Date: Tue, 15 Jun 2021 17:00:12 +0100
From: Phoenix <phoenixvixvi@gmail.com>
Subject: An American Dad in London: Chapter 19

Chapter 19: "Wanna Fuck Me?"
All my stories: phoenix-stories.com

CALLUM:

    "Wanna fuck me?" Three little words that changed everything.

    On the last day of school, I'd found myself spending the night at my
father's. Spending the night WITH my father, in his bed, the two of us
naked and cuddled up. All of the secrets were no more; the cat was out of
the bag quite literally, as I'd admitted to catfishing Dad as "Cat," and
he forgave me for it. It felt like turning a new leaf in our
relationship. A chance to put all the ugliness and sneakiness behind, and
just be honest.

    Encouraged by this new burst of honesty, as well as the sensation of
my father's cock between my cheeks as he spooned me from behind in the
middle of the night, something came over me and I found myself saying
those words. "Wanna fuck me?" It felt revolutionary, yet oh so casual.
I'd already been fucked before, by Dad's buddy Ben, so I knew I could
take it. Dad knew I could take it, since he was in bed with Ben and me
when we did it. Next thing I know, Dad had one, two, three fingers
covered in his saliva up my arse. I relaxed into it, and soon enough I
was being filled by the dick that made me -- something beyond my wildest,
porn-fueled fantasies.

    The following morning, I snuck out of Dad's bed, needing to go to the
bathroom. I took a piss, and unable to hold it in anymore, I sat down and
pushed out the cumload that was inside my arse. I did it reluctantly,
looking down at it before flushing, hoping this wasn't the last of my
Dad's loads to be inside me.

    When I went back to the bedroom, my father was awake in bed, rubbing
his eyes and wishing me a good morning.

    "Morning," I said, jumping in bed and giving him a kiss on the lips.
He seemed startled but didn't fight me off, although he didn't open his
lips either as I tried to get my tongue between them.

    "Need to brush my teeth," he said and disappeared to the bathroom.

    As I waited for Dad in bed, I fought the urge to reach for my phone
and start scrolling through it. Somehow, it felt like what happened in
this room was special; like we were cut off from the rest of the world
here. I was in no rush to reconnect to reality, even though I was getting
bored waiting without a device in my hands. Apparently, Dad was doing
more than just brushing his teeth, since a few minutes later I heard the
shower running.

    I lay waiting patiently for over 15 minutes. When Dad finally came
out of the bathroom, he had a towel wrapped around his waist and before I
had a chance to say "no need to be modest now," he was already putting on
a pair of underwear and asking me what I would like for breakfast.

    "Umm... I'm not picky," I said, watching him get dressed and disappear
to the kitchen. I felt confused by this level of coldness, almost as if
last night had never happened, but I was also reluctant to bring it up.
After all, Dad might feel confused after what happened, and I wanted to
give him time to process it if that's what he needed. Unlike me, he
wasn't gay, so maybe that was fucking with his mind on top of everything
else? I decided not to overthink it, so I got dressed and grabbed my
phone, joining Dad in the kitchen for breakfast.

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--

    As it turned out, Dad and I didn't mention sex or anything related to
it all week. That morning, I left his flat and went to spend some time
with my mum and grandparents, who I hadn't seen much of lately. I didn't
see Dad for a few days, and I didn't bother him with too many texts
either. There were two reasons: one, I didn't want to be annoying after
he so generously forgave me for catfishing him. But two, with Father's
Day coming up, I knew I would get to see him soon no matter what. I
figured it's best to talk about everything in person when we get the
chance.

    Sure enough, Dad texted me two days before Father's Day to make
plans. This would be our first Father's Day together; the first time I
ever spent the holiday with my dad. He knew that it meant just as much to
me as to him, if not more. Dad asked me what I wanted to do, and I
assured him that a dinner and some downtime with him would be the perfect
way to celebrate. I got his gift ready (a mug with a photo of us and the
cliched "World's Best Dad" on it) and I went to meet him for dinner at a
swanky Soho restaurant that Sunday.

    "I'm going to San Francisco next week," Dad suddenly announced over
dinner. "And I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."

    "Sure!" I said, almost jumping out of my chair. For the past week I'd
been worried about Dad acting distant, but here he was inviting me to go
to California with him. That must mean everything was cool between us,
right?

    "Okay. I'll go ahead and book the ticket," Dad said, sounding weirdly
formal. Even though the food at this place was delicious, the atmosphere
was too uppity for my taste. I was looking forward to going to Dad's flat
after this, just having a cider and watching some stupid TV. And maybe...
something more.

    "Are you sure you want to come over to my place?" Dad asked me after
the meal as we waited for him to get the check.

    "Umm, yeah, but it sounds like YOU don't want me to come," I said
truthfully.

    "No, no, it's not that. It's just..." he stuttered, which was VERY
uncharacteristic for him.

    "Dad, what's wrong?" I asked, putting my hand on his.

    "Let's talk when we get to the flat," he said as the server
reappeared with the check.

    Fifteen minutes later, we were on Dad's couch. He was having a scotch
and I was having a cider, and it was about time to put this awkwardness
to an end.

    "I'm sorry I've been kinda... distant lately," he apologized.

    "Yeah, I noticed, I'm not gonna lie. But I also didn't wanna be needy
and text you and quiz you about it," I said.

    "See, that's the problem! You're my son, you could never be needy. I
want you to be able to text me, anytime, for whatever reason."

    "I know," I said. "It's just... after what happened..."

    "It made things awkward between us," Dad added.

    "Well, yes. But I didn't feel awkward at first."

    "Oh. You didn't?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

    "No. I woke up the following morning feeling great! And then you got
up and..."

    "And I was all weird. I'm sorry. I just... I'm having a difficult time
wrapping my head around what we did. It never should've happened," he
said, sounding like he was chastising himself.

    "Dad... It's okay. I liked it. I was the one who brought it up."

    "And I should've known better!" he cut me off, almost shouting.

    "If... If that's how you feel... then that's how you feel," I said,
unsure what else to say.

    Dad sighed and put his drink down, clinking the glass against the
table loudly.

    "Look, I'm tired and it's getting late," he said, even though it
wasn't even 10 o'clock yet. "I'm gonna go to bed."

    I was amazed how quickly the tides had turned. Were we having a fight
and I didn't even know it? Either way, I took this as a sign that I
should leave. Until a pleasant surprise finally happened, and Dad asked
me, "Are you leaving, or do you wanna spend the night here?"

    "I... I'll spend the night if that's okay," I said.

    "Sure. I'll be in bed," he said, taking his shirt off. "Join me
whenever you're ready."

    "I'll come now," I said, picking up the glasses and tidying up. I
wasn't too sleepy, but I wanted to lie in bed with Dad on Father's Day...
even if he thought that what we did there last time was a mistake.

    We brushed our teeth and slipped under the covers naked, this time
without cuddling or spooning. Ten minutes later, I could hear Dad
snoring, as I lay in bed analysing the situation.

    Dad felt guilty about fucking me, no doubt about it. I didn't want
him to -- I wanted him to feel the opposite! -- but I could kinda see
where he was coming from. After all, he was the older one, my father, and
he probably felt like he had taken advantage of me. I struggled to find
the words to tell him that's not what it was, but my vocabulary failed
me. I tossed and turned, worried that just after the truth came out, we'd
already hit another bump in the road. And judging by Dad's behaviour,
this was a big one.

    It was a hot summer night. In his sleep, Dad (who always complained
about British flats not having A/C) kicked the cover off of him. I looked
down at his body, admiring it. There wasn't a lot of light coming in
through the window, but it was just enough to get my mind going as my
eyes darted down to Dad's cock. I could see it lying on one of Dad's
thighs, looking big even in its soft state. I licked my lips, craving
some dessert after our mutual meal.

    Just then, I realised that if I couldn't find the words to tell Dad
how I felt, I would show him. I crawled down until my nose was an inch
away from his cockhead, sniffing and smelling it. My father probably
hadn't showered since this morning, so I could feel his smell without it
being overwhelming. Even just doing this, smelling him, without going
further, felt sooo good. But I was greedy, and I wanted more. I licked my
lips again, and slowly wrapped them around my dad's cock.

    I'd seen several porn vids where guys get sucked off in their sleep,
sometimes to completion, without waking up. I always felt like that shit
must be staged, since there was no way someone could sleep through a
blowjob. Now, I got to witness my father sleeping through the first few
seconds of me nursing on his cock, until he started to stir and realise
what was going on.

    "Callum?" he asked, turning to see if I was lying in bed next to him.

    "Mhm," I said from between his legs, half of his shaft inside my
mouth already. The stimulation I was providing was quickly making my
dad's dick get hard.

    "What are you doing? C'mon," he said, an unconvincing bid for me to
stop. Of course, I would've stopped if that's what Dad really wanted me
to do. But the way he made no effort to get me off, told me all I needed
to know. In my mouth, my father's dick reached full hardness.

    "Ahh!" I heard Dad moan loudly as he started to leak precum down my
throat. I swallowed it, and it tasted delicious.

    "Callum..." he moaned my name again, the head of his dick now hitting
the back of my throat, making me gag.

    "I want your cum, Dad," I said, taking the cock out my mouth for a
second so I could speak. While I did that, I ran my fist up and down
around it, stroking the shaft, using my saliva and Dad's precum as lube.

    "We shouldn't do this," he said.

    "Do you want me to stop?" I checked, though I had a pretty good
feeling what the answer would be.

    "No. Don't stop," Dad panted, desperately needing release.

    "Alright," I nodded, taking his cock in my mouth again. Even though
it'd only been a few seconds, it felt like eternity. Now, having him back
inside my mouth felt right. It felt like home. And I couldn't think of a
better day to do this than today.

    "Fuck!" Dad moaned, and I brought both of my hands to his balls and
started playing with his ball sack. I could feel the cum his balls were
about to churn out and feed to me. All of my little brothers and sisters
bout to shoot down my throat.

    "FUCK!" Dad repeated himself, squirming more and more with each
moment. He was on the edge, I could feel it. I knew just the feeling,
when your cockhead's super sensitive and you can't hold back. Those
wonderful, two-three seconds leading up to it, when you feel like you're
on top of the world. I sped up, sucking harder and deeper, making sure
the head of his dick was right up against my throat until...

    "AAAAAAAH, FUCK!!" Dad exploded, filling my mouth with his
DNA. My DNA. I'd been expecting it yet it still caught me by surprise
with how much there was. I quickly swallowed as much as I could,
unwilling to let any of it go to waste. Dad was cumming even faster than
I could swallow, but I did manage to get all of his jizz down
successfully. I'd been craving dessert, and FUCK: this was one delicious
treat.

    As soon as I was certain that my father was done, I took his cock out
of my mouth and gave the tip a goodbye kiss before crawling back up on
the bed, until Dad and I were face-to-face again.

    "Do you regret that?" I asked him, making eye contact in the dimly
lit room.

    "No. No, I don't regret that at all," he smiled. Then, he put his
arms around me and pulled me in, until we fell asleep cuddled up like
that.

All my stories and illustrations: phoenix-stories.com

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