Date: Sat, 06 Sep 2003 23:08:43 -0400 From: Steve Griffin Subject: Me and my Deadbeat Dad This is a work of fiction. No basis on reality, none at all. Any fathers and sons out there, this isn't taken from your life. Make sure you're over 18 if you read this story. And be careful in real life, OK? This is either the first or only chapter, depending on your response. Tell me what you think. Please. ------ My father was absent for 20 of my 22 years. Amidst his occasional stream of checks and letters, he claimed the life of a career Navy man didn't include a wife and child. When he suddenly dropped into my life a few days after my 20th birthday, I wanted nothing to do with the prick. Less than nothing. My mother, dear sap that she is, begged me to change my mind, so I did. My father, in spite of being a hard-faced alcoholic who makes minimum wage and has to live in his mom's house until he "gets his land legs back", was not as willing to accept me. You see, I'm gay. Or as dear ol' dad would say, "a fudgepacking pervert." He told me that if I'd been in the service with him, I'dve been thrown overboard. He also threatened to beat up my boyfriend if "that fag" ever came near me again. I really don't care what my asshole father threatens to do to me. I'm 6'3", 210 pounds of rock-hard muscle. Tree trunk thighs. Huge hands and feet. I can toss a ball or throw a punch as good or better than any twatfucker you can find. But my boyfriend barely even had the courage to stare at his own shadow when I met him my junior year of college. He's more of a bookworm than a twink, but the doe eyes, pouty lips and short blonde hair make people think he's weak. I've helped him get in shape but he's still not going to win any prize titles. I know what Dad could do to Paul if he wanted to. And I swore to him that I would kill him with my bare hands if he even thought about it. Happy family, huh? Aside from some holidays and breaks (which is when the threats were exchanged), I hadn't gone home very often since Dad's return. But right after I graduated, Grandma died. Mom told me how devastated Dad was and how he'd started back on the bottle. I loathed the man, but I knew how I'd feel if my mother died. What if I had a son and he snubbed me? Paul encouraged me to put my doubts aside. His family hadn't ever really been close to him after he'd come out, and I knew how much he wanted to see me find the chance at acceptance which he hadn't had. Paul had a summer job lined up back in Chicago, so I went home alone. My father really was a drunken, pathetic mess. He burst into tears when I showed up at Mom's front door. I'd always figured he would be a psycho drunk, since he was such an asshole when sober. Instead, he sobbed about what a failure his life had been. He told stories about his childhood and all the beatings he'd endured from his father. I'd never had any idea. Even though he was as miserable as ever during sober hours, I worked on really connecting with him, instead of just judging and hating him. My icy facade began to thaw. I wanted to get to know him. Care about him. About a month after I moved in, Dad found a cheap bottle he'd stashed under the kitchen sink. He was about three-fourths of the way through when I got home. When I tried to pour the rest down the drain, he grabbed my arm. "Donddddooo 'at..." he slurred, blinking through unfocused but striking hazel eyes. "Fine." I pulled a glass from the cabinet, poured the remaining booze in the glass, and downed my shot. Dad snickered while I coughed and sputtered. This shit was so strong I could barely even remember my name. Much less stand up. "Wiiiiimp. Jus' like me." Dad smirked and grabbed me as I began to wobble. He tossed an arm around my broad torso. So gentle, almost loving, as we stumbled towards his bedroom. "Somuch like me, kid. Love ya. I love ya." He kissed my cheek, wet and sloppy. I glanced at the large mirror on top of the dresser. Aside from the salt-and-pepper state of his formerly black hair, and the wrinkles creasing his imposing face, we looked remarkably alike. He had a bit of a spare tire, but still carried the musculature of a man who knew how to stay strong. Our smiles were equally infectious, yet tense. We even had the same damn dimples. "I so, SO sorry 'bout how bad a father I am. Lemme show ya. I love you." Dad pushed me on the bed. I tried to protest, but his mouth was suddenly clamped against mine. His whiskey breath and thick whiskers were overpowering to my smooth-shaven face, yet I didn't pull away. A part of me wanted this, fuck the consequences. He sensed my acceptance as he tugged off his dirty undershirt, revealing his hairy daddy chest. My shirt was not as easy to remove, especially with two drunk slobs involved. I felt the air conditioned against my smooth chest as he ripped the fabric to pieces. That was the main difference between us, how furry he was and how sleek I was. We kissed and sucked each other's puffy, hardening nipples while fumbling with our belts. Glancing at our enormous, painful bulges, I knew he'd given me one good thing in the gene pool. Dad got free of his sweatpants first and his 9 hard inches smacked me hard on the face. I returned the favor when my jeans and boxer briefs finally left my legs, revealing my own hard 9 and a half inches. "Look who's got the bigger dick, Dad. Look who's the real man!" I taunted as I bruised his stubbled cheeks with my thick cherrybuster. "Fuckin' ingrate! Show ya what a real man is about. A father's gotta put a son in his place!" With surprising speed and agility, he tackled me. I struggled, but he had the upper hand. In spite of my kicks and screams, he had me on my belly, face kissing a pillow. I moaned as his tongue roughly parted my virgin cheeks. "What kinda fag are you? Guess Daddy can make you a man!" I whimpered at how good and how wrong his tongue felt rimming my hole. Paul and my hatred for my father were no longer viable in this slutty fantasy world. I wanted to get plowed by the man who had made me and then abandoned me. When his massive staff pressed against my hole, I expected a rape. But he was almost gentle in his slow entry, his soothing stroking of my bubble butt. "I know what it's like to get it too hard. Can't do that to my baby, can I?" The softness was interrupted by a few rough smacks against my cheeks. I pushed my prime rump against his flaring glans to tell him to go further. His pace was excruciating, but with multiple licks, kisses, and carresses, he eventually got all the way inside my virgin hole. His bull balls smacked against my ass as his thrusts increased in force. I moaned and slurred encouragement as best I could. My teeth had ripped the pillowcase apart. The sheet was drenched from the constant leaking of my iron-hard flesh pipe. "Love my boy...made my boy mine..." He was almost through. "YEAH...FUCK ME WITH THAT DEADBEAT DAD DICK..." His sobs and jabs were coincided now. His meat hook hands were firmly in place on my hips as he slammed his jackhammer deep in my prostate. "OHHHH GOOODDDD I HATE YOU DAD I LOVE YOU DADDY OH FUCK ME SHITFUCK...." Words were then beyond me as the most powerful and degrading orgasm of my life commenced. I didn't see stars, I saw fucking galaxies. The cream exploded from my dick as if it were gushing from every pore of my body. The sheets were covered in my juices as I felt Dad's load filling, filling, filling me up until his semen began trickling down the backs of my thighs. I was exhausted as well as ashamed when we were done. Dad seemed to have the same thoughts, as he began to separate us. I whimpered again as he nearly slipped his head out of my stretched anus. "No, Dad. Leave it in." Dad nodded and kissed the back of my neck. We couldn't quite look each other in the eye just yet, but I could tell he'd wanted this just as much as I did. I leaned over and pressed my lips against his, sharing the cum which had flown into my mouth and down my chin. I didn't want to think about what we'd just done, or what this would do to Paul. I just curled up in my father's for-once loving, tender arms, and drifted off to sleep. ------ My e-mail address is knack6@hotmail.com