Date: Wed, 24 Mar 2004 21:50:26 -0500 From: A. Cheshire Cat Subject: Shut Up Mom's Sleeping Fans might be interested to know there's another story of mine in the Gay/Encounters section (The Seduction of Mr. X), as well as one in the Bi/Adult-Friends section (Pissing on Memory Lane). There'll be another one along shortly. Shut Up, Mom's Sleeping By: A. Cheshire Catt Email comments to kierkegaard_is_cool@hotmail.com It was hot out, dark too, and the light at the kitchen table was bringing moths from miles away, june bugs and little flies: banging into the glass, the outside tried to get in. I was winning at a stupid game of Crazy-Eights Countdown against my father. He and I were so drunk we could barely hold our heads up. It wasn't often that we drank with each other. I was afraid of being initiated into that terribly awkward conversation of being too effeminate, and he was probably too bored of hanging out with someone so comparatively opposite to his usual chums. We didn't do this sort of thing basically. Being young and drunk, I was definitely horny that night. It was late. If I'd stayed at my place in the city that weekend I would have been at the bath at that moment fucking two or three men at once. The moment that thought entered my mind I couldn't even think about the Queen of Spades and her court anymore. In my pants my cock grew, harder and harder, pushing at the soft cotton of my shorts. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't stand, my Dad, I thought, would roll his eyes. The more I tried to get rid of the thoughts the more I couldn't stop thinking about it. I could almost feel darkened, heated hands of strangers all over my body, wet lips wrapping around my young meat, sucking, mm, sucking at the throbbing sexuality. It was almost as if he could smell it, that's the way it seemed, as if he suddenly detected the scent of my musk. The card game dwindled, there was nothing else to do about it. I blushed and he stared at his hands. I was nearly trembling as the game halted. Why wasn't he playing his turn? He knew everything. He knew what I was thinking. "I have to go to the washroom," I almost yelled as I stood. "Shut up, your mother's sleeping," he said. She was too tired earlier on and had gone upstairs to bed, passed out, out like a light as they say. I apologized, but in my hesitation I had turned and my boner was tenting my shorts. See, it was so hot that night that we weren't wearing anything else but shorts. It was fucking hot out. It was so hot that it was hot in the house. He saw my secret bulging and wobbling and straining. He shot his eyes at mine and I felt so afraid. He curled his finger signaling for me to come closer. As I went up to him he slid his chair out and grabbed the waistband of my shorts. I didn't know what to think. One always obeys their father. "Let's see what's going on here." "No dad, let's just go to bed." "Are you telling me no?" This made him mad, and here I'd thought it was the erection that got him mad. I didn't think it was right though. I was so tempted, the blood was whirling about in my body and I thought I was going to vomit I was so dizzied. "Let's go to bed." "Let's just keep our mouth shut son." He finally pulled the shorts over the pole and revealed my cock, it sprung up into his face. He grabbed it in his rough hands and stroked it. I melted instantly. I put my hand on his stroker, and attempted to remove it while at the same time being completely unable to resist. "Ain't you a bit young to have a cock this big." "Sure, I guess, but I hear it's genetic." We both looked at each other, I think I just asked to see his cock. Drunkenly he fought with his short and revealed his. It was massive, and as it was so hard it was enflamed and oozing a little juice already. "Why don't you touch mine too?" I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone was coming. "She's out son, come on, just touch it a little." "I don't know Dad." "I'm touching yours." He was begging me, bargaining with me came next. "I'll suck you even if you touch me." I was so horny. The heat was making me cave to his cool offerings. But it was so wrong. All my friends would cringe, this would be the only sex story I could never tell them. This is illegal I thought. I am breaking the law. Then I thought about it for a second and realized he'd be the one. I thought then that I had nothing to lose. I bent over a little and ran my fingers along it. His eyes rolled up into his head. "Suck it now." He smiled at me and pulled me in close. In a vacuum of rum-stained breath he enveloped my oozing boyhood. I touched the top of his head. Back and forth, or up and down, he pumped my little cock mightily. As he did this he let my shorts fall to the floor and I was standing there naked. When he let himself off me he gasped for air. "Now suck mine," he said and sat back. "And then I'm going to fuck that tight little ass of yours son." "You can't do that?" He stood up then, wobbling a bit, but definitely towering over me. He said, "I can do whatever the fuck I damn well please, don't talk back to your father son, now get down and suck for father's cock and tell me you fucking love it: do it!" I got down on my knees and stock my mouth around his big meat. I actually had to stretch my lips around it. It was so hard to suck on him with it being as huge as it was. My mouth was too small. He pushed it in but it wasn't really fitting in. I used my hands to stroke him -- I figured he was at that age that he'd just blow his load super quick and there wouldn't be any fucking involved with a cock like this, not tonight, and not ever. Soon he pushed me off his cock and told me to lean over the back of the chair. "Dad you're too big, I won't be able to." "Shut up son, and don't make a noise, your mother could wake up and you'd have a lot of explaining to do." That statement didn't make any sense, but he was working a guilt on me that he had the power to because he was my father. I couldn't do anything but submit. I felt him rubbing a spit-lacquered finger against my hole. I felt him swivel it in. Then I heard him pull up a huge hork and throw it on my perked hole. I felt his snot running down my pink balls and actually loved it. He roughly pulled it up with his fingers and poked it in my ass. Then he grabbed one of the nearly empty beers I'd had on the table and poured it on his cock. He punched that beer-soaked cock of his against that snotty hole of mine and I knew I'd be in pain. He shoved and I did everything to shut off my brain, to stop my muscles from tensing. He pushed and I was molested right there at the kitchen table. Further and further he went into me and eventually it reached a point where I thought I would either burst in two or I'd cry out loudly for him to fuck me. I want something to happen down there. In the heat of that night, that moment, I whispered to him, "Mm, Daddy, fuck me now, fuck me hard." "Oh yah son, I'm gonna fuck that ass of yours so bad you won't be able to sit for a week." You know what, that's what he did. He started to fuck me until it seemed the whole house was rocking with each thrust. I gasped a couple of times which resulted in him putting his rough hand over my mouth and preventing anymore noise from coming out. He pushed harder and harder. I was cumming just standing there. It was running down my leg and onto the floor. It felt so good, the steamy boy juice dripping down my hot hairless leg in torrent after torrent, and I wasn't even touching myself. I was gripping the chair and clawing at it. He pulled out and shot cum up my back and then rubbed it in. "Go to bed faggot." He said. "Yes Daddy." It became a regular thing whether I was wanting it or not.