Date: Sat, 11 Sep 2004 16:39:52 +0200 From: Xerxys Hunter Subject: May Father's Son Part Three My Father's Son - Camping Trip Part III DISCLAIMER: This is a complete work of fiction, involving sexual encounters between same-sex relations. If it is illegal for you to read such material, please leave. "Goodnight son," dad murmured groggily, then gently kissed the back of my neck as sleep finally overtook him. I clutched his hairy forearms that circled my chest, protecting me, feeling completely fulfilled as I drifted towards my own sleep, the warmth of my dad's naked, powerful body passing into my own, his long, deep breaths flowing over the nape of my neck. "Goodnight, dad," I whispered into the still evening air as I descended into peaceful sleep. Slowly waking, the dull light of early morning filling the tent, I found ourselves in exactly the same position we had fallen asleep in last night. On my side, with dad laid immediately behind me, his arms still wrapped around my torso, his body curling around my own slightly, spooning me, although now one hand was resting over my waist, his hand hanging limp against my mandatory early morning piss-wood. My head thumped slightly from a hangover, the large amount of bourbon that I'd drunk last night making its presence known even as it was being ushered from my system. Dad was still asleep and lightly snoring now, his nose making a slight whistling noise with each exhalation of warm breath onto my neck. With a contended yawn, I snuggled backwards into dad a little way, when I suddenly felt the hard, thick length of his cock wedged between my thighs, his swollen glans pressing into the root of my ballsac. I squeezed my thighs together around dad's own morning glory, and dad issued a light whimper in his sleep, his hips involuntarily humping forward a little. The feeling of such an immense rod of flesh pressed in between my legs was thrilling to me, and I simply spent a long while rhythmically tensing and then relaxing my thighs. This was prompting dad to begin humping my thighs in time to my flexing, his bloated head nudging forcefully against my balls while he continued to sleepily whimper and murmur in short bursts. "Mmm... Good morning Alex," dad mumbled groggily as he finally woke up, pressing his groin up against my butt, his coarse, dense pubes raking against my fuzzy globes, his fat member pushing past my nuts, which by now were pulled up tightly against the root of my own stiff morning glory. "Good morning, dad," I replied softly as his arms tightened around my body, hugging me closely to him, his hands trailing up and down my stomach and chest, until his hand connected with my hard six inches. I sighed gently as the open palm of his hand ran down the underside of my hardon, until he gently cupped my contracted nuts. "That's some morning glory you got their, son; just like your old man. Always hard as a rock first thing." We simply laid like that for a while, until dad loosened his protective grip around me and pulled back from me, until finally his dick's head slid back through my thighs and then grazed along the length of my fuzzy crack before audibly slaping up against dad's stomach. As I rolled onto my back, dad did as well, then reached and unzipped the sleeping bag, before kneeling, stretching as much as possible in the confined space of the tent. He pulled his arms back behind his head and arched his back, letting out a long yawn. I lazily gazed up at dad, who had his back to me still, my eyes trailing over his broad back that slowly knotted and contorted itself as he worked the last traces of sleep from his muscles. Returning his arms to his sides, he looked over his shoulder at me, groaning sleepily, smiling at me. "Well, better go see if I can take a piss and get this thing to go down." He grinned coyly as I heard his hand gently smacking his unseen hardon. "You'd better do the same, son. Then we can get on with the day. We came here to fish, hike and enjoy the great outdoors, not lay about in a tent for a week," he continued as he unzipped the entrance to the tent and made his way out into the morning. After a few mintes, I roused myself with a similar stretch and yawn before joining dad out in the clearing. The globes of his furry butt ground against each other as dad strolled down towards the stream. Despite his loss of definition over the last few years thanks to a loss of interest in regular workouts, but an increased interest in drinking and poker evenings with his buddies, his body still retained a marvellous form, his build still thickset and potent. My eyes couldn't seem to remove themselves from my dad's body; less than half a day ago he'd just been my dad, any regular dad, treating his son to a nostalgic camping trip to herald his return from college. As I joined dad, who had waded into the water up to his knees, I thought over how fast everything had changed. My own actions, fuelled by rampant hormones that had been pent up inside me since my sudden loss of sex at college, had alerted my father, despite my best efforts to repress and conceal feelings that I never knew I had. Dad, in return had... what had he done? A few glances at his crotch by his own son wasn't enough to turn him gay, but then I remembered how dad had been bragging how he'd fooled around with guys back in college. But it didn't compute in my head. Dad had fooled around with guys in college because he had such a high sex drive that he'd needed anything he could get, but then that had been more than twenty years ago. Why seduce his own son, which I was pretty sure dad had done last night with his bottle of bourbon and leading questions, when you'd been a heterosexual guy who'd been married for years? My train of thought was suddenly cut short as the sound of dad's piss splashing into the water began. I looked over to see dad aiming his now semi-soft dick straight ahead, a heavy flow of strong piss arcing far out into the water. As he drained himself, dad groaned long and low at the relief, which reminded me of my own full bladder. My little eisode of deep thought had meant that I was now less than half hard, and I gripped my thick, fleshy meat in my hand, pointing it over at the other shore just as I began to release a stream of piss, just as heavy and strong as my father's. The two of stood there in silence, waded up to the knees, taking our first piss of the day together. We both seemed to just go for an age, but even though dad had started before me, he was still going strong for a good few moments after I'd begun shaking the last few drops of my urine off the end of my now-soft dick, before washing the end with a little water. When he finally finished, dad did the same. "Well, there goes the bourbon I'd been planning on slowly working my way through this week. But what the hell, it was fun hey, Alex?" He looked over at me, and I gave him a puzzled look, which dulled his cheery smile immediately. "What's up, son?" "How much of last night had you planned, dad?" It was now my turn to catch dad off-guard with a blunt question, and in response he simply turned and began wading back to the shore. I followed him back up to the tent, his reaction piquing my own interest. He went over to the two towels which we'd laid out on the grass last night to dry, picked his own up and towelled off his wet lower legs and dick. As I proceeded to do the same with my own towel, I tried to initiate eye contact with dad, but he simply stared off at a point on the other side of the stream, until he finally finished drying himself, threw the towel back to the ground and fixed me with his eyes. "It wasn't like that, Alex. Sure, I'd known that you weren't going to be one for the women probably before you did. Your mom and me even talked about it one evening, about a year before her accident." I was shocked at this revelation, that seemed so unrelated to my question. "You both knew back then? What did you say?" Dad lowered himself to the grass to sit cross-legged, guessing that this was going to take some time, and I did the same, sitting beside him, angled towards him slightly but a little distance away. "We both said that whatever decision you made, it wouldn't affect anything in how we felt for you or how we would care for you. Then your mom died and you disappeared to college, and I was left alone to cope for three years. But that's not the point of what I'm trying to say, and it's coming out all wrong. "It's making it sound like I've been sat at home planning this for these past three years, and although in a very small way I have, it wasn't meant to... to go the way it did... Oh, fuck, this is coming out totally wrong. Look, I knew that you would have decided on your sexual direction in college in college, and wanted to give you some opportunity to maybe let me know if you were gay or bi, instead of it being a 'secret' between us, when I already knew. I was meant to be here for you to talk to, to let you know that I had no problems with it, maybe to even let you know that I'd shared some experiences with men before, too. You know, do my best at some father-son bonding, since I no longer have your mom's help with all the emotional stuff. But then, yesterday, all this weird stuff started happening. The looks you were giving me..." he trailed off, and I blushed, remembering how my first thought upon seeing dad half-naked the previous afternoon had been 'what a nice body.' "I had no idea what was going on either, dad," I stated, it now my turn to convince dad that I hadn't been planning this myself. "It was like something just switched on inside my head yesterday when I saw you get undressed, and no matter how much I wanted it not to be there, I had all of these thoughts, and I really tried not to." We both looked at the ground in awkward, embarrassed silence for a moment, until dad felt he'd worked out the best direction to take his explaination in. "Well, yesterday I was just trying to keep things on track. I just acted as normal, and although I was getting real mixed up over all those looks you were giving me, then going off into the hills where you..." he paused, picking his way carefully through his words, before tactfully resuming with, "...where you cut your knee open. I'd planned that we have a little alcohol the first evening, to maybe kick-start you into opening up to me and we could either have gotten it out into the open about your sexuality then, or at least made some groundwork on it. I wanted to stick to my original plan, but with all what had gone on through the afternoon circling around in my head, I let myself get distracted. Before I knew it, we'd drained the bottle, by which time I felt myself losing control." Dad was still staring at the ground as he spoke, but I kept silent, knowing that he was needing to get this out. "It was like I was watching myself, asking you all of those really phoney personal questions, setting you up, but I couldn't put the brakes on. I watched myself ply my own son with drink before seducing him. I... I guess I really blew it, son. I let my dick take over my head and I manipulated and abused you in the worst possible way." He then looked up at me, his eyes slightly redder than they had been, and filled with sadness. Although he had manipulated me, he hadn't abused me. The alcohol had lowered my inhibitions, but I never did, and still didn't as we sat there, feel any regret in the things we'd done that previous evening. I knew they were things that should never be done between a son and his own father, and I did feel a slight sense of shame that they had occured, but I only regretted that dad was now beating himself up about it. 'Is he regretting it?' I suddenly thought to myself. Neither of us knew how the other one was really feeling that morning, as we sat there naked together, our eye contect brief and self-conscious. It was all so complicated and there were so many things I wanted to say and know. "Dad, just after you'd fallen asleep last night, just after you'd said you loved me, I said it back. I didn't just mean that I loved you like any other son loves his father, I... I meant that I had... extra feelings for you, that hadn't been there before yesterday. I still have those feelings for you this morning, dad. I know you meant the same thing when you told me you loved me last night. Do you still have those feelings, too?" Dad's eyes had reddened even more so as I spoke, and a fat tear trickled down his cheek; something that didn't happen often to dad. "Yes, Alex. I still have those feelings, too." I literally felt my heart leap as dad replied. I reached out, and placed my hand around his own, and he squeezed it gently as he gave me a weak smile. He looked so vulnerable and lost in that moment, yet I had never had such a clear mind, even with my hangover. I then scooted up close beside dad, and wrapped my arms around him, my head laying on his strong shoulder, my face turned towards his neck. He immediately leaned into my embrace, his own arms encircling me once more, and we silently held each other for the longest time, neither of us moving. I then placed a soft kiss on the base of dad's neck, just where it began to flare out to his shoulder, and felt dad's face, with his rough oatee, turn into my own neck as he did the same to me. His hands then began to slowly stroke up and down my back a little as he planted another kiss, then another, followed by more. I started to do the same, and our hands rubbed in ever larger movements, whilst our kisses became stronger and more frequent, until dad then lifted his head from my shoulder. I raised my own face to his and then, after staring intently into each other's beep brown eyes for a long moment, our lips gently connected, but within seconds, we had given ourselves over to frenzied, lustful kissing, our tongues writhing furiously against each other, our hands roaming wildly over each other's back, pulling us closer into the embrace. "Dad," I said, pulling away from his passionate kissing, "There's nothing I did last night with you that I regret, and would do exactly the same right now." Dad smiled softly at me, then planted a quick, gentle kiss on my lips. "I know. I don't regret it either, son." With that, he lowered me gently onto my back on the grass, before suddenly moving down between my legs and engulfing my hardened head within his mouth. I closed my eyes as dad began to dilligently suck on the fat head that was now beginning to leak precum onto his tongue, one hand wrapping around my solid shaft and gently jacking it as he concentrated on sucking and lapping at my glans with his tongue. It felt wonderful, and I lifted my head to see dad's lowered over the head of my dick, my shaft encircled by one pumping hand, whilst his other furiously stroked the engorged length. His cheeks hollowed to form a vacuum around my head, before relaxing once more in a steady, rapid rhythm, which was feeling amazing. I dropped my head back onto the grass, moaning as dad's attentions on my cock sped up a little. He was sucking with almost painful pressure, and I could feel myself building to orgasm quickly. "I... I can't hold out dad... gotta... ungh... gonna cum soon." As I managed to warn dad of my impending climax, I heard the rhythm with which he was pumping his dick increase as dad attempted to catch up with me, although he didn't lessen the powerful suction he was applying to my head. Within just another couple of moments, my body spasmed and jerked as I began filling dad's sucking mouth. As the first blast jetted against the back of his throat, dad groaned with his lustful appreciation before swallowing it down. My back arched as he sucked my morning load from me, feeding on the ropes of gummy slime that he had so badly wanted. Then, just as my fourth load was coursing up through my fat, thrumming shaft, dad pulled his mouth violently off from my head as his own orgasm began to take him over. My fourth load flew wildly through the air as my dick slapped up against my chest, then suddenly dad was clambering onto me, straddling my groin. His asscrack closed along the fat length of my spewing dick, and he slid his ass up and down my shaft as my cum continued to jettison from my pulsing dick, splattering his crack and tightly retracted bullnuts with my warm, sticky goo. As he felt his crack filling with my seed, he threw his head back and a strangled groan intensified into a bellowing cry, his hand furiously stroking along the incredible length of his shaft, as his orgasm finally peaked. A long rope of cum shot forth from his swollen thirteen inches, splashing onto the side of my face and shoulder in a long streak. I watched, my own orgasm subsiding, as heavy torrents of cum blasted from his dick and streaked my face and chest. After five or six shots, dad's orgasm also began to ebb away, and as he continued to gently grind his ass along my softening dick, sliding easily thanks to the thick coating of my cum smeared into his hairy crack, milked his dick, which oozed the last of his load onto my stomach in fat gobs. "Wow, I needed that Alex. I thought I wasn't going to be able to cum again till at least this evening after shoting the amount I did last night, but I woke up hornier than ever this morning. I wanted to suck you again, but just me on you this time, to give you all that pleasure. Oh, son, when I woke up and found myself hard between your legs this morning, I almost couldn't stop myself from..." Dad's post-climax gushing faltered as he realised he was letting his mouth run away with him, but I laughed gently as I began running my hands over my hairy chest, working my dad's fresh cum into my skin. "I almost asked you to, dad. You were sliding it in and out between my legs and it felt so good that I wanted to tell you that I wanted it inside me... Inside my ass." At my words, dad laid himself down on top of me, rubbing his furry torso against mine, sliding around in his cum. "But I want it to be really special, dad. I do want you to make love to me, but you'll only be the second person to ever do it, and I want us to do it properly. This morning, as horny as I was, I knew that it wouldn't feel like I wanted it to." "Don't worry, son, I know what you're trying to say. It's a big step, what we want to do, and I want to make sure that everything's just right as well." He kissed me once, his fat tongue briefly sliding against my own, then hauled himself off from on top of me and stood up, his dick now around nine inches and sticking out horizontally before him. "But right now, son, we need to think about breakfast, then actually enjoying the great outdoors. We've got fishing to do today," he announced, reconfirming his promise made to me yesterday about deferring our first-day fishing trip until the second day. I quickly sprang to my feet, suddenly realising how hungry I was, after not having eaten enything since last night's dinner, and excited at going fishing with dad; something I'd always loved doing as a child and hadn't done with him for a long time. We strolled on down to the water to clean ourselves up once more, discussing what to have for breakfast. After ourbrief, cold wash, we pulled on a pair of shorts each as I set about preparing the food, whilst dad sorted out the tent and campsite, properly putting things away and clearing up from last night's meal and subsequent activities. We ate our breakfast of pancakes made from dry mix, and finished off the one pack of ready-made waffles that was meant to last us the week, at a leasurely pace, chatting and restoring our energy, which had been severely depleted since last night. "We'd better take it a little easier for the rest of the week, Alex," Dad proclaimed over his last waffle. "If we carry on like this, we'll be out of food in no time, and we'll have to cut the trip short, which I don't want to do." I had been thinking the same thing too, knowing that if we ended up having long, heavy sex sessions every evening we'd not make it to the fourth day on our rations, which dad had carefully worked out should have easily lasted us the week. I definitely didn't want to cut the camping trip short either, as I was enjoying being out in the open immensely after being on a crowded, cramped college campus for so long. "But, we will... I mean, you will..." I still felt awkward talking to dad about our sex when we weren't in the heat of passion, but I was a little worried dad was going to call time on all lengthy sessions, which I knew our first time making love together would be. "I will, Alex. We'll make love and we'll take as long as we need. Nothing would stop me from doing that." I smiled warmly at him as he finished the last few bits of his waffle, knowing that when it did happen, it was going to be spectacular. After eating and cleaning up the breakfast things, we were energised once more, and had soon sorted out our stuff to take fishing with us. Dad had fished all his life, so he was able to strip down what we had brought along to just the bare essentials that would allow us to catch our dinners. Pulling on sleeveless tops, we gathered up our fishing gear, a light lunch and a map and compass, and headed off downstream, where the water flowed into a lake. At times, we needed to leave the sight of the stream in order to pick our way through the ground cover. Dad and I continued to chat like old friends, as though our sexual activities had never occured, except that I would often begin staring at his powerful body, watching it flex and move beneath the tight blue vest top he'd put on. Dad would often catch my gaze, and smile fondly at me, sometimes squeezing my shoulder gently as we continued working our way towards the lake. After around forty-five minutes, we finally came to the lake, the stream emptying itself into its clear depths just to our right. Old pines and dense bushes crowded up to the water's edge, but after strolling a little further away from the stream's entry point, found where a landslide from the foot of the mountain some time ago had cleared a narrow strip of the shore, small rocks and silt extending like a tongue into the water. We set down our things and started getting ready to fish. The morning flew by as dad and I fished, sometimes talking a little, but mostly we just sat and enjoyed the peace and tranquility. I often remembered back to how I had done the same with dad years before, but how I'd always become so restless and even a little bored after just two or so hours. Dad would do his best to keep me entertained by telling me stories and such, but I would often end up exploring a little way into the forest, always making sure that I never lost sight of the lake as dad continued fishing for our dinner, before returning after a short while and napping by his side. Now I was older, I finally understood how he was able to just sit there so peacefully for so long without the need to fidget or explore or do anything besides look out over the water. Such peaceful surroundings acted like axle grease for your brain, your thoughts able to run easily, and you found yourself lost in them. As I slowly thought my way from subject to subject, thoughts about dad kept on appearing. About how he'd always been so comfortable walking around the house in his underwear first thing in the morning as I would sit at the kitchen table and eat my breakfast before school; how he'd cried almost as hard when it had been time for me to leave to go to college as he had at mom's funeral; how he'd supported me all through college, using the money from mom's life insurance policy to make sure I had everything I needed, even though I'd worked it out and figured he must have spent thousands of dollars more on me whilst I'd been in college than mom's meagre life insurance payout had been. He'd always been a superb father, but only since mom's death had we developed any kind of deep emotional bond. Mom had always done the whole usual mom bit to perfection, while dad did his paternal duties, but since puberty had begun, we'd never really connected on an emotional level. We always had fun together, but I wasn't able to talk to him like I had done with mom. All that had changed with mom's death, though. I encouraged dad to talk about it with me, knowing it would help the both of us, and we were soon bonding even stronger than we had been. As the healing process began, we talked less about mom and more about just everyday stuff. But just as he began to really connect with me, his only child, I'd gone to college. I'd told him I could defer a year, but he'd insisted, saying that my future was more important than an over-the-hill forty year old who'd never even applied to go to college. When I'd returned, dad had seemed different. I'd expected it, knowing that with three year's between him and mom's death, he was going to have healed and adapted. But he just seemed so much more comfortable within his own skin, as if what he had been when mom was alive was not quite what he was meant to be. But he had loved mom dearly, and if he had changed for her, he'd done it willingly and without a second thought. Then my brain connected the dots. He'd played around with guys in college; he'd married to mom and settled down into a marraige that - whatever arrangement he'd mentioned aside - had been loving and committed; he'd seemed so much more contented now. Dad's latent bisexuality that had been put to one side upon his marraige had been reawakened, or at least explored in more depth than when he'd been in college or with mom, as I assumed their arrangement involved him being able to indulge his taste for men when his demands became too much. Who had he been having sex with? Was he in another relationship with another man now? My mind filled with images of a man, similar to my dad, sucking on dad's monster pole like he had done to mine this morning. Then he'd bring dad to his feet, before bending him over and roughly drilling dad's furry ass with his dick while dad jacked himself off, the two masculine mean fucking brutally. My mind qickly built images and slideshows of my dad with various different men, myself included, doing all kinds of things. "Hey, Alex, you got a bite, son. Quit daydreaming." Dad's voice snapped me back from reality, and I could now feel the gentle tug of the rod in my hand. Standing up to start bringing in dinner, my dick, which was of course now solid as rock, tented my shorts before me, but my hands were too busy making sure the fish didn't slip the hook that I couldn't reposition myself. "I've got one guess what you were daydreaming about, too," dad chuckled to himself, gently stroking the back of my leg as I began reeling in the fish. My concentration on landing dinner meant that within no time, the tenting in my shorts had disappeared, but I still felt dad's strong hand against my skin as he gently rubbed up and down my hairy calf muscle. The fish was a good one, obviously coming close to shore to feed on any insect larvae that was to be found near the edges, but instead taking a one-way trip to my plate. Dad gave my calf a gentle squeeze as I presented the large silver fish to him to place in the holding net, and we continued to fish, my arousal acknowledged, but not discussed, knowing that talking about sex with dad, who's sex drive was equal - if not larger - than my own, would soon lead to actually having sex, and we'd already decided to try and control ourselves. By one o'clock, one fish had become three, but my first catch had been the largest by far. We ate our light lunch as we chatted about how was best to cook them, before returning to our rods for another couple of hours, which yielded another two fish to add to our meal, then decided to head back for camp. We used the compass jut the once to ensure we didn't lose the stream when we were forced away from it's path, but we were soon back in 'our' clearing. Dad set up the holding net in the stream to keep the fish fresh before we had dinner, and I relaxed in the sun for a while, pulling off my top and laying on the grass in front of our tent, feeling the warmth soaking into my skin. Dad joined me presently, and after stripping his muscle vest, laid down on his front beside me to sun his back. As we talked some more about everything and nothing, I took hold of dad's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Dad, when did you start sleeping with guys again?" I suddenly asked. Dad raised his head from the grass to give me a bemused look at the question. "Well, I figured that when you were with mom, you must have had some encounters with guys, because you said you and mom had an arrangement. But when did you start sleeping with guys properly again?" "About one and a half years ago," he replied after a light pause. "Your mom and I used to... well... with a third... God, I can tell you I've been sleeping with guys for almost two years, but I can't say the word threesome." "You just did, dad," I replied teasingly, letting him know it was ok. "So, is it something you do more often than with women now?" "Pretty much. But I'm still bisexual. It's just that sex with guys is... well, easier. Women just seem to want so much more emotionally than what I'm prepared to give right now, whereas another guy knows the score. Plus, it still doesn't feel right... you know." "So what's the score with us then, dad?" I asked, wondering whether this was just some convenient relief for dad. His eyes widened as he realised what he'd said, and he flipped over and sat up, facing me. "Oh, shit, Alex. That was so fucking dumb of me. It's not like that now, with you. You're my son and I love you, even more now than I think I ever had. This isn't just some quick fumble to get my rocks off with you. Oh please, don't think that." "I'm glad. I mean, I'd understand if this was just something you wanted to do for now, but I'm glad it's not." Dad leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips, before he settled back down onto the grass on his back, lazing in the sunshine, before we started to gently nap. I woke up to the sound of dad's snoring, loud and boarish now that he was laid on his back, insted of his side like last night. My watch told me that I'd been asleep for just over an hour, which had been enough for me to develop a post-sleep erection. Knowing that any urges dad and I this evening would have to be curbed, I decided to try and relieve some of my tension there and then. I shoved my shorts down until I'd hooked the waistband beneath my balls, and grabbed hold of my hard, fat six inches. I propped myself up onto one elbow and began slowly massaging the head as I looked over at dad's dozing form. His hairy chest heaved as he drew in a lungful of air, before relaxing again as he noisily exhaled. His slight beergut, with its wide trail of hair that plunged downwards into the waistband of his shorts rose and fell in a steady rhythm that my hand stroking up and down my shaft matched, until I felt the need to speed it up a little. As I continued to take in dad's marvellous body, my hand quickened its pace, and small moans escaped my lips as my precum began to ooze over the head. rubbing it in a little, my hand slid more easily along my shaft now, which meant my moans came more frequently, until dad stirred. His hand moved and he idly scratched his groin in his sleep, pressing the fabric tight against his soft dick and balls, revealing their shape beneath the fabric for a moment. A louder moan escaped me, and this was enough to rouse dad from his light slumber, but I continued my stroking as dad awoke. He laid there for several long moments, watching me steadily jerking my dick, before his hand then slipped beneath the waistband of his shorts, where he began to fondle himself. I moaned again at the sight of dad's hand bulging out the front of his shorts as he laid stretched out, playing with himself. After a short while, dad then removed his hand, and the head of his cock, which was steadily growing, laid against his belly. He lifted his butt from off the grass slightly as his hands pushed down his shorts to his thighs, revealing his huge meat. Supporting himself with one elbow as I was doing, dad then joined me in my afternoon wank. Soon, his hand was sliding over his fully-stiff thirteen inches in long slow strokes. I slowed my own pace to match him, and we silently sat there, staring into each other's faces as we jerked our tools, our eyes flicking down to the other's cock for a moment, which would increase our stroking slightly. Dad was making small grunting noises as his dick slicked itself up with precum, his hand moving easier over the hard, vascular shaft. My own moans were coming thick and fast now, and my balls were starting to pull up against the base of my dick as my eyes drank in the sight of dad's massive dick, his hand flying over the skin that glistened with his pre-juices. As my orgasm began bubbling up from inside my churning balls, I fixed dad's stare with my own, and as I began to shoot my cum all over myself, I stared intently at dad's face, my own contorted with pleasure. The sight of his own son coming to climax beside him, staring into his eyes as he did so, must have been too much for dad. Just after my cock had finished dumping wads of jizz onto my chest and stomach, dad's grunts became louder and longer, before he too started spewing his cream all over himself, our eyes still locked onto the other's, not wavering for a moment as volley after volley landed all over his torso, matting his thick, dark hair to his skin, until he finally finished. We both collapsed backwards onto the grass again, revelling in the afterglow for a little while, before heading back down to the stream to wash off yet another coating of cum from our bodies. Over the next two days, our camping trip retunred to something nearer how I'd remembered them; we would go fishing and hiking, or spend a couple of hours in our clearing talking, with just two discernable differences. Now, we spoke on equal terms. Our talk was that of two friends that had known each other for a long time, without the barriers of age and paternity that had separated us on all our previous vacations to this place. The other difference was our sexual interactions. Our agreement that we spend more time on camping and less on having sex was being upheld, but was punctuated by frequent bursts of outlets of our sexual frustrations at having to cope with this arrangement. It was now almost customary that whenever we found a lull in our 'normal' activites, when the air began to crackle with the erotic tension that was growing steadily stronger between us, we would stand or sit side by side and watch each other pump our dicks to orgasm. At least twice a day we would have these breaks from our normal father-son relationship to indulge our needs that seemed to grow simply from our close, isolated proximity. At night, we would slide into the same sleeping bag, falling asleep entwined within intimate embraces as our dicks throbbed and ached for that final, glorious union that we were fighting so hard to delay. The next day, we set about our business in the usual fashion. I would fix breakfast while dad would ready our packs for the excursion that lay ahead of us, but from the moment we woke, still wrapped around each other with our dicks still as hard as they had been when we had drifted off to sleep the previous evening, the atmosphere was thick with the unspoken knowing that it could be put off no longer. Today, after two days of keeping our most basic urges under the tightest of controls that we could manage, would be the day. Our bodies had not been sated by the temporary respite that maturbation had offered them. The knowledge that our trip would not be able to run its full course if we indulged our needs to their full extent was now forgotten. We couldn't wait any longer. Before we fell into sleep once more that evening, we were going to have taken our relationship light years beyond most other father-son relationships. Our hike southwards past the lake was conspicuous by its absence of sexual interaction. There was no resting in a small glade, where we would lay and stroke our cocks to spurting climax. We simply walked through the forest, talking sparodically, knowing that any flippant release would detract from what was to come. We spoke in brief fits and bursts, occasionally managing to wrench our minds away from our lusts long enough to develop a decent flow of conversation, before slipping back into tense silence. Dad was checking his watch with noticable frequency, as if willing the time to ebb from the day, until we were back at our clearing. My mind seemed to be stuck in a loop, replaying the frantic sexual activity that had occurred on that first night; how in a matter of hours we had gone from being simply father and son and had become one writhing knot of sexual need. By the time we had returned to the lake to spend the next couple of hours catching our dinner, my shorts were sporting a large, darkened circle of fabric where my stubbornly-stiff dick had leaked a slow and steady flow of precum onto them. It had not gone unnoticed that dad's shorts bore a similar dark circle. By the time we were eating our fish dinner, with sunset little under an hour away, conversation had dried up almost completely. Our minds were filled with the most depraved thoughts, and I ate slowly, as it felt like my chest was containing large winged insects that beat against my ribcage. Dad had finished his meal within minutes, but was content to simply sit and watch his son eat for a while, before suddenly rising to his feet and taking the dirty pan and his dinner things down to the stream to wash, as if unable to sit still for another moment. I watched him walking down to the stream, my eyes taking in the sight of his large, tight buttocks grinding against one another as he strode purposefully towards the water. Without even realising I'd done so, I was on my feet, following him. By the time I'd reached the stream, dad had waded in up to his waist. He was stood there, the saucepan in one hand and his plate in the other, simply staring over at the opposite bank. The insects within my ribcage that beat so violently inside me had now solidified into a steely ball of resolution, knowing that the building anticipation was soon to be ended. I strode calmly into the water behind my father, who stood reolutely still, his hands clutching dirty pans and dishes to either side but making no attempt to wash them. His upper body, still above the water, shivered slightly as he heard me entering the water, but as I enircled his thick, solid torso with my arms, it shuddered violently, before leaning back against me. We stood in silence for the longest time, his body supported by my own as the lazy flow of water ran through and past our legs. Sunset was approaching. "Are you sure, Alex?" Dad's voice was small and slighly cracked, but these simple four words thrummed in the still air with intense need. Unable to voice just how much what was to happen had overtaken my mind and body, I simply lowered one had to my father's groin, gripping tightly around his fabric-wrapped length, whilst the other clamped onto a nipple, my fingers gripping steadily firmer until dad began to buckle forward slightly. The next few minutes happened in a blur as pent-up yearning and need was finally vented. We virtually sprinted back up to the camp site, sprays of water leaping from our path as we exited the stream. Dad threw himself to the ground, pulling me down on top of him, our bodies colliding, our mouths mashing hard against each other, our tongues writhing furiously within our passionate kiss. Hands groped and fumbled their way across tense bodies as the strove to remove every last stitch of clothing, our kissing broken only when our tops were wrenched violently away from our bodies. Soddden shorts were shucked down our intermingling legs, our mutual lack of underwear indicating our knowledge of this event as far back as this morning. As I finally kicked my way free of my shorts, dad rolled over on top of me, our mouths never breaking contact, and we simply indugled ourselves in each others mouths as our hands were given free reign to explore torso, ass and thigh once more. Dad's weight upon me was almost crushing, but in the most exhilirating way. The force of my own father's heavy, hairy body pressing down upon me as we writhed against each other just heightened how real and alive every sensation was. With every small movement our bodies made against each other, I felt dad's thick mat of hair bristle against my skin, to which I arched my back slightly, pressing myself even harder against him. At that moment, just the feeling of him bearing down upon me, gravity pulling his muscular body against my own was enough. Even though two solid rods of flesh were wrestling each other between our stomachs, it didn't matter; he was mine, completely. But soon, my mind, which had been simply a blank void since leaving the cold stream, was invaded by the ruthless demands of my groin. I swung our knot of tangled bodies to one side, rolling dad onto his back once more. By now, our kissing was punctuated by long, panting breaths as the thundering momentum of our initial lust began to wane. Our hips now began to grind against one another as our pace slowed, until I heaved myself up to a sitting position upon my father's crotch, feeling his hard, fat pole pressing allong the crack of my ass and extending out from beneath me. "Fuck me, dad," I panted, fixing his eyes with my own. Even though there had been no doubt in either of our minds what was going to happen, dad's face washed with a look of intense longing and relief, nad he gave an audible groan. "Oh, son. Alex. My boy." He pulled my head down against his, and we kissed once more, but even as our tongues clashed and our lips mashed hard against each others, I felt a change in him; a dominance that was quickly overtaking him that I somehow knew he could not stop, even if he'd wanted to. Suddenly, his huge, strong hands wrenched my face from his, and held it mere inches from his own as he stared into my eyes. His gaze was steely and resolute, not his own. "On your hands and knees." It was said so forcefully and with such determination that I was scrambling from on top of him within seconds of the words being spoken. As I did so, dad sprang to his feet and strode to the tent, disappearing inside. I flipped myself onto all-fours, but the winced sharply as I put too much pressure on my right knee, which I'd injured just a few short days before. As I repoitioned myself to take most of my weight from my bad knee, dad almost flew from the tent, carrying a small bottle of clear liquid that was instantly recognisable as lube. He walked around behind me, and I heard him drop to his knees. The click of the bottle's lid being flipped open reached my ears, then shortly afterwards I felt cool wetness being rubbed into my ass-crack. Dad's thick, rough fingers worked the thick coating of lube first along the crevice between my butt-cheeks, before slowly centring in on my puckered bud. I shuddered as his fingertip stopped dead-centre upon my ring, but soon felt it being prised open as his dug his finger in a little way inside me. My sphincter squeezed tightly around the first joint in dad's finger, and as it did so, he wiggled the very tip softly inside me. Even though dad's actions were gentle and loving, I could tell by the other hand that was placed squarely on the small of my back to hold me steady, and by dad's soft yet firm grunts of satisfaction that his new, firner tone - similar to how he had been when he had first ordered me to please him on that fateful first night - was still with him. Dad slowly buried his finger up to the knuckle in my ass as light moans escaped my lips. I turned my head back over my shoulder to look at my father, and found his face transfixed by the view of his thick digit sunk all the way into his boy's tight yet eager hole. His mouth was slightly open as his breath rasped slightly in his throat, and his eyes squinted slightly, concentration etched on his face by thin lines that creased outwards from their corners. He rotatated and curved his index finger within me, snapping my head back to the front as I whimpered in surprised pleasure, to which dad gave a satisfied grunt. He was deliberately taking his time, but I was not sure I could wait much longer for the thing that I'd been wanting so badly for the past two days. As if reading my mind, dad's finger began retreating from inside me. With one last twitch of his finger, it left me. I heard dad rise to his feet, and he walked around in front of me, his enormous, engorged dick swaying and throbbing, then laid down a little way from the flickering camp fire, the bottle of lube still clutched in his hand. With his upper body supported on his elbows, he looked over at me, still on my hands and knees (although by now a dull ache was expanding outwards from my right kneecap where I had cut it open). "Come over here and sit on your father's dick. I want to see my meat disappearing into my boy's tight ass. Want to feel this monster digging its way deeper and deeper inside my son, till you're impaled to the root on the very dick that made you, Alex." His jaw was set and his mouth firm and serious, framed by that meticulously trimmed goatee, but his eyes were alive with lust, boring into my own as he spoke dirty to his son. I scrambled to my feet, and squatted down between my father's thighs as he unflipped the lid from the lube once more and drizzled a thin strand of the liquid along the length of his shaft. As I squeezed and fondled dad's swollen, hairy bullnuts, I watched his free hand gently work the glistening strand of lube into a sheer coating over the entire, colossal length of his pole. When he was content with the meagre lubrication he'd afforded himself, he heaved his cock up until it pointed straight up at the reddening sky, the last light playing over the fine, slick coating on the stiff, veiny shaft. Although a small voice in the back of my head was pointing out that I'd hardly been loosened up at all, as well as letting me know that there was as good as no lube on dad's fat dick, I ignored what it was saying. Like dad, I wanted to feel every last sensation that a thick layer of grease and a loose ring just couldn't allow. It would have to be taken slow, but it was going to be worth it. I'd been waiting too long for it just to be some quick fuck. Raising up on my haunches a little, I moved forward over my dad's groin, shuddering as the head rubbed against my full balls, smearing a streak of prejuices along their underside. I looked hungrily into dad's eyes, which were filled with the same hunger, but also tinged with anxiety, as though still not sure just how much I wanted this. "I don't care how long it takes, dad, but I want this huge dick of yours to be the one to really open me up." Dad's rumble of relief and lust made my cock lurch as once more, the sheer maleness that this man was struck me solidly. "That's my boy, Alex. There's nothing I like better myself than a nice, fat dick splitting my hole wide open. You really do take after me in so many ways." With one hand, he rubbed my tensed thigh, while his other held his thirteen glorious inches bolt upright, targeting my quivering sphincter. Slowly, very slowly, I began to lower myself onto my dad's stiff pole. As my bud connected with the blunt tip of dad's glans, I shivered with anticipation. Then, relaxing myself as much as possible and pushing out with my ass muscles, I sank downwards a little way with a short, slow stroke. It was incredible. The fine coating of lube on my father's fat head gave it just enough lubrication to slide through my relaxed ring without pulling, but I was able to feel every sensation as I was slowly opened wider and wider by the flaring head. I hungrily continued my descent upon his throbbing prong, and just as my ring became almost stretched painfully to its limit, his head was finally completely inside me. My sphincter closed tight around the end of my dad's shaft, locking his head within my warm passage. "Aww, fuck dad. That feels incredible," I moaned as I got used to the feeling of such a huge intrusion inside me. Max, my college roommate, had been a good fuck, and the only other person to ever fully fuck me, but having my dad's much larger goliath of a cock begin its invasion of me was a completely new and wonderful experience. "Oh, you're telling me, son. You've got the tightest ass I've had in the longest time. You're almost pulling your old man's fat mushroom head off my pole with that tight ring of yours. Now, play with your dad's tits as you take the rest of my bull-dick. Come on. Your dad loves his fuck-buddies squeezing his tits while he's fucking and getting fucked, and you're the best fuck-buddy of all. Shit, I can't get over your ass, boy. Come on, work all the way down your old man's greased up giant, right to the fucking hilt." I adjusted my position so that I was no longer squatting upon my feet, but being careful not to put too much pressure on where I'd hit my right knee-cap, actually knelt astride my father, with his huge head jammed into my tight, hot hole. As I reached down and began pinching dad's nipples between my fingers, I lowered myself further down his dick, panting and groaning as inch after glorious fat inch disappeared inside me, pausing every so often to allow my body to accommodate the huge intrusion. Dad was also moaning, and telling me what a great ass I had, and how he felt like shooting his load right there, even though around eight inches of his thick rod were still not inside me. Slick sweat covered us both, showing the strain both of us were under to control our ascents to climax. "Don't even think about it, dad. I want to ride this cock, and have you ride me, until I'm too sore to walk. Then I want your load inside me." To emphasise my point, I squeezed dad's tits as hard as I could between my fingers for a second, even digging my nails a little way into the fleshy nibs, intending for him to recoil in pain. Instead, dad threw his head back and arched his back violently as he almost rocketed towards orgasm right there. His drummed his arms against the firm earth, gasping for breath as he fought to control himself. Suddenly, his right hand clipped against the side of my left knee, the one that I had cut open the day before. I'd been careful not to put too much pressure on it as I began sinking down onto dad's cock, but the sudden jolt of pain caused me to involuntarily kick my leg away from his hand, which meant out from beneath me. Almost instantly, I fell straight downwards, completely impaling myself upon the entire thirteen inches of my father's tool, those remaining eight inches that I had not yet engulfed sliding into me in a second. The base was even wider than the huge flange of my father's glans, but my ring simply opened up in my distracted state, sliding me all the way down to his hairy root. I cried out in what I expected to be the sheer torturous agony of his dick tearing me apart, but it was in fact a howl of pure ecstasy as I now rushed unstoppably towards involuntary climax. I punched a great slug of cum clean over my father's chest and head, landing with a wet slap onto the grass about two metres away as I continued to bay loudly. As my second volley plastered dad's face, he began to scream through gritted teeth, the two of us crying out as my father's own climax, already so close, became ustoppable. Suddenly, as my third wad of cum splattered onto dad's chest, he arched his back stiffly for the second time, and that fat prong buried deep within me felt as though it swelled to twice its size, before I was suddenly flooded by warmth. The two of us came uncontrollably, howling and screaming into the still forest air. I managed to stay on top of my father only because of the massive column of cock that was driven through the very centre of me, filling my guts with an immeasurable volume of his jizz. Soon enough, my ass was unable to hold any more of my father's copious and potent seed and the tight seal created by dad's vascular cock and my tight sphincter built up a pressure so great that the excess came squirting out from within me at incredible speed. It ran over dad's crotch and lower stomach like a river, and as our orgasms faded to dulled euphoria, I saw that dad was now literally lying in a pool of his own seed. "Fucking hell, boy, I thought you said you wanted to take it slowly. But when you took the rest of this fat cock and you started cumming and clenching tight around your old man's dick, I just couldn't help myself." "I didn't mean to, dad. You hit my bad knee by accident and I couldn't hold my balance. I thought I was going to be seriously injured, taking all of that cock in one go, but instead it felt amazing. You still feel amazing, but I wanted it to last so much longer." "Oh, that isn't the end of it, son. I've been hard and horny all fucking day, and there's no way one load of cum is gonna see me spent this evening." I squirmed happily around on my father's groin at the news (as I too knew that within minutes I would be just as horny as though my first climax had never happened), and clenched my ass around his length, trying to milk the last few drops of that first monumental orgasm from his bollocks, safe in the knowledge that there was still at least one more load, just as large, ready to pump into my guts. Dad then hefted his upper body up off the grass and pulled me in to him, sat on his slightly softened dick as we kissed passionately. As dad's length deflated slightly within me, I felt as though I was being emptied, the pressure from so much dick within me lowering and the feeling of fullness ebbing away. Disappointment washed over me for a second as a thought ran through my mind that we would have to wait some more before enjoying our first real, proper fuck, but this was soon dispelled as the deflation of his dick inside me slowed to a halt, before once again lengtheneing, thickening and stiffening inside me as our kissing intesified until we were writhing against one another, conjoined in the most animalistic way, my legs wrapped tightly around dad's waist, his entire thirteen inches embedded within me, jerking violently with every pulse of blood. Without even realising we'd done so, a rhythm began to form between us. I was beginning to rock back and forth slightly upon dad's lap as dad did the best he could to respond to my movements. Our hands ran over each other's bodies and we were panting as though we had run a marathon, our sexual energies once more cranked up to maximum. Dad pulled out of our kiss, staring at me longinly, panting for breath slightly as our crude rhythm gathered steam. I was now beginning to raise myself from dad's lap a little each time now, feeling his fully-hard head nudging deep inside my bowels. "You really are as horny as your old man, boy. There's not many people I know that shoot a load like you did without even touching yourself." I smiled, flushing with colour at my father's compliments. "Now let's see if we can't make this even better than time." Dad supported my back as he lowered me backwards onto the ground as he sat up, readjusting his legs until he was knelt between my splayed legs, still completely embedded inside my chute. He bent over me, kissing me hard as I grabbed onto his nipples and pulled them towards me, and dad began to retract his rod from my ass. When he was halfway out, he suddenly plunged back into me, and as he repeated his strokes again and again, he would pull out a little father each time, until I was having that entire shaft pulled from inside me, then driven back home again. The lack of pain was amazing, not once had I felt even a twinge, even though nothing anywhere near as large as dad's dick had ever entered my ass before. My time spent sitting on the obscenely thick root of his cock had really loosened up my hole, but as dad slowly withdrew his shaft from within me, I would clamp down on it with all my might, as if trying to hold it tight and stop it from leaving me. Dad's face would contort with agonised pleasure as he struggled to drag his dick back through my vice-like ring each time. Dad soon slipped into a strong, brisk rhythm, and I lolled my head back on the ground, moaning and telling dad how good it was feeling. His fat thirteen inches of rock-hard dick were pounding my ass as I played with dad's nipples, making him fuck me harder and faster, knowing now how much of a turn-on his nipples were for him. Dad then began to pump my cock with his hand in time to his long fast strokes, and the two of us filled the clearing, now darkening quickly, with the sound of our fucking. Dad's hairy low-hangers slapped noisily in time to his strokes against my buttocks as I panted for breath. "That's my boy, Alex. Take your dad's big cock. Yeah... Just like your old man, loving that dick inside him, drilling his guts. You want my load inside you bad, don't you, boy? Yeah... Tell your dad how much you want me to fill you up with my slime." "Oh fuck, dad. Pummel my hole with that thing. Ohhh... give me your cum, dad. Let me take your load. Ungh... Damn, you're so fucking hot." My animal instincts fully released, I continued telling my dad how good it felt, and how much I wanted his load as our fucking continued at a frantic pace. My dad was able to control when he came amazingly, as was I to a degree, but after fifteen minutes of those long strokes in and out of my passage I had to wrench dad's hand off my cock to stop myself from shooting. "Your old man can fuck like a real master, son," dad grunted as tiny drops of seat ran down his red, shining face and showered my own. "I can keep this up for as long as I want, and your ass is too hot to waste. Squeeze your dad's dick with your ring, son, milk my cock for that jizz. Make me blow in your guts. Earn your father's seed, boy." My dad's nipples were now red and bloated from my abuse to them, and as dad leant over me, his whole body driving that incredible horsedick into me, I attacked them with even more fervent aggression, wanting to see how far I could push him. His face was twisted with ecstasy, his brow furrowed deeply and hips lips taut and parted as he stroked in and out of me, hissing his hot breath onto my face through clenched teeth. His breaths soon began to turn into strangled groans, which then became powerful growls as he once again clutched his hand around my throbbing six inches and built up to orgasm. As I sank my nails into each of my dad's abused nibs of flesh, I felt my balls pulling up tight against the root of my fat cock, and my panting became louder, more forceful as dad increased the pace of his fucking, roaring through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed onto mine. "Shoot... On your dad... Ungh... Unghh... Son..." Dad roared through his teeth at me as I felt my boiling load suddenly rushing towards release. Dad felt my sphincter tighten incredibly, sending him over the edge, and as he pointed my dick to his face, he plunged into me one last time. Dad opened his mouth just in time as a long rope of jizz shot from my gaping slit, streaking him across his cheek and in his mouth as his own dick bucked violently within my ass, and I once again felt his white-hot slime surging into my guts. Dad was panting hard, his mouth gaping as he bent down as near to my cock as possible, catching my second blast square in the mouth, as another flood of cum poured from his own deeply-buried rod. Dad swallowed down my gluey wad as he began quickly pulling out from me, filling the void with his third load as he did so. My own cock continued to unload itself onto my chest as dad knelt astride me and began furiously stroking his tool, and his fourth load came streaking up my stomach and chest in a thick white torrent. It was a huge volume, and splashed onto my body as dad jacked his cock hard in time to the pulsing jet of jizz. I was already holding what felt like a gallon of his gummy slime in my abused chute by just his initial climax, but dad's extra three wads from his second orgasm had overfilled me, and my now slackened ring was unable to contain all of the massive quanity of bull-slime he'd loaded me with. As dad continued to shoot ribbons and ropes of cum over his son's heaving, eager body, trails of his cum oozed from my abused ass. I was drenched with dad's seed; my entire torso had some quantity of my father's jizz covering it, and it ran down my sides onto the grass. I had cum impressively myself, my orgasm lasting for almost as long, but I had only managed to shoot, at most, half the volume that my father had, which wasn't taking into account the loads that slopped around within - and from - me, either. Dad fell onto me, exhausted and slick with sweat, coating his chest and belly with his cum as we pressed our bodies together, tasting my own bitter cum in his mouth as we kissed deeply. We were both completely depleted of our juices and had been going for almost an hour in all, as stars were now beginning to ignite in the dark sky above us, the last vestiges of sunset painting the few scrappy clouds with weak tones of pink and orange. As dad slid over onto his side next to me, wrapping his strong, hairy body around my own tightly, I let out a gentle chuckle as I traced dad's fine lines on his face with my finger. "What's up, son?" dad cooed in my ear, nuzzling his nose into my ear and gnawing ever so gently at my earlobe. "It's just so... so..." words just couldn't be found at that moment. In a matter of days, so much had happened that I'd never expected to. Both my father and I had unknowingly set up a chain of events over the past two years that had come racing towards its resounding, glorious crescendo just minutes before. My sudden exploration and constant indulgence in sex at college had awakened a sexual hunger that was somehow passed on from my father's own near-insatiable appetite. My return to a sex-starved home life had seen me view everything around me in a haze of coital frenzy. Our sudden isolation in the mountains together had focused the full force of my libido's urges upon my father. He, similarly, had unwittingly placed circumstances in such a way that, looking back, I felt sure made what had occurred on out camping trip all but inevitable. Like randomly placing a set of mirrors at different angles in a dark room, firing a beam of light, and realising that all of those mirrors suddenly came together to direct that light right back at you. He'd rediscovered just how much he enjoyed the gay side of his bisexuality whilst I was away at college. He'd been planning this trip as a way of allowing both me, and himself, to come out to each other as he was sleeping with other men. He'd thrown alcohol into the mix. The final - and probably most important - factor that had somehow locked all of these things into place had been my very reappearance into his life. Now an adult, speaking to dad on equal terms, he was able to see just how much like him I was becoming. Something had clicked in both our minds and here we were, laid by our dying camp fire, naked and coated in drying cum and sweat as we stared up at the stars which now spilled over the entirety of the canopy of night sky above us. "'Just so...' what, Alex?" Dad asked, unable to read my mind's workings. But I was just as unable to distill my thoughts into words at that time. "Nothing," I lied dreamily, before engaging dad in another of those long, deep yet gentle surges of kissing. ----------------------------------------------- Next morning came and almost went, with the two of us sound in dreamless sleep. The effort and concentration that we had used to keep us going through those previous few days had been released, and not in vain. After we had cleaned ourselves up and eaten a second dinner, we had fallen into bed, where we conjoined once more in a 69, falling asleep a little later with the other's seed tasting strongly in our mouths. After more than eleven hour's sleep, I was woken around half past ten by a feeling that I knew was going to become very familiar. I was on my front, and over me was dad. I was pinned to the ground by his fully hard and huge dick, which - as I groped backwards to feel - I could tell was not even halfway inside me. My hand wrapped itself around the length of shaft still not inside me, and I pulled it towards me, wordlessly letting dad know that his son was awake and ready. By the time his completely dry cock had been worked inside of me (and I can assure you that it took far, far longer than the previous evening, and with a considerable amount of discomfort), I was being assailed by torrents of dirty talking from dad in my ear, who seemed possessed. He spoke to me in the most depraved manner, but I loved it, moaning and grunting my compliance to him as he spat and hissed his filthy diatribe at me, feeling how the mere power of his words made my dick throb and lurch as it was pressed between me and the sleeping bag beneath me. His fucking was just as frantic and furious as his verbal attack on his son this morning. With a quick attack of short hard thrusts that went on for what felt like an age, I was brought to the point of involuntary climax for the second time since the start of our camping trip. Once more, my ass received a huge load of my dad's seed that morning as he cursed and spat in my ear. Now willing myself to cum, rubbing myself hard against the sleeping bag, soon I too was joining his climax. With our sexual energies calmed for the time being, we enjoyed the last two days of our camping trip relatively free from the long sideward glances at each other's crotches or the descent of perfectly mundane conversation into depraved talk of what we wanted to do to each other. We reverted almost to the normal father-son relationship we had shared before the fateful first day of our trip, but twice more came together, stroking or sucking each other to orgasm when our urges boiled to the surface again. But dad was unusually quiet on the way back through the woods on our last day, our things loaded up on our backs, and as I tried to get conversations going with little success, I became worried that now we were heading back to the real world, he had begun to regret what we had done. "Dad, are you ashamed of what we did this week?" I finally asked. Dad stopped in his tracks, looking shocked that I had asked such a question, then smiled broadly as he pulled me to him in a tight bearhug. "No, son. I don't regret it for a moment. But I'm worried about keeping it a secret. A lot of people don't understand what we're doing, and think that it's very wrong. You know that as well as I do. I'm concerned about whether it will be obvious to other people, and that we're going to have to lie to our friends. We can't assume that anyone will accept what's happened this week." His words made sense, and as we continued walking, we did so in silence, our actions weighing heavily on our minds, but not on our hearts. A few hours later we got back to the car. There was also a pickup parked in the dusty lay-by now, and we both exchanged a slightly worried glance to each other. Although it was incredibly unlikely, we both knew that we weren't the only ones who enjoyed deep-forest camping trips, and that we might not have been as alone as we had thought. But as we got into the car and headed for home, we forgot about the pickup. We lived far enough away for it not to be an issue, and by the time we hit the freeway we were chatting away like any normal father and son, our long drive home just like the journey we had taken to the mountains almost a week before. The only difference was that my hand rested on my father's thigh for the rest of the way home. I hope you've enjoyed reading this third part of My Father's Son. Thankyou for all the wonderful responses I've had to this series so far. If you would like to send me any feedback and/or criticisms (even negative - I rely on other people's opinions to help improve my work for the benefit of everyone), then please email me at: writer_xerxys@hotmail.com I also now have a mailing list, where I send the persons on the list a copy of this story at the same time it's submitted to nifty (which means you get to read it slightly earlier than anyone else!). If you would like to be on this mailing list, please send a blank email with 'MAILING LIST JOIN' as the subject, or if you are sending me any feedback, just mention it in the email, as I read all that I receive.