Date: Wed, 31 Jul 2002 11:27:36 -0400 From: Tom Cup Subject: In My Father's Arms By Tom Cup - A/Y Incest Copyright 2000, 2001, 2002 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ The Paratwa Partnership, Inc. is a publication and marketing agency and is not responsible for the content of the Tom Cup Library, TomCup.com or its affiliate sites, or for stories written by Mr. Cup or his associates. ************************************************************************ In My Father's Arms By Tom Cup All Rights Reserved. At 16 I am what I like to think of as an unisex male. I know that some of my mannerisms can be mistaken as feminine but I am proud of being a boy. Part of my problem is that I spent my first ten years of life under the care of my mother; part of the problem is that I have her body frame, and part of the problem is that I'm gay. Put all that together and you have a boy that loves being a boy, loves being with boys, and a boy that is often mistaken for a girl. That fact was cute when I was little, toddling along side of my mother, but when Mom died shortly after my eleventh birthday and I was living full time with my Dad the cuteness became embarrassing. I admired my Dad. Not just because he's my Dad but because he's good looking, physically fit and pleasant to be around. I missed my Mom but Dad did everything he could to make sure we adjusted to your new lives together with as little strain as possible. Being eleven at the time and starting to guess at my sexual orientation was a terrifying experience. I didn't want to lose my Dad because I was gay but I still couldn't resist stealing glimpses of him as he came out of the bath from a shower or got undressed before a swim in our backyard pool. I loved looking at him, the massive, sculpted, chest; his bulging arms and thighs, and the swinging meat between his legs. Dad never seemed to be ashamed or hesitant about allowing me to view his body. Even when he would catch me peeking he would just smile and wink and go about what he was doing. He never made me feel embarrassed about seeing him nude though I always was -- I knew that my desires to touch him and be touched by him were socially unacceptable. Many of my nights of self-experimentation involved fantasies of my father. Dad never re-married but he did date off and on after Mom died. Those times were times of deep frustration and insecurity for me. As I experimented with my own sexuality, sometimes listening to the sounds of my father and a date as they satisfied each other in Dad's bedroom, I longed all the more to be touched, loved, by my father. Sometime after my thirteenth birthday I started experimenting with Harold, a kid that moved in down the street for the odd span of eight months. Harold and I had nothing in common except we were both wildly curious about sex. Harold's was the first penis I sucked and the first person that I allowed to finger me, all the while pretending that it was Dad's cock in my mouth and his finger in my ass. After Harold moved away, I continued to experiment with both my cock and my ass. Some of the best orgasms that I obtained were while Dad was busy doing some chick and I lay in my bed with a carrot up my butt pretending that he was doing me. My crisis came when I was 15, on Father's Day weekend of 2001. Dad had been seeing Tiffany for about three months. It was a record. I could tell things were getting serious. Dad would usually go out with someone once, maybe twice and it was over. If the chick got to a third date it was because Dad wanted to let her down easy -- to explain that it wasn't her and that he just wasn't the long term relationship type. So when Tiffany kept showing up after the third date, I started to get nervous. When she started to stay over weekends I was panicked -- I couldn't even bring myself off on those weekends. But when Dad announced that Tiffany would be coming over Father's Day weekend and staying to spend Father's Day with us, I went ballistic! "No Dad! Father's Day is supposed to be our special day! I don't want her here this weekend. I don't like her!" "Michael, come on, give a guy a break. I'm tired of being alone." "You're not alone!" I screamed, "You have me!" I ran to my room, slamming the door behind me, and crashed upon my bed. I was weeping bitterly with my back to the door when I heard Dad knocking and asking to come in. I could barely talk; I was in such distress. Dad sat on my bed and began rubbing my back. "Come on my Mike. You know I love you but I need a warm body in bed at night. Maybe you're too young to know how good it feels just to have someone in bed with you." "I know what you want," I said sniffling and turning to face him, "I can give you all those things. I want to." Dad's face registered shock. I hadn't meant to say what I said to him but it was out, I was lusting after my own Dad. The day that I feared had arrived. I would surely be sent away. I cried even more bitterly. I waited for the door to slam, for some indication of how disgusting Dad viewed my admittion. I felt him gently stroking my shoulder. I dared to look back at him. His eyes met mine. He brushed a lock of my hair from my face and shook his head. I could see his mind wrestling with what I had said. I knew he couldn't believe the words and yet part of him, I knew, wanted me. "I really mean it Daddy," I whispered turning into his lap and holding onto him for dear life as I confessed my love and lust for him, "I want to be with you. I always have. I'll do anything just let it be you and me. Please. Just you and me." Dad didn't answer. He took hold of my arms and released them from his body. I began to cry again. He shushed me and told me that it was all right. He kissed me gently on the lips and told me to wait for him; he would be right back. He left the room. A short time later I heard him on the phone. He told Tiffany that something had come up; she wouldn't be able to spend the weekend with us. There was some back and forth conversation that I couldn't make out but then I heard Dad say, "Look, it's not you. I'm just not ready for a long-term relationship with anyone right now. I think we need to stop seeing each other." When Dad reappeared at my door, I was sitting up waiting for him. He smiled. His head motioned me to his room. I jumped up and followed him, reaching him just before we crossed the threshold; I slipped my hand into his. He stopped and turned to face me. I could feel my already heated body sending heat rising to my cheeks. Dad's hand brushed my cheeks and hair. "You are so much like your mother," he sighed, "She would get embarrassed about her sexual desires too. You sure this is what you want?" "Yes," I said looking bashfully into his eyes, "For so long." He smiled. "This is going to be quite a Father's Day weekend." What I remember most about Dad and my first night and weekend together was how gentle he was and how ready I was. Dad kept asking if he was hurting me as he slipped deeper into me. I breathlessly begged him not to stop. We rocked in unison with one another. His hardness stretched and filled me, teasing me from within and increasing my pleasure without. Slowly and steadily his pace increased. I opened myself wide and rocked back on the instrument of my creation. I was burning with love, lust and passion. Dad grabbed my ass cheeks, spreading them wider as he sunk deeper into me. My cock jumped wildly at each stroke of my prostate. Pre-cum leaked from me freely. My head thrashed wildly on the bed. I squeezed my rectum around his incoming shaft, determined to feel every sensation that he could give. His mouth engulfed mine and he forced himself as deeply as he could into me. I held him there as his seed jetted into me, causing me to shake and tremble as my cum became a pool on my belly. Since then I have been Dad's constant companion. When I retire at night, it is to Dad's bed. If he retires before I do, he knows it won't be long before I slip nude by his side. I am completely open to my Dad whenever and wherever he desires. If I am washing the dishes and he wishes to take me from behind, it pleases me to satisfy him. In this way, he says that I am an even better wife to him than Mom was, and, on top of that, he says that I am better at satisfying him than any woman he has ever been with. I'm happy about that because I want this to last. I want to always be in my father's arms. ************************************************************************ To support stories written by Tom Cup, visit http://www.tomcup.com. ************************************************************************