10 minutes."

     "Ready for what?"

     "Don't be cute. You know what for. 10 minutes."

     I went directly to the basement, closing the drapes on the doors
leading out to the pool. I turned on another video, fast-forwarding to the
point at which the son was moaning as his father slid his cock into the
boy's ass, and undressed to my briefs. I heard Mickey begin to come down
the stairs.

     "Lock the door," I called.

     I heard a click and then saw Mickey in a robe descend the last few
steps. As he reached the bottom, he undid the belt and shimmied out of it,
as naked as the day he was born. He licked his lips and took a few steps
before falling to his knees in front of me. He reached up and began to pull
down my shorts, which were doing a poor job of hiding my throbbing cock.

     Mickey immediately wrapped his fist around it and drew it to his
mouth. He kissed the head before beginning to swipe his tongue along the
shaft. Yesterday, I had been reticent, but today, I knew I wanted my cock
down my son's throat, and I would have it.

     "Suck my cock, Mickey," I commanded.

     He complied immediately, wrapping his lips around the head and began
to bob eagerly up and down. His mouth felt like hot wet velvet as I pushed
deeper and deeper into it. I placed my hand at the back at his head and
pushed in further until Mickey began to gag. I released my grip, and Mickey
pulled off of it, spit dripping from his mouth.

     "I love your cock, Dad," he smiled.

     I smiled back as I pushed his head back onto it.

     "Suck it, boy. Play with my balls," I commanded.

     I was in heaven for the next few minutes as Mickey performed a blow
job that belied his age. He seemed to awaken every nerve in my body. I
opened my eyes and spotted the couple on the screen fucking
roughly. Mickey's mouth on me felt amazing, but I knew it wouldn't be
enough. I wanted everything. I wanted to own my son's body. I looked down
and once again pulled Mickey off of my cock.

     "Do you want your Dad's cock up your hole?" I asked.

     "Yes, Please!"

     "Get on the couch," I told him.

     Mickey scrambled onto it and turned his head to look back over his
shoulder with a glazed lustful look and a big grin.
     "Fuck me, Dad."

     He was on all fours, naked with his back arched and his round
14-year-old ass high in the air. I climbed onto the couch behind him,
positioning myself above him and stared into his winking, puckered
asshole. I don't think I'd ever seen anything quite so beautiful. My girthy
8-inch cock was as hard as it had ever been, but the sight of his hole
ignited a fire in my balls.

     My two favorite things in the world, my boy and my cock, would now be
one. I grabbed my cock at the base and slapped it along the length of his
ass crack, aiming the weighty head at his pucker, beating it against his
hole time and time again. With each hit, a small moan escaped from Mickey's
mouth that sounded like a muffled, "please."

     "You are so sexy, son. I can't wait to be inside you, but first I'm
going to eat out your ass. I'm so hungry for the taste of you, Mickey."

     He lifted his head and looked back at me again. It was like I was
looking in a mirror. My dark hair and light blue eyes that always elicited
compliments. A square jaw. My long, lean swimmers build. There was never
any question of whether or not he was mine. He would always be mine.

     "Dad, you have no idea how long I've wanted this."

     "Me too, Son. Me too."

     I leaned down and took a long wet swipe of my tongue along his ass
crack. His head fell back on his arms with another sexy moan. I took
another swipe and then focused the tip of my tongue against his tight hole,
pushing in slightly. I kept trying to advance further in with my tongue,
opening him with my mouth. I locked my lips around his hole and began to
eat his ass like I was starving. Sucking and licking, shaking my head from
side to side and up and down. I hummed into his hole. I wanted to give him
chills, and I succeeded in making his skin break out in goosebumps, his
dark body hairs standing at attention.

     "Dad, you are so fucking good."

     "You are delicious, Mickey."

     I dove back into his hole, loosening it with my tongue and soaking his
ass in spit, getting it slick to ease entry when I slid in my cock. Though
large, I knew that Mickey could take it. I knew that his hole was meant to
take my cock. We would fit together like puzzle pieces, completing each
other, joined in lust. I moved back up, reluctantly releasing my son's
asshole from the prison of my mouth. He whimpered at the abandonment. Those
whimpers quickly transformed into moans as I once again slapped my cock
against this ass.

     "Please, Dad. I can't wait any longer. I need you to fuck me!" he
pleaded. His voice rose in volume as his need continued to grow. "I need
your cock, Dad!"

     His pleas stopped short as the head of my cock breached his hole. His
words became gibberish, and he bucked up at the intrusion. I've never felt
anything so tight and yet welcoming. The head spread his hole and soon was
fully inside. His ass pulsated against the shaft of my cock as I slid
slowly in, bit by bit, making sure I wasn't moving too quickly. His ass was
perfection.

     "I'm fucking you, Mickey. Can you feel me fucking you?"

     "Yes, Dad. It's so good. Harder. Fuck me harder."

     I was fucking my son, my 14-year-old son, and though I knew that this
should feel wrong, nothing had ever felt so right. I was grateful that
Mickey had been insistent, wearing me down until I admitted that his need
was a reflection of my own.

     "Oh, God, Mickey. You feel so good!" I moaned louder than I meant
to. I was lucky that the basement had been soundproofed. The thought that
my wife was above us watching our seven-year-old twins play before their
bedtime, unaware that I was just below her, sliding my cock into her young
son, my young son, made me thrust faster and harder into Mickey's throbbing
hole.

     I reached forward and wrapped my forearm around my son's neck. I
pulled him up and back against my chest. His skin was hot and slick as I
crushed him against my furred chest. I leaned into his ear, licking the
lobe before whispering, "Look up."

     He did as I commanded, and we made eye contact in the mirror to the
side of the couch. He broke into a grin as we watched our bodies gyrating
together. I could see the innocent boy of years past mixed with the young
man he was now, and I thrust harder into him.

     "Fuck me, Dad. Fuck Me!" he pleaded.

     "I'm fucking you, Boy," I growled, the speed of my thrusts
increasing. Harder and faster, I fucked his tight hole that still clenched
against my hefty shaft. "You feel so fucking good, Mickey. You're going to
make me cum. Do you want that, Boy? Do you want me to cum in you?"

     "Breed me, Dad. Make me your cumdump."

     I felt the pressure build in my balls, tightening, preparing to
explode. "Oh, fuck, Mickey," I shouted. His ass clenched once more, and it
was over. I thrust as each shot escaped the head of my cock. Shot after
shot of cum landed in my son's gut. I had never cum this much, not even
when I was Mickey's age. I was branding my son's ass as my own with my hot
load.

     "I love you, Mickey. You know that, don't you?" I panted.

     He turned and placed a sweet, sexy kiss on my lips.

     "I know, Dad. I love you, too. Can we go again?" he asked.

     "Always," I promised.