Dad's Housewarming Gift This is a true account of events that changed my life forever. Although in the retelling it may seem a bit contrived, each fact is true. Had it not happened in the way it did, I would probably not be compelled to share it with you. On my 18th birthday, I had decided that enough was enough. I had to move out of my parents' house and find a place of my own. Having gone through puberty at a very young age--I was 11 years old when I began to sprout the first course, brown hairs on my face, arms, and legs-- the past several years had been fraught with exploring my budding sexuality in secrecy. Hiding the porn magazines and watching my videos late at night when no one else was awake had become tiresome and a bit silly. I had to get out and investigate my sexual options away from prying eyes. My parents took my decision with some trepidation, fearful that I would forfeit my education for the temptation of what seemed like a big paycheck at some menial job. After convincing them that their fears were unfounded, we set out to find me a decent apartment. My savings spent on first and last months' rent and a security deposit, and up to my ears in debt for my sparse furniture, I finally had my own small, one-bedroom apartment several miles away from my parents--but close enough that they could check on me periodically. My father insisted that I give them a key in case of emergency. It seemed only slightly strange to me at the time, but in retrospect, I'm glad he persisted. Dad and I have never had much in common. We were just born different, I suppose. He is a large, very masculine man, had been a star athlete in high school and college. I was always a slim, slightly uncoordinated boy, more interested in reading and music than in sports. Furthermore, the adoration shown to my father by other men was rivaled only by the sexual interest exhibited by almost every woman he ever met. My interest in girls was almost nonexistent, a fact that seemed to worry my mother more than my father, however. Despite our differences, I was very proud of my dad. As I stood in my new apartment, I remembered the first time I realized how much I admired my dad. It happened one night when a group of my friends stayed for a sleep over. We were a rowdy group of about 6 junior high school boys, and made quite a lot of noise, well into the night. My parents had yelled to us several times from their bedroom, warning us to quiet down, but we continued as young boys do. Finally, my father came into the den where we were sleeping to put an end to it. He wore only a tight pair of white briefs, his large chest carpeted with thick, black hair was quite visible in the moonlight from the window. His nipples were erect and I could see that he sported quite a large erection beneath his underwear, explaining his agitation. We all realized, I think, that my parents had been trying to have sex, and our raucous was distracting them. The next day, I expected to be teased incessantly by my friends for what had happened the night before. It's embarrassing enough to discover that your parents still have sex, without having a half dozen friends as witnesses. To my surprise, my friends reacted with envy and awe, apparently impressed by my father's physique. "I wish my dad looked like that," one said. "I hope I look like your dad when I'm a man," said another, "cause my dad's a fat pig compared to that!" I was relieved and proud, and felt a little excitement I wasn't quite able to understand. I was actually getting an erection thinking about my old man standing there half naked in front of six admiring young boys. But rather that being traumatized by these feelings, I was rather amused by the whole thing. Things were different between my dad and me after that episode. I never discussed it with him, of course. But, my change in attitude had alleviated some of the tension between us. Through junior high and high school, I spent as much time with him as possible. I couldn't do the things he loved the most (sports, exercising, or working on old car engines) but I would hang out with him as he did them. I loved my dad; and the truth is, I was falling in love with him. So, here I stood a few years later, in my new apartment, surrounded by about two dozen light brown cardboard boxes, each sporting a label reading "clothes," "books," or some other identifying remark. I had insisted on doing the unpacking alone; one never knows when a renegade porn magazine, video, or other sex-related article might crop up unexpectedly. I dug into the first box, one marked "clothes" and began to sort the various shirts, socks, underwear, or shoes into their places. Determined to get the job finished all at once, I worked well into the night. At about 11:00pm, I was down to the last box. Picking it up, I was surprised to see that it was different from the others. This box was considerably older, and emitted that familiar, bittersweet smell of aged cardboard. Tearing the seal of duct tape from the lid, I turned one fold of cardboard and then another, until the lid was open. This chore had become mundane through repetition over the course of the evening, but suddenly a spark of excitement mixed with shock and embarrassment shot through my body as I focused on the contents. This box was full of porn! And old porn, some of it obviously from the 1960s and before! "My God," I thought, "This is my dad's porn collection!" My mind racing to understand how this box could have ended up here, I couldn't help but sort through the 50 or so magazines, dozens of photos, and seven or eight old-style reels of film. Looking closer at each, I came to a startling realization. This was no ordinary collection of girly mags; my father was in these pictures! There he was, in picture after picture. Sometimes a single photo of him, a young man, chest shaved, and posing in one of those odd positions body builders use to show off their physiques. Other times, it was hard core stuff, showing him in a leather jacket, sporting a goatee and laying on a bed with this woman or that, each giving him pleasure in various ways. To add to my amazement, my father was hung like an elephant. Being largely endowed myself, I knew that his cock had to be at least as big as mine. But I was totally unprepared for this! It must have been 11 inches long and as fat as a soda can! The pained expressions of many of the women offering him a piece of ass indicated that he knew how to use it, too. I was completely stunned. My father was at one time a porn star. The reels of film were by far the most exciting prospect to me. My cock now raging with a hard on, I had to find a projector somewhere. It seemed to me that we had one in my childhood, but the idea of rummaging through my parents' garage at 11:00 at night was not very appealing. That treat would have to wait until another time, that is unless someone came looking for this lost treasure before I had a chance. By midnight, I had sorted the contents into four stacks, each separated according to the approximate age of my father in the pictures. It looked as if he began to do some of the softer stuff in his early teens, and continued until his mid-thirties, well after I was born. Surrounded by pictures of my naked father, I began to get very excited. I had to unbutton my jeans and release my aching cock from its prison of denim. Standing there with my cock out and erect, I just couldn't help it; I had to jack off to these beauties. Photos and magazines littering the floor, I spat into my hand and began to rub my cock. The sensation was incredible, lust mixed with a kind of fearfulness that comes only from knowing that what you're doing is considered wrong. Just as I began to get seriously into my self-satisfaction, I heard a slow creaking sound. It was the front door! Someone was coming in! I rushed over and turned off the light. In the dark, I tried to pick up the incriminating items, but it was too late. The door to my bedroom was opening. It was all over; someone was going to catch me doing the most embarrassing thing imaginable, jacking off to the idea of having sex with my own father. As the door opened completely, gently tapping the wall, I froze with fear and humiliation. "Oh, I see you found it," said a deep, familiar voice. "It suppose you might call it a housewarming present, but I like to think of it as an heirloom," my father's voice rumbled softly. I looked up to see him standing in the doorway, a broad smile spread across his face as he moved toward me. Out of pure reflex reaction, I flinched. "Hey, take it easy, pal," he said soothingly. "I'm not gonna hurt ya. There's no tellin' what else I might do though. That hard cock of yours is turnin' me on somethin' fierce." "What?" I asked. "Why so surprised," he asked. "I think you must know by now how I love sex, all types of sex," he continued. "Oh! You couldn't know, could you? I forgot to pack the projector in there. All those films there, they're copies of the alternative' stuff I've done." I sat on the floor, and covered my crotch in embarrassment. "But don't worry, that's why I'm here. I brought this so your collection would be complete." As he said this, his right arm raised to reveal an old gray reel-to-reel projector. In moments, he had it plugged in and was feeding one of the films into it. Despite its age, it projected onto the wall an almost perfect image of my father in his prime. There was my dad at about 20 years, laying on a brightly colored couch, silently letting a young man of about 17 suck his large cock for all he was worth. I was amazed at how much of this huge piece of meat this kid was able to swallow. Uttering my first words, I sputtered, "How the hell does he do that?" My father chuckled slowly. "I guess he'd had a lot of practice, Son." "It's just so damned big," I replied, forgetting for the moment that I was speaking to my father, and about his own cock! "Well, thanks, kiddo. But I don't think you have anything to be jealous of," he said, looking down at my half-covered erection. We sat there for several minutes, watching the semi-ridiculous plot of this cheap porn film being carried out on my wall. Then, suddenly, the film ran out, the loose end slapping the floor repeatedly. "Well, what did you think," my father asked. "It was incredible," I said honestly. Looking down instinctively at my fathers crotch, I noticed for the first time that he was as excited by the whole thing as I was. Bulging through the material, down the left side of his jeans for at least a foot was an outline of one of the largest cocks I've ever seen, a dark circle of precum the size of a quarter encircling the end. "Would you like to try it for yourself, Son," he asked. I just sat there, staring nervously at this marvel of genetics, wondering what it would feel like throbbing in my hand. Saying nothing more, he reached over and shut off the projector. The room went black for a moment, and as my eyes began to adjust to the dim light coming from the window, I could see my father standing over me, his shirt removed, fiddling with his belt to remove his jeans. For a moment, I was taken back to that evening not long before when he stood lecturing my friends and me in the den. In most respects, he looked exactly the same; his chest was still broad and extremely muscular, the thick black chest fur now sprinkled occasionally with gray hairs, however. I was entranced and dizzy with lust. After removing his pants, my dad reached down and picked me up with ease. Laying me on the bed, he began to caress my body with his large, warm hands. Removing my clothes and throwning them in a pile on the floor with his, he kneeled over me, looking over my young body admiringly. "God, you're sexy, son," he said breathlessly, the sharp smell of beer on his breath. We must have been quite a contrasting pair, laying there in the moonlight. Him, large, muscular and covered with an outline of dark black body hair; me, slender but taught, with an almost hairless swimmer's body. We lay down together each exploring the other's body with hands and mouth. I went almost immediately for his large, erect nipples. As I covered the first with my hot mouth, Dad threw his head back and let out a long, deep moan. Fueled by his ecstasy, he grabbed me by the hair and shoved my face into his hard pec. I sucked and flicked my tongue as fast as I could, amazed by the length of my dad's teat; it was like a small lifeless tongue sliding in and out of my mouth. Wrapping his huge arm around my back and shoulders, and grabbing my head with the other hand, I was suddenly flung up away from the chest I made love to, a hot, slimy tongue now being shoved into my mouth. It was so long I nearly choked on it, but I loved the feeling more than life itself. Warm saliva flowed in waves from my father's mouth into my own. I swallowed it greedily, dazed with excitement. I wanted this violently wonderful embrace to last forever. But my father had other plans. Licking his way down my neck and past the electrically charged skin of my right nipple, dad made his way down to my crotch. Within seconds, my cock was engulfed in the white heat of his mouth and throat. My head reeled. Fantastic visions flashed intermittently through my racing mind, visions of childhood, of tortured nights fantasizing about this or that film star. But these were peripheral desires; my true fantasy was now being realized. I was making love to the only man I had ever truly loved: my own father. As quickly as these hallucinations began, they suddenly stopped. Dad was now standing at the side of the bed and began advancing toward me, his large, erect cock shooting out from his hips like some ridiculously exaggerated illustration of the perfect man. His cock so large it could not stand completely to hold tight against his stomach like so many of the smaller cocks men sport. Gravity had its way with this monstrosity, causing it to curve out and down away from its egg-sized, low hanging balls. Nervously, I opened my mouth and waited. The soft touch of my father's hand slowly caressed my cheek, as the first few inches of his soft, musky cock slid across my lips and into my eager mouth. Another low moan escaped his lips, filling the room and vibrating in my chest. It seemed as if there were no end to the slab of pulsing fuck meat slithering into me, each inch of length gradually accompanied by in increase of at least a half inch of thickness. My mouth and throat were full and bloated with the most private and intimate part of my father's body...and I was in heaven. I was immediately amazed at how much of my dad's cock I was able to swallow without any previous experience. In spite of my amazement, or perhaps because of it, I opened my eyes and looked up at my father. His light blue eyes revealed his bliss, staring down at me with the affection that comes only from a father's love for his son. Slowly, my dad began to pump his hips, sliding at least five inches of his cock past my lips and back down my throat with each full movement. Wanting him to abandon this gentle introductory method, I reached around him with one hand and grasping one of his rock hard butt cheeks, I shoved his hips harder and harder into my face. "Oh, you really like this," he whispered. "You want daddy to fuck your face harder? You got it, bitch!" With this, my dad grasped the back of my head with both hands, and gripping my hair in each fist, rammed his hips with wild abandon into and away from my face. His long ball sack, weighted down by his huge, veiny nuts struck against the outside of my throat with a loud slapping sound, each time accompanied by my dad's primeval grunt. During the entire ordeal, I had been pumping my own large cock, my balls hanging low between my legs, being squeezed by my flexing buttcheeks. "Oh yeah, pal. Pump that cock so daddy can watch you. Be Daddy's little whore tonight. You make Daddy feel so good," my father moaned mindlessly. Finally, it was all we could take. A strange look came over my dad's face, a look of fear and anger, mixed with pain and rapture. Still quite long, his balls rose slightly as the first spasmodic pulses began near the base of his cock. Stopping for a moment in mid thrust and throwing his head back like a wolf ready to howl, his entire body began to tremble. The first surge of cum began pouring down my throat. For a moment I began trying to swallow, but realizing that the position of my dad's cock so far down my throat made this unnecessary, I concentrated on making the event more enjoyable for him. I reached out quickly and took hold of his ball sack, sliding both nuts into my hot mouth with one swift move. With this, my father let out a loud, deep howl of ecstasy. The quantity cum flowing into my belly from this one climax was shocking. I could actually feel it running hot and sticky down my throat and into my chest. With this came the sudden awareness that I was now being filled with the same juices that had helped to create me eighteen years earlier. The very idea made me wild with desire, and I began to shoot hot, white strings of cum onto my face, chest, and torso. Covered with my own jism, and still swallowing my father's, I had reached a state of elation no drug could come close to producing. Relatively quickly, I had spent my load completely, and eventually awakened to the fact that I was still sucking on my father's now-spent, half erect cock. He brushed the light brown hair back from my forehead lovingly and patiently, watching me suckle his cock. Then slowly, he slid his cock out of my mouth and lay on the bed next to me. "I'm all sticky," I protested, as he reached over to cuddle with me. "I don't mind, kiddo. I kinda like it," he answered. We lay together, kissing and caressing each other for several hours before finally falling asleep. I awoke to yet another surprise...but that's another story.