This story is an entirely fictional work of adult erotic fantasy, involving consensual sexual relations between related persons.

Copyright me 2017.

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HURLY-BURLY by Boy Mercury X

1.

My sister's wedding week was, as my mother described it, another Hurly-Burly. That was her name for all of my dad's family gatherings.The Hurlys made a habit of big, loud, chaotic Irish gatherings that went too long and usually involved too much drinking.

We gathered at my grandparents' suburban home, which had ample guest rooms, a vast yard and even an inground swimming pool with its own little guest room off to the side. That's where my dad and his sisters grew up, and where they still convened, growing the clan with grandchildren and in-laws. Even divorced exes like my mom often came too, because that's just how it was with the Hurlys. Everyone was welcome, divorce was just a little unpleasantness better off ignored, sort of like my Grandma Hurly's problem with wine.

My sister's wedding was a big enough gathering that even the Hurly estate was maxed. Grandma puzzled over matching her guests and their needs with available rooms, sorting out married couples for first priority, and little kids getting air mattresses, and overall being vexed by the single people who needed a whole bed to themselves.

"Oh I have it," said Grandma Hurly, delighted. "Everyone has a bed, and it's all good. Dan and Travis, you're going to have to sleep together in the pool house."

"The pool house?" said Dad, on hearing his name. "What about my old room?"

"Well we have to put Joe and Peggy there because it's on the ground level and Joe's got a leg brace from his accident."

"And the pool house only has one bed," I said, suddenly feeling very awkward about the prospect of sleeping in it with my dad.

"Well you are just going to have to rough it," said Grandma. She poured a glass of Chardonnay to signal the finality of her decision. "Every room is taken. Every adult is paired up, so I'm putting you single boys together.I tried every which way. The pool house is perfectly good.Travis, your dad used to have sleepovers there when he was young, so it'll be just the same."

"Except I'm forty," said Dad.

But Grandma was done, and the plan was the plan.

2.

As usual the big Hurly meal was filled with fifteen simultaneous conversations roars of laughter. Afterwards Grandpa wanted to show off his new hobby: slideshows of family photos he made on his Mac, broadcast on the flatscreen TV over the fireplace in the family room. In his day, he explained, you'd have to pay someone to make a slideshow but now anyone could do it.

The first slideshow was his and Grandma's cross-country trip to the tune of Roam by the B-52s. This was followed by a slideshow of my sister, the first grandchild and the bride to be, growing up, to Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison. Then came a slideshow of the kids – my dad and his sisters – growing up, to Our House by Madness.  

I knew that my Dad must have helped Grandpa pick out the music, and I knew every song by name and artist because Dad was a huge 80's music guy. While other kids my age had their brans sapped by Barney the Dinosaur or The Wiggles, I grew up knowing the best of The English Beat, The Psychedelic Furs and Elvis Costello.

Like everyone else I was only half paying attention, but one photo caught my eye and I blurted out "Who's that?"

The photo was a bunch of my aunts, and a super hot guy. He had the bro look with a cocked back head, a biker mustache that ran down to his squared off jaw, and a sleeveless black t-shirt with some fine arms, and tight black jeans that covered an impressive bulge. He looked like a wolf.

"Who's who?" asked Gram, and I replied "The guy – who is that?"

My dottie grandma squealed with laughter and said "Travis honey, that's your father!" Everyone but Dad and I laughed too.

I had assumed it was one of our cousins because he looked like a Hurly, but looking again I could see it really was Dad. He had the same blunt nose and manly jawline, but filled out a lot. He even still had a mustache, but not the sexy biker kind, just a regular dad type mustache now.

"I gained some weight," he said, looking a little embarrassed.

"You dad was wild them," said Grandma. "That summer he and his best friend Rudy went motorcycling in Mexico, and some days I didn't know if I'd ever see them again."

"And he was in that God awful band," said Grandpa.

"Is that a JOINT?" blurted my sister, then "Dad, were you a POT HEAD?"

"I may have enjoyed a substance or two," said Dad.

"Or five!" added his sister Peggy.

"What happened?" my sister asked, oblivious to the insinuation of her question that he was so different now.

"You happened," said my mom, wryly. She reached out and patted my sister's head. "Your arrival was not exactly a plan."

"Your dad came back when he got the word you were coming," said Grandpa, affirming the honor of his only son. "He did the right thing. Got a job and settled down."

Dad smiled and nodded to my sister, beaming at her.

This was all a revelation to me and I wanted to see more, so I said "Great slideshows, Grandpa.Show us some more."

3.

I always thought of my dad as just a dad.  Neutral.

By the time I came along he was married to Mom, was already a dad to my sister, and worked as a car dealer. I don't know if he would have finished college if not for my sister being born, or what else he might have done, but car dealing is a personality killer in my opinion. He's all fake smiles and small talk on the job. His clothes are super neutral and boring. I don't even know if he has any hobbies or interests.His apartment is non descript, and when I was younger it was super boring to be there for his custody weekends.

But that photo of Dad looking like a young stud made me see him with new eyes. His features I never paid attention to before I could see for the first time, and he was actually a good-looking man. I could see his fluffy Irish brown and gold hair, his winning smile and superhero jawline that was more fleshy now but still handsome.He had filled out a lot, but looked firm and proportionate – yes, a belly now, but big shoulders and chest too that made it all work.

Maybe forty wasn't that old after all.

Going through Grandpa's photos, I could Dad's life play out. Even after my sister was born, he was a handsome young father. With every year he got a little more beefy, a little more conventional.His hair became more conservative, his mustache more dad-like, but still handsome. Photos of him with my sister and then me at the beach showed a great body, with golden brown hair on big pecs, and a nice soft line of it running down his belly that grew over time but used to be flat as a board. How did I never see before?

Hungry for more, I asked my grandmother if she still had my dad's high school yearbooks, and sure enough she did, still on a shelf in his old bedroom on the ground floor. It was crazy to see him at my own age. He was so boyish compared to now, but still seemed so much more of a man then than I am in comparison. I thought there was something wild in his eyes, and could see how he could go on some crazy motorcycle trip to Mexico.

"Tracy," I said to my sister, "Is Dad, like, fat? I can't tell."

"I don't know," she said. "He's like built-fat. Who cares?"

"I know," I said, holding up the yearbook "but look at how cute he was in high school."

"You're weird," she replied, rolling her eyes.

And she was right.She just didn't know how weird I really was.

4.

In the pool house, late, Dad and I tried to settle in.

"Grandma says you had a lot of sleepovers here," I offered.

He told me Grandpa converted the pool house from sort of a shack to an extra guest room when he was about thirteen, and he and his friends made use of it to get some boy space away from his army of sisters.   

"I didn't bring pajamas," he said to me, "I didn't plan on sharing a bed."

"I don't care," I replied. "I didn't either," and began to strip down to my boxers.

He pulled his polo shirt off, and dropping his slacks, hanging them on the hooks intended for clothes of swimmers. I studied the broad expanse of his back, the white briefs pulled tight over his ass, his thick hairy legs, and thought about what my sister said: "built-fat".

Sliding into bed I felt so boyish compared to my substantial dad. I could feel his heat at my side, like he was a sun and I was just a planet.

"Look how my feet only come down as far as your knees," I said, pushing my toes up to indicate how short I was beside him.

"You take after your mom that way," he said. "You always did."

"Do you remember when I tried to play football?" I asked, which prompted us to both laugh.

 "You were so little," he said, laughing up to the skylight over the bed "you were the littlest kid in your class."

"And there were all those big Samoan kids in school! They were like twice my size and I think they had mustaches! I thought I was going to die, for real."

"We couldn't make you keep doing it," he said. "We let you try wrestling because we thought you'd be in your own weight class, but you quit that too."

"Too many boners," I said, laughing anew.

Dad kissed me on top of the head and said goodnight, and things went still everywhere but inside my head.

5.

I was running in the grass, afraid of whatever was behind me but somehow I didn't know what it was.On one side of the field was my elementary school, and on the other side was my grandparents house, even though they should be in different cities.

There was a mountain in the distance, and I knew I had to run to it. Then I was there, on it, but it wasn't just a mountain, it was a volcano, rumbling. It opened at the top, and there was danger but the heat didn't hurt me. And I was big and small at the same time. I could close my mouth around the top of the volcano, so I could swallow the lava and it couldn't hurt anyone.

It was the volcano, but it was Dad too at the same time, and my face was buried in the fur of his chest, my mouth wrapped around his pointed tit. The sucking pulled something out of him, like hot milk but thicker than milk, filling my mouth and nourishing me. I sucked harder to draw it out, all of it, and then I could feel it passing out of me and back into him in a loop, I knew it was but I couldn't see how it was going from me back to himÉ

And I woke up suddenly, my hips bucking as the wet dream load oozing out of me, soaking through my boxers and into the white cotton briefs pulled tight on my dad's ass.

"OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" I gasped in a panic.

"Trev, what is it?" Dad asked, as I in my panic tried to pat down the bed sheets on the white goo that was now under him. I weighed saying nothing and hoping he wouldn't notice, but he was already reaching his hand under his butt.

"Did you pee the bed?" he asked, then lifted his hand to his face to smell, saying "What the fuck? Trev, did you fucking CUM on me?"

"IT WAS A DREAM!" I said, almost begging for it to all go away, "Dad I don't ever even do that!I mean sleeping!"

He absorbed everything, trying to make sense of it in his sleepy head.

Then he started to laugh, a little then a lot.

"Jesus," he said, "Did you have a wet dream?"

I nodded yes.

"Jesus, to be 16 again," he said, laughing so much that I was able to nervously join in.

He pulled his underwear off, wadded it and tried to dab at any damp spots on the bed. I followed suit, pulling off my boxers, but truthfully I was focused on the sight of Dad's exposed dick, nestled in his dark brown bush.  

"We don't have to tell anyone," he said, lying back in the polluted bed and pulling the sheets up to his broad chest. "I'll wash the sheets tomorrow."

"Should we sleep naked?" I asked, absolutely unsure of family protocol for the unprecedented event of cumming on my dad.

"I'm not wasting another pair of underwear just to sleep in," he said. "I only brought enough for the week."

"Dad, I'm so embarrassed," I whispered.

"Don't worry," he said."It not the first time a teenage boy had a wetdream. Just go to sleep."

I was on my back, next to him, both of us naked as could be, longing for him to wrap his arms around me and pull me close into his chest so I could sleep to the beating of his luscious heart.

6.

The next day I continued my inquiry into Dad's youth. Having so many Hurlys around made it easy to ask a question here, a question there, assembling the puzzle pieces to join together.

He was good enough to be a football star in high school, but not good enough to go pro, bad boy enough to party with the druggie kids but not bad enough to be a druggie himself, rocker enough to play with his buds but not enough to be in a real band, handsome enough to have his choice of girls, but not player enough to have more than a just a few.

No one could tell me about was his mysterious summer after sophomore year of college, the famous motorcycle trip in Mexico with his best friend Rudy, famously interrupted by the news that Mom was pregnant with my sister. All I knew was that call marked the end of fun Dad, and the start of full-on-dad Dad.

I wondered where does all that hotness and that lusty appetite go? Does it die, or is it still there? Was it sleeping like a dormant volcano? And could it be awakened?

That night in the pool house, after yet another massive meal and too much to drink, Dad stripped down and got into bed. This time he didn't even wear underwear.

"No wet dreams on me tonight, Trev," he said, pulling the sheets up.

"Quit it dad," I said."I'm embarrassed enough already."

"I'm sorry," he laughed softly. "I was your age once, I get it."

 "I almost never do that anyway," I said. "Wet dreams I mean."

"Well just take care of yourself in the bathroom if you need to," he told me, making a jerking off motion with his hand.

I declined and said good night.

But if course my dick was hard, and I was hard pressed to sleep. As I tossed and turned I thought about the glimpses of Dad I'd gotten, his nice belly and furry butt. I should have gone to the bathroom to jerk off, but instead reached down to my dick right there in bed with sleeping Dad.

You never know how loud it is to jerk off until you need to do it silently, especially the smacking of the spit in my hand, but I was pretty sure I'd need only a little bit to get off.

I was shocked when Dad suddenly swung around to wrap his arm and a leg around on me. Was he asleep? I froze, and when it seemed like he was still out, I let myself rest into him, my back against his chest and belly, my ass against his dick.Then he snuggled up tight, sliding one arm under me and one under my exposed arm, to wrap tight around me chest.

His face nuzzled up against my shoulder, scratchy from his mustache and whiskers, and it was so ticklish and such a turn on. Then I felt his erection slide up into the spot between my butt and where my thighs meet, and it was hard, and it felt so big. With my one free hand I reached down to my dick, and as I did his rough fingertips brushed my nipples and he kissed my shoulder, and I shot my load, hard splattering the bed sheets. Dad pulled me against him tight, steadying my quaking body.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not sure if I was sorry for jerking off or for cumming too soon. I reached back around to try to get ahold of his cock, but at the same time he caught my hand with his, and pulled it back so it was out of reach.

"Shhhh," he whispered and hugged me tight. "Just two guys fooling around. Go to sleep."

I felt Dad's face against my back, his mustache scratching. As I drifted off, he planted a warm kiss goodnight on my shoulder blade.  I dreamed of something like a vine growing out of the place he kissed, then it grew into an arc like a cupid wing.

7.

Day three was a swim day in my grandparents' pool. Naturally my eyes were drawn to dad. His nipples were quarter sized and brick colored, and his chest and belly hair was plenty but really soft and fine looking.I liked how he had a nice rounded belly the tucked back right over his trunks. His Irish cheeks went pink in the sun, his eyes were the color of honey, and I again wondered how I'd gone my whole life without seeing how adorable he was.

"Mom," I asked, "is it normal to not realize you like something, and then be crazy about it all of a sudden?"

"I don't know what's normal. I guess it is. When you were little you insisted you didn't like anything but cheese pizza, and then one day you tried something more interesting and loved it.Thank God."

"I guess. I did that with Star Trek too. Remember?"

"Oh honey, I don't keep track of your shows." I couldn't tell if she was even looking at me behind her black plate sunglasses.

I looked over at Dad, under water up to his chest, resting his elbows on the edge. He was squinting in the sunlight, the light dancing around him on the water like flashing diamonds.

"Mom, but did you ever like something a lot, something important, that you didn't even know you cared about at all? Like someone?"

"Hm, sounds like a juicy story," she said, pursing her lips. Mom was always about the one to one gossip in conspiratorial tones, but especially after a long time with my dad's boisterous family.

She went quiet when I didn't bite, then said softly "You could say Jonathan was like that.After your dad and I divorced I wasn't looking to fall in love again. And I had worked with Jonathan and never thought of him in any romantic way. Good lord, I would have laughed in your face at one point if you told me I'd be married to him."

"Did you think he was hot?"

"Not hot like you probably think of it. Not obviously."

"What happened," I asked.

"You're going to laugh.One morning he brought me an Egg McMuffin. He went out for one and brought one for me because he remembered that I like them. And I guess my heart just opened to him."

"So he seduced you with McDonald's?"

"Laugh if you must, little man. But he knew that little thing about me that no one else in the whole world even noticed. He knew me. You'll see some day, but that matters. And I just fell for him, a little retroactively, you could say."

The spell of our shared secret broke, and she said, "Well now I'm embarrassed."

We baked in the sun for a few minutes silently, while the Hurlys chattered and laughed all around us.

Then she touched my shoulder gently and said "Trevor, are you in LOVE? Who is she?"

I thought of all the ways I could answer, and finally said simply "Someone unexpected."

8.

In bed I curled up behind Dad, and asked, "Can I be the big spoon?"

"Sure," he said, and let hug him and then laying his beefy arms over mine. My dick tucked slid into the hot spot between under his butt, and I tried to not get a boner but couldn't help it.

I said "Dad, remember when I was a kid and we'd go for long drives and listen to music and talk?"

"Yup."

"And I would talk the whole time and tell you everything, and I guess it was because we were both looking forward, not at each other?"

"I do."

"I'm going to talk now and you need to stay facing forward not looking at me or I won't be able to say it."

He said nothing.

"When I said I quit wrestling because of too many boners, I meant I had too many. Because I liked wrestling with boys. A lot. I like being with them and I want to do things with them. Sex. And I do things, sex things, with myself but not with anyone else yet, that you would shock you. And look at porn and stuff. A lot."

He still said nothing, but wrapped his arms around mine, pulling me tighter against him.

Curled up against his broad warm back, my dick up against his ass, I couldn't help but have an erection that lodged under his ass. But we didn't do anything. I held onto him, and whispered all my secrets against his skin until I fell asleep, with some last mystery half revealed under my breath.

9.

The next day was the worst. It was when my sister's new in-laws arrived.

Dad was unusually distant, constantly asking his own disorganized parents what else needed to be done for the big dinner that night. He carried chairs and moved tables, and of course I noticed the damp of his armpits as he worked up a sweat.

At dinner, Frank and Evie, the bride's parents, tried to get the low-down on our family.

"So, you're the car salesman," said Frank to my dad, but then turned to Mom, "but for your father, but you all are divorced. Do I have that right?"

Everyone laughed."Yeah," said my dad, "have been since college."

"We need an org chart," said Mom. "It's all very incestuous."

Oh mom, I thought, if only you knew.

Dad made a toast, everyone cheered. I thought he looked a little self-conscious. I thought to everyone else there he was a good-looking man, a big-shouldered dad with a man's belly.But what I knew that almost no one else did was that under that belly was a big cock, and I wanted to see it and touch it. I could see it in my mind's eye even then.

After the meal and chatter, Mom organized the clearing of the table, knowing the Hurlys were constitutionally incapable of any linear process.She told me to go keep an eye on Grandma, saying, "she's already had too much and the last thing we need is her to be hung over for the wedding."

Her happiness only increasing with chaos, and thrilled to have everyone around Grandma was as elated as I'd ever seen her. "Isn't this FUN?" she almost squealed to me.

"It is, Gram."

She then leaned in close to me and whispered "Did your mother send you to monitor me?"

I shrugged, and said "Maybe a little."

Gram laughed loud."Well then you have to help me," she said holding her wine glass up to me. I took it and had a sip. It was more acidic tasting than I expected, but sweet too. I had another sip.

"Trevor," she said, "you're the next oldest grandchild. So you'll probably get married next."

"Oh I don't know about that," I said, and my heart panged for my dad.

"I know not yet," she said. "College first. ButÉ." she paused, then put her hand on my cheek and said "since it's legal now. For you to get married."

"Gram?" I asked.

"I know I'm daft and silly," she said, "but I see things. I had a special friend who was a boy when I was your age. He was so sweet. And then your father's friend Rudy, he was a special boy too. And you too. So darling. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for my special boys. You know what I mean."

She kissed my cheek hard, and my eyes stung with unexpected tears.

 

10.

Dad settled in on his back in bed, and placed his pillow between us.

"Needing a little distance?" I asked, offended.

"It's just hot tonight is all," he said.

"I like snuggling," I said.

"Yeah Trev, I am well aware that you like snuggling."

"I'm sorry I grossed you out," I said, feeling stupid.

"You didn't gross me out," he said. "Trev, you're just making this really hard for me."

"How?"

"Well for one thing – Jesus – I have not had, you know – sex – for a long time. And then we're sharing a bed and you're 16 and have a boner all the time and it's just, Jesus, Trevor, yknow?"

"How long is a long time?" I asked, and pulled up close next to him despite the pillow between us.

"A long time.Since your mom and I divorced, basically."

"Dad that's years!You could get a – a girlfriend or something."

"At first I thought your mom and I would get back together. So I just worked a lot, killed free time at the gym and watching TV, came to have dinner with my parents every week."

I wrapped slid the pillow away and he let me, and wrapped around him, feeling too small to do much good.

"You could date, Dad.You're still really good looking.Like really good looking. And fit. You could get a girlfriend no problem."


"I don't even know how to date. I only did a little before I married your mom, and it's not like high school where you date someone you see everyday.It's not like I had a plan for things to be like this. It just happened."

"Is this the life you wanted?" I asked, feeling like it was 100 different questions wrapped up in one.

"I don't know what I wanted," he said.

The night seemed so quiet, and I had no adequate response, so I propped up on my elbow and Dad turned to face me. I leaned in and kissed him on the mouth, and then again, and then our tongues brushed up against each other.

"I don't want to gross you out," I said, "but maybe could we jerk off together? Like just a couple of guys?"

He looked in my face and I smiled to show how okay I was, trying to say with my eyes I really really want to.He said "One time."

I dropped to my back and we both started stroking our dicks, facing the dark sky over us.

I was so turned on by the site of Dad jerking off, his legs spreading and his back arching. I couldn't resist being closer and turned to face him, wrapping my leg around one his, and kissing his arm. I could hear him inhale deeply, and kiss him again, and let one hand roam over his chest.

He was working his dick a lot faster then, his eyes were closed and he was thrusting with his hips into the air.

"Do it Dad, cum for me," I said, and almost on command his hips thrust hard and his cock began to spew cum. First one short white streak, then a huge arc of white that land on Dad's chest and belly and my arm, then smaller arcs, again and again. It was more cum than I'd ever shot myself, and I was mesmerized as his pumped his cock and it oozed out of him and he shuddered.

As he eased up, he turned to face me so I could drop onto my back again and work my own dick. I was jerking so hard and fast but wasn't cumming. He ran a hand over my stomach and chest. "That was really great Trev, I want you to go too."

"Fuck," I said, yanking furiously, "I don't know why I can't."

"Let me try," he said, and wrapped his hand around my dick. I surrendered it to him and his slower strokes. He pressed his mouth to mine and his tongue slid in, snaking against mine.

It felt so good, I just gave myself up to him, and with a few more strokes I was cumming, gasping as his tongue drive deeper into my mouth, and I was done.

After wiping off, we snuggled up together, feeling some euphoria in each other's closeness.

"I love you Dad," I said, and he said "I love you Trev," and you could almost hear the sleepiness thick in his voice.

I stayed awake as long as I could, to stay in the moment. And then I dreamt.

11.

The wedding day was as chaotic as any Hurly-Burly ever. The whole thing took place on my grandparents lawn.

Dad was handsome and happy and proud. I wore a crisp white shirt and a gold vest Mom bought for the occasion. I looked pretty good in it, and hoped Dad would notice. I wanted to look good for him.

Neither Dad nor I spoke of the night before. Even though it was foremost in my mind, even I could see there was no way, no place, for words. What could we say, and when could we say it? No one could know anything had happened, but during the vows, I pondered the words silently, looking only at Dad.

When it was time for formal family photos, we gathered in various family configurations that must have been dizzying for the photographer.

Mom reapplied her red lipstick, and then said to me "Grill check!"

That was our traditional cue to smile wide, baring our teeth to each other to check for any errant food or, in Mom's case, traces of lipstick.

I told her she was perfect, and she was.

My sister and her new husband had their first dance, and then others joined in.

Grandma and Grandpa danced, Mom and Jonathan, the aunts and their husbands, the new in-laws did too.The little cousins all danced, jumped and spun. Old people danced, kids danced by themselves and in bunches. Everyone danced, except me and Dad.

The wedding band played a medley of the sort of things you hear at weddings – Marry You by Bruno Mars, Let's Stay Together by Al Green, When I'm 64 by the Beatles.

I made my way to the manager of the wedding band, and whispered in his ear.

I rushed back as the wedding singer paused and said "We have a special request for something classic, not our usual thing but let's give it a try -- "

"Don't tell me you don't know what love is / When you're old enough to know betterÉ"

I stood before Dad, made an exaggerated courtly bow, and said, "May I have the honor of this dance?"

"My favorite song," he said. His smile filled my heart to bursting.

"Duh," I said."I know that."

He stood up and clumsily we joined hands and found our bearings.

"Chapter One: We didn't really get along / Chapter Two: I think I fell in love with you/ You said you'd stand by me in the middle of Chapter Three/But you were up to your old tricks in Chapters Four, Five and Six."

The room spun around us, hand in hand. I could see everyone I loved and they could see me, whether they knew it or not.

"I'm giving you a longing look/Everyday/Everyday/Everyday I write the book."

Everyone laughed as Dad spun me quickly, and I crashed into him and stayed there. I pressed my face tight against his chest, hoping to hear his heart beating to me I do, I do.

THE END