Date: Sun, 26 Nov 2017 21:57:14 -0600 From: roughrawready Subject: Anthem, Part 3: (Gay Incest Theme) Anthem Part 3: Moving Parts I appreciate your feedback! I live hearing about what gets other men off. Email me at roughrawready(at)gmail(dot)com. This is a story that involves consensual sex between an adult man and his father. If that's not your kink, then this story probably not for you. ___________________________________________ Previously: Dad slid off my slimy and spent cock, standing to meet my eye. His breath was ripe with Theo's dick and the bleachy scent of cum. His hands circled my waist, and we closed in to press our hairy chests together. I rested my head on my Dad's heavy shoulder muscle, and Dad held me safe. "Fuck, son. You're a goddamn beast," he growled in my ear. "Can't believe this happened. Can't believe we didn't go there sooner. But like I said, Trey--you control this. Deep as you wanna go, as dirty as you wanna explore, I'll be there for you, stud. You're my boy, and Daddy's here to take care of your needs." ___________________________________________ A couple weeks had passed since the Dad/son sex party. Since I discovered my father--hairy, jacked, alpha male Jerry Aldine--was an insatiable cumdump for son dick. Since I first fucked my Old Man's perfect cunt and it milked four loads of son seed out of me. Since then my Dad let me take the lead on what happened next. When we got back to our house, Dad stripped at the door. "No point in pretendin' anymore," he mumbled as he revealed the blocky muscles of his torso. Then he dropped trou, and bent over to expose the musky trench that made my balls tighten. Kicking off his socks and shoes to remove his jeans, Dad stood back up and stared back at me. He was naked but for a jock, the kind he wore back in his ball playing days. Hell, maybe one of the same ones. Dad never really fell out if shape like most guys his age. A little extra padding, a little more weathered skin, sure, but I had always been proud that my Dad was a fucking stud and for the most part kept up at it. "Now that we both know what we want, this is how I plan on hangin' around the house," Dad grinned faintly, gauging my reaction. "When there's not company. You're welcome to do what you want, son." I was suddenly struck with nerves, as though I hadn't earlier pounded Dad's cunt into submission. As though I hadn't witnessed at least two other young bucks getting their turn on his butch fuckhole. As unsure of how to approach what came next, my well-used dick was suddenly stone hard in my own jock, tenting my sweats in a severe outward jut. "Trey--" my father started, then closed his eyes to think. "This is new for me, too. And we're gonna have to figure out some boundaries. But I ain't gonna pretend like what happened didn't happen. Or how, if it happens again--and that's your call, son--that I don't want it." Dad's face became solemn, with eyes that looked anywhere but at me. His voice caught in his throat, hoarse and quiet. "It took me a long time to admit to myself what I wanted. Too fuckin' long. Don't follow in my footsteps. Not on this, Trey." On a night of firsts, there was yet another: Dad's breath smelled like old beer and young cum as he pushed his tongue into my mouth. I had thrown my arms around his bull neck, and we fell into a deep make-out session where the world just seemed to fall away. His lips were surprising soft against mine, his beard scoured my scruffy chin. Dad's tongue was a magical thing--strong, insistent, compliant when I pressed forward with my own. Feeling my Dad pull me close with his big meat hook paws made my cock ache for its hardness. "Fuck, son, where'd you learn to do that?" he asked, his cool blue eyes flashing as they searched my face in wonder. "Men my age don't know how to kiss like that!" I tried being cool, but my voice came out less studly than I intended. "I'm just, y'know...inspired, Dad," I offered weakly. "You bring it out in me." "Oh yeah?" Dad caught a wide grin, looking me up and down. "You been pervin' on your Old Man as hard as he's been for you?" Before I could answer, Dad smashed his face into mine, our lips a frenzy of kisses. Dad's hands roamed my neck and back and ass, as both our hard cocks ground against each other but for my clothes and his jock. Pulling free, his smile returned, "You jerk that big son dick thinkin' about takin' Daddy's ass? `Cause you already know how far I've gone to get that itch scratched, Trey. Say the word, and Daddy's ass is all yours. Just. Say. The. Word." I ended up fucking another load into Dad's hairy muscle hole that night. Roaring at the top of my lungs as I blasted, ramming my hips as far as my shaft would go inside of him. The whole time fucking him, my Dad was goading me for more, whispering filthy shit that put a buzz under my ballsac. How he hasn't missed a Dad/son party in almost four years. How the most he's ever taken was nineteen different son dicks in a night. How last Labor Day night, those nineteen dicks fired off twenty-seven loads of son cum into his gut. How he got home that night, still unsatisfied so he fucked himself with a dildo while I slept in the other room, using it to coax out the seed of those boys so he could savor their scent and taste as he sucked it clean from the fake dong. How he had snatched my used underwear--including the old briefs I used as a cum rag--and would bone up from the scent of me. How no matter how much of an insatiable fuckhole he was, he never got off without thinking of his own boy. Me. We ended up showering off together after I came, then crashing in our own beds. It was the last night I slept in my own room. Between then and now, we fell in a pretty regular pattern without really talking about it. I woke up to Dad deep throating my morning wood until I stirred. I gotta tell you, waking up to a man's man like my father swinging from your dick every morning sure as hell beats an alarm clock. Once I was awake, there was always fucking. If we were in a hurry, we'd pad off to the shower and I'd pound my morning nut into his hungry cunt as we got cleaned up. Once, when I was slow to get up, Dad sat down on my piece and rode me for all he was worth. Having a hairy chested, bull-built stud twice my age bouncing on my dick was pretty fuckin' epic. Dad shot hands-free that morning, painting my chest with ropes of paternal cream as I fired off my first load of the day deep into his clenching Daddy hole. Usually, though, we made the enough time in the morning for a real fuck. Started with my father on all fours and me plowing him from behind. It was a massive confidence boost to grab my big muscled Dad by the hips and slam his hairy ass with eight inches of uncut college boy dick, all the while Dad begging for it. I almost never finished that way, though it was fucking hot. Instead, I flipped him onto his back and dove back in, sawing my big son dick deep into my cumdump Dad's sweet fuckin' ass. Some of the time, sure, the friction and clench of my father's cunt of my piece was what got me off. But mostly, it was the look on Dad's face--the welcoming, almost beatific expression, the need in his eyes, the husky prod of his voice--that would pull my nuts up to the base of my cock and launch my morning seed. Dad was all business at work. Nothing seemed to have changed in public. My Dad pushed his men hard, but did his best to reward that effort. On the job site, Dad was all alpha male, all the time. I got zero breaks for being the boss' kid--if anything, Dad rode me harder than the other guys. After work, Dad would drive us both back home, and he'd strip down at the door. Watching my stud of a father walk around the house with nothing on but a jock had me perpetually ready to go. Half the time, I'd take Dad's hole right there in the front hall, managing to get the door locked right before I sank balls deep into his sweaty trench. The other half, we took the fun to the shower, cleaning off the day's grime while I boned Dad's thick, butch ass. Dad and me would turn in together every night, and fuck if I didn't cunt him out again before crashing. My dick could not get enough of Dad's insatiable ass. On his end, Dad took everything I threw at him like a champ. The man threw up his thick legs at my first nod, invited the roughest fuck I could give, and held his own muscle cheeks open as I creamed his pink. Every fuckin' time. The man who raised me--who had sacrificed so much so I was comforted and safe and loved--was unsuprisingly giving of himself again. It took me a few weeks of the thrill of impossibly hot sex to normalize before I wrapped my head around it. But as we hit a routine, it struck me that Dad was doing what he always did: caring after me, just in a whole new dimension. This month's Dad/son party was coming up, and both of us danced around the subject for days after our invitations arrived in our respective inboxes. We let it slide until the night before, when Dad finally cut through the bullshit and asked, "So are gonna do this party tomorrow, or not?" I was torn over the sex party. On one hand, it's where we first realized that we were hot for one another. The first place I fucked my sexy bull stud of a father. The first time I had the kind of dirty man sex I'd craved since as far back as I could remember. Watching Dad take Theo's big blonde soncock while Theo's Dad swallowed me to the balls was fuckin' hot--if I weren't getting so much action on the regular, that mental picture would have surely been spank fodder. I knew that if we went to the Dad/son party, Dad would get thoroughly cunted by fuck knows how many young studs, and I could be swimming in my choice of Grade-A Daddy hole. I guess my only reservation was that I already had the man I wanted most. Dad was the sexiest man I'd ever known, and that perfect fuckhole milking my dick three or four times a day was my dream made real. It didn't help that I was falling hard for Dad. I had always loved him as a son does his father, of course, but over the past month my feelings for the man had progressed and pronounced. It was confusing, and I tried my best to just let things ride. Try as I might, though, I couldn't get the idea of having something more with Dad. Dad sensed my reluctance, and turned to face me. His hand went on my shoulder with a paternal squeeze, and his voice was even. "Listen, Trey, I'm not sorry for getting my needs met. And I'm grateful that the party showed us the truth, that it gave us this. But what we've got going is the fuckin' best, and I don't want you to feel weirded out." Dad flashed that smile that made panties wet and my cock fill out. "Why don't we stay in tomorrow? Hang here, and you can fuck your Old Man six ways to Sunday. Sound good?" As indecisive as I was, I was relieved that Dad sorted things. Better, that I agreed with his thinking. All I knew is that I fuckin' loved this man, and that my heart had never felt so full. I let go of a deep breath and returned his smile, "Sounds good, Dad. Maybe start our own party tonight?" I grabbed the hand on my shoulder by the wrist and brought it up to my mouth, kissing his thick, calloused fingers. "Fuck yeah! Love how you've taken after me, being a fuck-hungry pig all the time. Can't get enough of you, son." Dad closed in me, chests and crotches mashed together as he wrapped me in his thick Daddy arms. I damn near melted at the heat and smell of him; the grit in his voice literally made my knees buckle. As we made out, my hands gripped along his broad muscles, fingers tangling through the man's fur. They found their way to the thick band of his straining jockstrap, yellowed from age and bleach and cum wads he'd blown into it. I traced along its edge, tentative at first as I wedged between where our bodies met. Dad gave me a half-step back, and both my hands started working the mesh pouch of the man who made me. It was pretty evident that I'd inherited my dick from my father. The fucker had a panty-dropper cock--a little over eight, rock solid, thick, bone straight. A hood that skinned back from bright purple glans when aroused. Musky but clean, magnetic to anyone lucky enough to see it bared. Fuck knows I had been kept awake by the sounds of my Old Man long dicking his revolving door of short-term girlfriends. The rhythmic knocking sound of the headboard against the wall, the woman's cries of encouragement, the noises of slapping skin that escalated. Dad's voice, whispering shit about tearing up her pussy at first, devolving into his manly grunts as he approached the finish line. Well before all of this, I would fake sleep in my bedroom until Dad started fucking, stroking my dick along with the headboard until we both blasted. I would moan into my pillow as my father got his nut, the image in my head was that he was using that hard shank on me. I was suddenly very scared of what I wanted, and I was suddenly buoyed by the trust and love I shared with Dad. Our bond had never been tighter, and I yanked back his jock pouch to free his big fuckin' Dadcock. Dad gasped and shuddered at my grip. Aside from a convenient handle while I cunted his butch ass, I hadn't spent much time focusing on his meat. More often than not, my father had shot his load into his jock as I plowed him, rarely with more than a couple tugs to the pouch. And over the past month, the cycle of girlfriends dried up--Dad hadn't sunk that beautiful fuckpiece into a wet hole in weeks. I was scared as shit. Apart from a couple of my own fingers, my ass was bona-fide cherry. The idea of my father claiming my hole as his own--the ass that he bred and raised--made my ass clamp down in a mix of lust and fear. Before I talked myself out of it, I pulled away from our kiss and grabbed Dad's wrist. I guided him to his--our--bedroom, and began to strip silently. I was psyching myself up the whole time. Fuck, if my Old Man's ass could take a pounding like I'd been handing out, then so could I. Dad was the most alpha fucker I knew, and I was cut from his cloth. I must have been lost in my head, because Dad had a curious look. "Everything good, Trey?" he searched my face as he asked, grabbing my shoulders in an show of paternal concern. His touch seemed somehow warmer, making my skin feel flushed. The hair along my ass crack stood on end as my glutes flexed involuntarily. "Fuck, Dad," I started, my eyes welling up. "I'm better than good. Hottest fuckin' stud I know is naked right in front of me--" Dad's pale eyes rolled as he began to interrupt. I shushed the handsome fucker by placing my palm on his chest. "No, seriously, Dad. You're the man I fantasize about. The man I want, like this, fuckin' A yeah. But more, too." "Son, I--" At the insinuation, Dad was clearly torn in the space from being concerned and being a man with a hard cock swinging between his meaty thighs. I shut my father up by kissing him fiercely, cupping his strong jaw as I pushed my lips onto his. "Dad, I love you, but you gotta shut the fuck up and let me work this out," I warned, a smile working to soften my words. "I may not have the balls to ask for this again, so I'm just gonna say it." "I'm, uh...I guess, a virgin. Y'know, there," I tripped up my words, but the warmth I felt emanating from my father's eyes prodded me to bravery. "I--I guess I mean to say I've never been, y'know, fucked before." "More than anything, before I pussy out, I want you. To fuck me." Saying the word `fuck' came out more confident this time, more lewdly. "I want the man who made me to take my ass, for the first time." As Dad's smile dropped for shock, I took the initiative. Emboldened by saying what I desired, I sat on the chair next to our shared bed, scooting my beefy college boy ass off the edge. I rolled my hips and legs skyward, revealing my splayed-open trench as I hooked my wrists under my knees. My cherry, that pink, impossible knot was there exposed for Dad's taking. "I want it more than anything, Dad," I beamed, eager to take this next step with my Old Man. I put as much bass in my voice as I could muster, while offering my own father my most intimate place. "I've wanted you like this for a long time. Please...Daddy--" The name was a filthy prayer, the word itself making my tender hole wink at the man about to claim it. To his credit, Dad's steel-hard pick gurgled out a fat drop of precum that hung on his tip. "--cop my cherry. Fuck your son, Daddy." ___________________________________________ Coming Soon...Chapter Four: The First Taste