Date: Tue, 25 Sep 2018 12:34:24 -0400 From: David Greg Denton Subject: Camping with Our Dad - Part 4 Thanks ahead of time for posting this conclusion to a previous story. I appreciate it, DGD *Camping with Our Dad - Part 4 * Gay, incest, father, son If you enjoy the stories you read on Nifty, don't forget to donate, thanks! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html * * * * (The conclusion of "Camping with Our Dad") Ever since we'd gotten back from our infamous camping trip, Dad had been acting weird. He still went naked around the house every day except on Sundays. Then he went to church and came home all uptight and quiet again. I could hardly get two words out of him on that day of the week. He was still a deacon at the church I refused to go back to after we got back from the lake, and I was beginning to think he was ashamed of what we had done that weekend. I know, he said he wasn't, but his actions said otherwise. I began shutting down myself. I kept to my room when I wasn't in classes. I pretended to study, and most of the time I was, but I also didn't want to be around him since even the slightest touch from me made him jump away. I only came out to eat and use the bathroom, other than that, I stayed away from him. This went on for weeks before he finally came and knocked on my bedroom door one afternoon. "Yeah?" I called from the other side. I know I should have been more respectful, but I was just pissed at him all the time. "Can I come in? I need to talk to you." "Sure," another one-word answer, my usual those days. He opened the door, but I didn't bother to sit up. He walked over to the bed where I was laying and sat down. I tried not to admire his handsome face and gorgeous, hairy body as I waited for him to speak, but it was no use. I still desired him in every way. He seemed to be weighing his words carefully. Then he finally spoke, "I don't like the way things have been between us. I know that after... that weekend... they can never go back to the way things were, but I'm hoping we can at least be civil to one another, that you can at least speak more than one-word sentences to me." I wanted to get defensive but decided against it. He was making an effort and I thought I should too. "You're right, Dad, I have been less than civil towards you since we got back from the lake and I'm sorry." He finally, turned to look at me, a genuine smile on his face for the first time in a long time. "I'm sorry too, son. I've been dealing with some stuff of my own and I want nothing more than to fix what I broke that weekend." "What you broke?! What do you mean?" I asked as I sat up, confused. "I never should have had sex with my sons. It was wrong and now I don't know what to do with the guilt I feel every time I see you, naked, like you are now." "Dad, you're naked too. Don't you think I want to touch you every time I see you like this? I don't feel guilty about what happened that weekend, only love for you and Jerry." I touched his arm, then he jumped up and turned away from me. I got up and put my hand on his shoulder. He didn't pull away that time, which I took as a good sign. "I love you too, Ken, but everything I've ever been taught says that what we did was wrong, against nature, against God's law." I wrapped my arms around his waist and he leaned back into me. "It's that church you go to. It's what's coming between us, don't you see? Why do you think I won't go back there? What do I have to do to get you back?" "I don't know, son... I honestly don't know." I wasn't giving up though. I slid my hands down until they found the wiry hair just above his cock. I could feel him tense up against me, but I wasn't done yet. I let them slide a little lower until they met the base of his shaft. It felt thicker than usual, so I ventured further. His shaft kept getting thicker as I moved down toward the head. "Ken..." "Don't think, Dad, just feel," I advised in a low, soothing voice. He leaned back into me again as I stroked the head of his swollen cock. "That's it, big man. Give in to it," I continued to croon. "It feels good doesn't it, to have your cock stroked?" "Mmm, yes, it does," he answered. "Good. Now how does my hard cock feel against your ass?" "It feels so good, I..." but he didn't finish, so I tried to finish for him. "You want me inside you, don't you, Dad. It's okay to admit it." "I want you inside me, son." "I want that too, now do me a favor, bend over and put your hands on your knees." He did as I asked. I let go so that I could get the lube out of my nightstand. Then I came back, popped the top, squeezed some out and began to get his hole ready. "My slippery fingers feel good, don't they, Dad?" "Yes, Ken, they do." "Now, are you ready for my big dick?" "YES!" he answered, a little louder than either of us expected. "Good, because here it comes." I switched out my fingers for my cock and, after meeting with a little resistance, sunk it deep inside him. "Oh, fuck... me! Fuck me, Ken!" "You got it, Dad," I assured him then proceeded to pull out and thrust back in, hard. I fucked him harder and harder and each time he yelled out, "Harder, Ken, harder!" I gave it to him as hard as I could, but I could tell he was getting close, so I pulled out before either of us climaxed. "Now, you, Dad. Fuck your son like only a father can." He turned around, kissed me then spun me around and bent me over. I grabbed my knees while he grabbed the lube from the bed where I'd thrown it. He came back, slicked up my hole and his cock and then sunk deep inside me in one long, slow thrust. "Yeah, Dad... now fuck me, fuck me good!" He moved in and out, slowly at first, then picked up speed until he was breeding me like a rabbit. "Holy fuck!" he yelled out as he came inside me. I touched my own cock and came after just two strokes yelling, "Holy shit!" When I opened my eyes, my knees started to give out, but Dad was there to hold me up. He pulled me up and hugged me from behind, his cock still hard inside me, and whispered in my ear, "Let's go take a bath." I looked over my shoulder at him and asked, "A bath?" "Yeah, I want to hold my favorite son while I bathe him. Is that okay?" I smiled and answered, "Yeah, Dad, it's more than okay." He pulled out and then led me to the bathroom. We took a leisurely bath while Dad ran a washcloth and soap over my young body. After I was thoroughly clean, we got out and he dried me off, then himself. I suggested, "Let's get in bed, Dad. I want you to be holding me when I fall asleep." "You got it, son." I slipped in first and he followed. I noticed that he was still hard, so I lifted my leg. He didn't hesitate. He grabbed the lube, lubed me up then entered me. I lowered my leg and said, "I could sleep like this with you every night, Dad. It just feels right, ya know?" "I have to admit that it does, baby boy." I chuckled softly. "You haven't called me that in years, Dad." "It just felt right, son." "Then I'm glad. I'm also glad we fixed our relationship." "Yeah, me too. Go to sleep, if you feel like it... I'll still be here when you wake up." "Thanks, Dad, you're the best." I closed my eyes and didn't wake again for what seemed like hours. When I did, I noticed that Dad was no longer in me, but he was still behind me, holding me, snoring lightly. I smiled to myself and thought how lucky I was. To have such a wonderful, loving, caring, and giving dad. I laid there thinking for the longest time and once he was awake too, I decided it was time to come clean. "Dad, something changed in me last night and I can't go back." He turned in my arms and asked, "What do you mean, son?" He looked as if he both wanted to and didn't want to hear what I was going to say next. "Something `clicked' in me and I can't go back to the way things were before." I could tell this revelation didn't sit well with him. He tried to pull away, but I wouldn't let him. I held on tighter. "Hear me out, okay? I love you, Dad." "I know, and I love you too," he echoed. "No, Dad, I'm in love with you. I want to be with you and only you. I can't think of anyone but you, day and night... especially at night. I not only want to touch you, but I want to kiss those luscious, soft, dark lips of yours. I want to feel you hold me in these powerful, hairy arms as we drift off to sleep together. I want you to make love to me and only me. I want to make love to you and only you, Dad. I'll understand if you don't feel the same way, but I there it is. I just felt that I had to tell you." He seemed to ponder what I'd said for the longest time before he spoke again. Then I felt him relax as he said in a whisper that I almost couldn't hear, "I feel the same way, Ken." Then he did something I'd never seen him do before, he started crying. I held him closely as the tears flowed down his cheeks and onto my shoulder. There's something you must know, my dad never cried. He had always been strong for me and my brother. I could tell this was something that was tearing him up inside and I wanted nothing more than to comfort him and make the pain go away, just as he had always done for me. "Dad, I know this can't be easy for you. And there will be challenges. People will want to know why I don't have someone special, why you don't date, why I'm living at home long after I graduate. It won't be easy, but if we truly feel the way we do about one another, then we have to resolve to make it work, right?" He looked at me and as if seeing me for the first time he asked between sniffles, "When did you get so smart, son?" "I get it from you, Dad." He chuckled, and I joined him, glad to have eased the tension if only a little bit and only for a little while. "When did you have time to think about all this, though?" "I've been in self-imposed exile for months in case you haven't noticed." He chuckled again, "Yes, you have, and I trust now that we've cleared the air and made our confessions, you'll come out of this room and hang out with me again?" "Gladly, Dad." We hugged then got up and left my small room for the comfort of the sofa in the much larger living room. "So, what do we do now, Ken." "Well, I say we sit here, enjoy holding each other, because we haven't done this in forever, and then see how it goes. We don't have to make plans, just take it one day at a time, right?" "One day at a time, right, son." He laid down and invited me to lay down in front of him. That was the way it should have been but for the last few months of guilt on his part and anger on mine. Before long I heard him snoring softly, so I figured I could use a nap too. When I awoke, hours had passed, and I was getting hungry. I didn't want to disturb him, but my stomach growled, and it was loud enough to wake him up. "Hungry, son?" he asked. I chuckled and answered, "Yeah, sorry, Dad." "No worries. I could eat." So, I got up, then turned and helped him up. We walked the short distance to the kitchen. He pulled out some roasted chicken and potato salad, got some flavored water for me and iced tea for him. We sat down at the bar together, something we hadn't done in way too long, and enjoyed our first of what we both knew would be many more meals together now that we had resolved our issues. Our love was all that mattered and we loved each other enough to make it through anything... as long as we did it together. The end