Date: Fri, 8 Jul 2011 22:45:18 -0700 (PDT) From: Luke Hairyson Subject: My Dad's Hands--Ch.03 Standard disclaimers apply to this story. All rights reserved by the Author. All events that happen are completely consensual between people involved in the story. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now. The author retains all rights to this story. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the permission of the author. My Dad's Hands--Ch.03 I can hear the sound of my heart beating in my eardrums, the intense pressure of every pump pushing blood through the tense muscles in my neck. My dad just called me "his little fuckstud," and my heart has not only recovered from the emotional rollercoaster since he walked in on me, but has gone into overtime, pumping more blood into my hard 21 year-old cock than ever before. The head of my cock has gone obscenely rigid and nearly purple, throbbing with little beats against my abs in time to the beating in my ears. The precum that had dried on my shaft and treasure trail is slowly becoming slick again as I begin to leak anew, my fantasy finally coming true. I lay back on my bed, my right bicep flexing as I place my arm behind my head, the scent of my excitement blossoming as I expose my armpit to my father. I love the smell of masculinity and lust, and I give in to my urge and turn my face to my own pit, breathing in deeply and moaning quietly. My eyes flutter closed as I slip my tongue out from between my full lips and trace from the crook of my pec up the rolling hill of my bicep. If he wants to watch, I'm going to fucking give him a show. I come back from my own indulgence to meet my father's blue stare. I unfurl my legs, throwing one out over the side of my twin bed, the other I bend at the knee and open myself to him as much as I can. I look down my body, the silky skin of my abs is rising and falling quickly with my excited breathing. I take my left hand and begin to play in the golden hair that covers my pecs, rubbing my full hand across them. I pull up, using only fingertips as I spiral around my pert nipples, every touch sending electric waves through my body down to my throbbing cock and twitching asshole. "I always wanted you to come in...all those days I waited for you hard and dripping, I longed to feel your big hands caressing my body," I spoke huskily, almost moaning with my desire for my father's hands, his touch. "I wanted to feel your fingertips trailing like feathers over my hot skin," I said as I began to trace the line of my pec up to my shoulder, dipping my fingers into my armpit, feeling the hair moist with sexual tension. I bring them to my nose and my lips, smelling myself again. "I wanted to know that you loved my body, that you wanted me, that you were proud of the man I was becoming." My fingertips traced back across my chest to the heavier trail of hair that runs between my pecs and straight down the center line of my abs and into my pubic hair. I allowed my fingertips to tease down my trail and dip into the cup of my belly button. "I longed to feel the moist heat and indescribable texture of your tongue against me, dipping into my belly button, sliding against my neck, my earlobe, my pits, my cock" I paused as I smiled at my father before continuing, "my ass." I watched the blush rise from my father's chest into his face as I mouthed those last two words. He breathed out in a heavy, lusty sigh, and he took his hand off his bulge, and began mimicking my motions from seconds before. I watched as he rubbed his chest and dipped his fingers into his hairy pit, sniffed them and continued downward. He was copying me exactly. "You realize that you won't be able to copy me in a few seconds if you still have those cargo shorts on," I told him, as my hand moved further southward, bumping in to my hard cock and tangling in my pubic hair. He reached down to the button on his shorts and ever so slowly undid it. As he pulled on his zipper, every newly freed tooth of that zipper echoed as if each were a cymbal crashing in that small space. I think I even stopped breathing, realizing that my dad was going commando, his dark brown bush begining to appear through the dividing fabric. Dad knew how to play the game too. I smirked as he held one flap of fabric against his cock while pushing his shorts down, revealing every inch of his cock slowly. I watched as he continued to push his shorts down, at least six inches of thick manhood showing and no end in sight. My hand instinctively wrapped around my own seven inches as he revealed another two or so inches, finally allowing his thick, eight inch cock to bounce up against the barrel of muscle that is his torso. I sucked in air as I heard the heavy thump of his meat against his stomach and his shorts plummeted to the floor. "Better?" he asked, laughter barely contained in his voice. The knowledge of my father's desire for me released a sexual monster, and I nearly shouted, "Fuck, yes!" in eagerness, which did made him chuckle. "You like watching your hot, little fuckstud?" I asked teasingly, using his own words against him, as I held my cock at the root. Taking my right arm from behind my head, I dipped my finger in the precum slicking down my cockhead. I pulled back, showing dad the viscous trail of it connecting my fingertip and slit, until the string of precum came free from my cockhead and snapped upward. "Fuck yeah, Luke," my dad groaned. I brought my precum covered finger to my mouth and rubbed it on my lips before plunging it into my mouth, opening my lips to show dad the rippling action of my tongue against my finger, tasting my own precum. Silently I was wishing it was his cock my tongue was flexing against, my hands on his waist, his ass flexing into my fingertips as he barely held himself back from fucking into my throat and gagging me with his large fuckstick. Removing my spit-slick finger from my mouth, I went back to my teasing game, slowly caressing my inner thighs, running up against my balls and up the underside of my shaft. "I can't believe you never said anything. All of those times. Fuck, Dad! All of those times I was silently begging you!" I whined with lust that could have been released rather than pent-up for over seven years. "I could barely contain myself, believe me, Luke," he whispered, sounding apologetic. "If you only knew how many times I jerked off while you were doing homework, the sight of your tight young body burned into my mind," he growled, his hands playing up and down his torso, his left hand tweaking his nipple. "Your image was burned in my mind and my imagination ran wild, which made me feel guilty, but the forbidden nature of my desire and my guilt made my jerkoff sessions even hotter. I mean, fuck, Luke, you're my son!" My father's revelation made me want to jump of my bed and grab him, kissing and licking every millimeter that I could touch, made me long to bring him to a screaming orgasm just to know that I could fulfill every one of his fantasies. But, a part of me knew he was working through his own inhibitions as he told me his side of the story. So, I stayed where I was, lying on my bed exposed, full of lust, touching myself. "I know, Dad," I replied, as my hand began to slide up and down my cock. "And you're my father, and I've wanted you, wanted your body against mine, wanted to feel you touch me with something more than just fatherly affection for years." My father's cock was now bouncing up and down, several veins stood out like blue rivers of carnal rage against the white skin of his shaft. His bulbous mushroom head was red, and it tapered to a perfect, rounded point, perfect for penetration. "I couldn't ever cross that threshold, Luke...believe me, I wanted to, but you were young. And, I watched you grow and mature, noticing every change you went through," he began to stroke his cock as he continued talking, "I noticed when your biceps started to fill out and your pecs began to announce themselves against your tight soccer jerseys. I remember admiring the steel muscles of your calves and thighs flexing under the velvet of your skin as you ran down the field." His words became a story in which he lost himself, his eyes boring into me, my own cock even harder than before, every syllable stroking my ego and my lust like a purring, self-satisfied cat. "I wanted to scream and yell, `Fuck yeah! That's my boy!' as I sat on those sidelines. I came to love waking you up all those afternoons, and I reveled in the glory and beauty of your youth and your nakedness. I definitely thought, `Fuck yeah, that's my boy,' as I watched your cock dance to your heartbeat while you feigned sleep. But, you're a part of me, I made you and am responsible for you," he said quietly. "Don't get all responsible on me now, Dad," I laughed and began to rub down my legs and up my torso, tweaking my nipples and feeling my muscles, leaving my cock alone so I could cool down for a while, his words driving me quickly to a point I didn't want to reach yet. "Don't worry, buddy," Dad laughed in return. "It turns me on to no end because you remind me of myself, you're so much like me, I can see myself in you." "I can see you in me too," I said sluttily, emphasizing the pun in his innocent phrasing, hoping he'd catch my drift, my desires. "Luke..." he said admonishingly, definitely catching my drift, and then he laughed. "I watched as your chest hair started appearing and noticed how your chest jutted out a little bit farther than normal, as you strutted around so proud of your new development." "It's because I was looking more like you. Your body and your hair will always be the epitome of masculinity for me, Dad," I revealed. Dad was quiet for a while, taking in my compliment. His hands left his cock to roam his body, just like mine, probably needing to cool down just like me. "I definitely noticed that golden treasure trail begin to grow, descending from your navel. I remember you coming into the kitchen one day after a workout. I think you must've been a junior in high school. You grabbed a glass of water and drank the whole thing, your adam's apple flexing in your throat and your moist armpit opening further with every gulp, and your treasure trail was damp with sweat, dripping down into your athletic shorts." There was a string of precum slowly lengthening from the head of his cock, dangling in open space like a bungee cord. I involuntarily licked my lips and began salivating at the thought of finally tasting my father's precum, the sweet, clear fluid sliding down inside of me, becoming a part of me. He already was a part of me, our DNA so close, but there was something hot about knowing that if I ate that precum it would physically become part of my cells. He would literally become a part of me, and that level of intimacy was so close I could practically taste it, and that blew my mind. I could barely wait any longer for him to make the move and come to my bed. I wanted him inside of me, wanted him to be a part of me. I moaned in frustration, willing him to touch me. "I had to press myself against the counter to hide my instant bulge and stop looking at your body, I had to control myself from taking those two steps and burying my face in your sweaty pit, from licking down your body and tasting the efforts of your workout," his voice was thick with desire, and he must have understood the frustration in my moan, because he finally left the threshold of my door and took those steps toward me. "You don't have to control yourself anymore," I whispered, barely able to speak, years of fantasizing and jerking off about to become reality. His footsteps were silent and slow. It probably felt slow because I was bursting with the anticipation of his touch. "mmhmmm" he barely growled out. He was inches from me, the adrenaline pumping through my body making every detail of his body, every shifting muscle stand out in vivid detail. The scent of his musk hit my nose, a scent of old spice, fresh sweat, and erotic power. I breathed in deeply and held completely still as he extended his right hand toward my chest. His fingertips grazed my left nipple, my pectoral muscles contracting almost painfully hard, and I gasped. I looked up into his eyes, he smiled down at me, thrilled with the pleasure he just gave me. He raised one eyebrow, and his eyes developed a wicked sparkle as if to say, "Oh baby, it's only beginning." And, at that realization, I melted into his touch. His other hand came up and caressed my face, teasing my eyebrows, my cheekbones, the tip of my nose, and grazing across my bottom lip. I opened my mouth and licked the tip of his finger while he pushed his other hand firmly down my abs, feeling every ridge of muscle and every ripple of movement that he involuntarily pulled from my body as he touched all the right spots. I sucked his finger into my mouth as my cock stood straight up from my body, and his hand slid down, his fingers sliding into the thicker hair of my bush, and he curled his fingers in it, playing. He withdrew his finger from my mouth and placed that hand on my shoulder as he rubbed his left hand over my balls, into the crook where my thighs meet my body. I opened my legs further, moaning, as his hand dove down over my perineum, and he rubbed back against my balls and then lifted his hand to his face. I can't describe the feelings that arose when I realized that he was smelling the scent of my crotch on his fingers. I looked down and watched his cock throb in response, and I knew that he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him. I reached up to his hand and pulled it to my face, licking my scent off of his palm, tasting the salt of his own skin. I lightly kissed his wrist and his forearm, pulling him closer to me. He started to lean down toward me, bringing his lips inches from mine. Neither of us closed our eyes until we knew it was inevitable. I couldn't wait for him any longer and I lifted up off my pillow, closing the last few inches with speed and intense motivation. My mouth slammed against his, and I kissed him with the passion that had built and built for years. I was not gentle as I thrust my tongue into his mouth, tasting of him deeply, and I was thrilled to feel his strong hands enfold my head as he returned my desire ten-fold. His kisses ravenous, his tongue explored my mouth, our tongues rolling and sliding against each other, uninhibited. He gently bit my bottom lip, and I groaned, shaking with ecstasy. He pulled back looking into my eyes, and the only word he said was, "Luke," before diving back into me, kissing my lips, my cheekbones, my neck, my chin, up my jaw, and that's when I felt his warm breath on my ear, his lips teasing my earlobe lighter than a snowflake's fleeting caress. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled his body down next to mine. Finally, finally, I feel his hairy chest pressed against my side, his strong arms wrapping around me, his strong, muscled leg pressing against my own. His hard cock lays across my thigh, the heat and weight of it like nothing I ever expected. The head of his cock presses against my balls, leaving a trail of precum as he moves his body to kiss and caress my face and neck. He breaks away from kissing me even though I am reaching up, hesitant to let go, the taste of him like a new favorite dessert. He looks into my eyes as his left hand runs down my body, moving closer and closer to my aching cock. He doesn't tease me this time and wraps his big, rough hand around my shaft. He hefts it in his hand, as if sizing me up. "Like father, like son," he announces. "You're bigger than I am," I reply. "Well, I am your father," he laughs in return and begins to slide his hand up my shaft. When he reaches the glans underneath the head, my head jerks back against the pillow and I gasp as my abs contract. I've never felt this kind of pleasure before from my hand or any hand, and I tell him so. "I'm glad I can take you to new heights, buddy," he smiles. "I guess now isn't really an appropriate time to discuss your sexual partners," he half asks, half says. I laugh and then respond, "I've only ever fooled around with Chris from high school and one guy from college, but the farthest I've gone is oral. Nothing, nothing has ever made me feel like you're making me feel right now..." "Wait, Chris, the captain of the soccer team? That Chris?" Dad asks. "We were co-captains, Dad," I respond, slightly annoyed at being left out. Dad realizes this and strokes one of his finger over my cockhead again, evoking the same body-shaking response as before. "He's a hot little fucker too, but he can't even hold a match to my son," Dad whispered in my ear, his stubble like little cattle prods, sending my nerves into overdrive. He begins to move his hand up and down my shaft with a regular rhythm, spreading my precum up and down, and the silky lubrication and the roughness of his hand is like perfection. He gently kisses the side of my face as my head presses back into the pillow and his hand continues to glide up and down my manhood. "Fuck, Dad...oh, fuck," I groan as he picks up the pace. I realize he's doing all the work and try to reach for his cock, but he stops stroking me and pushes my arm away, pressing it back down against the mattress. "No," he says quietly but commandingly. His firm grip sends naughty shivers up my spine. I like it when he's aggressive, and my mind flashes to an image of him on top of me, pinning my arms above my head while he rails me with his cock. I snap back to the present when his hand resumes its sensual assault on my member. The image flashing in my head is not helping me to prolong this much longer. "Dad," I groan, trying to warn him of my impending climax. He knows what's going to happen, he can feel my balls pull up against the base of his hand, he sees the muscles contracting all over my body, he feels my fingers digging into his shoulder blade as my entire body tightens like an over-wound spring that has almost reached the breaking point when every atom will come flying apart. He leans in and sucks on my left nipple, his tongue swirling around it, but it is when his teeth gently tease the hard flesh of my nipple that I cry out and my load begins to fly from my cock. I hear the first shot hit the headboard behind me with an obscene splat, feel the second one graze the side of my face and begin to drip down my neck, and I open my eyes just in time to see the third volley of my cum hit my chest and part of my father's face, the white liquid standing out in relief against his dark, three-day stubble. The fourth, fifth, and sixth shots release, and I feel like I'm going to keep cuming forever. My abs are covered, my treasure trail is wet, and my dad's hand is glazed in my load. I begin to breath normally again until I feel my Dad's tongue lapping up the load from my chest. He licks his way up to my face, cleaning up my neck, and he even moves beyond my head to the shot that is clinging to my headboard. "Nice load, Luke," he whispers as his face hovers over mine, his breath heavy with the scent of my own cum. I reach up and kiss him with even more hunger and desire than before. The taste of him now mingled with the taste of my own load. He pulls back and leans further down my body, sucking up the load from my abs, licking at the hair of my trail, and holds my load on his tongue as he moves back up. I reach up and take his cum-coated tongue into my mouth, and then he removes his hand from my member, the cool air rushing in at the absence of his warmth, and he brings his hand to his face, lapping at it like he can't get enough. "Sorry, I shared enough. This is mine," he says laughing. Watching him eat my load, knowing that I'm inside of him fills me with such warmth, such sexual virility. "Fuck, Dad, you're hot," I growl as I run my fingers through the hair at the base of his neck and up over his scalp. "Don't say `fuck,' Luke. One shouldn't use such language." He says this in such a deadpan while still licking my load from his hand and forearm that we both stop for a second before I totally lose it and start cracking up. "I think we've moved beyond that, Dad," I laugh and pull him in for another kiss. After a few minutes of lazy kissing on my part, post-orgasmic haze having set in, I become aware of the heat emanating from my father's still hard and dripping cock that was throbbing steadily against my thigh. My father moans into my mouth as I nuzzle my thigh against his cock. I pull back and he does too. I don't say anything as I begin to run my right index finger through any of my remaining load, which isn't much because he obviously had no intentions of wasting my cum. I reach further and scoop up his precum that has puddled on the hot skin of my thigh. He watches me with interest, wondering what delights we're going to experience next. I press my thigh harder against him and press my other leg outward even further, I flex my stomach, rolling my pelvis upward. His eyes are glued to my hand and my slick finger as I move beyond my cock, past my balls, and my hand dips into the valley of my ass. My fingertips dig into his shoulder blade again as my finger slides into my tight rosebud, his own precum providing just enough lubrication for my finger to slip in without any pain. I moan, and his eyes lock on mine, and we stare at each other for a second while my finger continues to slide in and out of my tight hole. Without breaking eye-contact, I huskily whisper, "Dad, I need you to fuck me." Thanks for reading, studs. I welcome suggestions/comments, and have enjoyed receiving them thus far, so keep 'em coming! ~Luke ;-)