Date: Fri, 2 Jun 2017 12:37:46 +0000 (UTC)
From: a4f101 <a4f101@yahoo.com>
Subject: Every Inch

Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime. You
can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here:
http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/140604306284/

You can also find a whole lot more of my stories here on Nifty - look for
'a4f101' in the Prolific Authors listing.

This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2017. I
own it and all legal rights to it. If you're under the age of majority in
your jurisdiction, please come back when you're of legal age.

Nifty is an incredible free service that depends on your donations to
survive. It changed my life, and maybe it's changed yours too. Please help
them to keep providing this awesome resource for all of us:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

I love hearing from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. Enjoy.

*****

"Nice."

"Yeah? You think so?"

"I do. Damn nice. You're really bulking up."

"Thanks. I've been working real hard on it. We're gonna have two-a-days
this summer, and I wanted to be ready for `em."

"Mission accomplished, bud. You're killing it, way ahead of schedule."

He just beamed at that. Blushed bright red. Fuck, he was cute. I continued
to take in the sight of him, all the hard, fresh-built young muscle packed
tight under the creamy smoothness of his skin. Veins coursing down the pump
of his arms. Big brown nips capping off the plates of his pecs. The blond
tangle of hair where his treasure trail thickened out beneath the tight
definition of his abs, a fan of young man's fur spreading enticingly down
beneath the low-slung waistband of his jeans. Damn, but he was fine. He
watched me quietly as I looked him over, appraising and approving.

"You... you wanna feel `em?" he said after a long minute, all quiet, shy,
but hopeful too. I looked up, met his eyes, smiled.

"Yeah? That something you'd like?" I said. He nodded, blushing. Something
about that, the contrast between the hard-charging young jock he was on the
mats and the football field, and the almost boyishly shy way he was opening
up to me, now it was just him and me, all alone... damn, but it made my
dick twitch.

"Well alright," I said. "Let's see what you got, big guy."

"Really?" he said, and I could hear the mix of nerves and excitement in his
husky young voice. Seemed like it was getting deeper by the day. A little
more of the man he was becoming, every time. There was a different kind of
twinge to that, but I could think on that some other time. Right now, he
was flexing his right bicep up, tight and hard and surprisingly thick, and
I was reaching for it.

"Damn... real nice, buddy," I smiled, running my fingers over the firm
warmth of his flesh, feeling him shiver at my touch, but flex up harder. I
slid my palm over the bulge of the muscle and squeezed it, and he let out
this soft little half-gasp that got to me a little more.

"Wanted to be big and strong," he said, hesitating before going on. "Like
you, Dad."

"Yeah? You like my muscles, buddy?" I grinned at him, even though I knew
the answer to that, had known it for years. Truth be told, my wife thought
I kept my physique up for her... but really, I liked having Jesse's gaze on
me. Liked the way he appraised my body. Liked the tingle it gave me, deep
and low in my gut. I did it for him, worked out four days a week for his
eyes, and ultimately, that meant I did it for me, too.

I did it for this moment. My hands on his hard-pumped young muscles. His
eyes hungrily devouring mine, even fully dressed as I was.

"I do, Dad," he said quietly, blushing even harder, ducking his head and
averting his gaze. I tucked my fingertips under his strong, square chin -
just like mine - and lifted his handsome young face back up.

"You wanna see mine too, bud?" I said, keeping my voice low and deep, a
just-between-us-men voice, and I could practically feel him vibrating with
need. The need to say yes. He nodded.

"You gotta say it, son," I said, eyes locked on his. I'd always taught him
to stand up for himself, to set goals and pursue them. This was a part of
that lesson. He knew it as well as I did.

"I - I want to see you too, Dad," he said, still with that husky
nervousness to his voice, but looking me in the eye, squaring his broad
young shoulders as he said it.

"All you ever had to do was ask, son," I said, with a half-grin, as I let
go of his flexed bicep and reached down to tug my polo shirt up and off.

It's not easy keeping in shape once you hit 40, and I'd known since I was
30 that I'd never have that tight, smooth-skinned musculature of my youth
ever again. I was never going to be an underwear model or anything, but I
liked the way I looked now, thick and solid, my muscles beefier than in my
college days. Seeing Jesse's eyes light up at the sight of my bare chest,
the way he sucked in his breath as he stared at my body, made all the hard
work worthwhile. I'd always enjoyed being looked at - I wasn't obnoxious
about it or anything, but it had always given me a special kind of thrill
to be appraised, admired, even coveted. I think Jesse had inherited that
from me, too. The past year, since he'd gotten through his slightly awkward
physical stage, begun to bulk up and define, growing into the shape of his
future, I'd caught the vibe coming from him. A need to be looked
at. Approved of. Admired, even. Something just between him and
me. Something I'd encouraged.

And now, here we were, after months of dancing around it, building up to
this moment. Him and me, in the house all alone. Down in the finished
basement, where his room was. The bathroom door closed and locked behind
us. Shirts off, gazing at each other, the air full of tense anticipation.

"You can touch me too, if you want, son," I said. "Go ahead."

He got this intensely needy, conflicted look on his handsome young face at
that, and so I took his hand and guided it up to the thick muscles of my
chest. He let out another of those little noises, his touch tentative at
first, and then more assured as he ran his hand over the bulge of my pec as
I flexed it up for him. I reached out to squeeze his other arm, and that
brought his gaze back up to mine. A little stunned, like he couldn't
believe this was finally happening. I couldn't either, honestly, but I'd
gotten us to this point by keeping a cool head and an encouraging attitude,
and I had every intention of letting this all play out the way we both
wanted it to.

"That's nice, bud," I said, smiling encouragingly, as he began to move his
hand over my chest with more assurance, exploring the freedom I was finally
giving him. I trailed my hand up his arm, over his shoulder, sliding down
slowly over his pec as he pushed it up and out for me reflexively. Roamed
over his chest, grinning at the way he sucked in his breath when my thick
fingertips grazed over his nipples, turning them into stiff little peaks of
flesh that just begged to be touched again, and again.

"Ah jeez, Dad," he murmured as I strummed on his tits, pushing my own pecs
up and out like him to encourage him to do the same.

"Feels good, doesn't it, bud," I said, letting out a little grunt as he
started to return the favor on mine. My dick was solidifying nicely inside
my jeans, and I caught the way his eyes flicked down at the growing mound
in the denim from time to time, before returning to the bigness of my pecs,
the stiffness he was creating in my nips.

He had this look on his face when he met my gaze again. A kind of need and
heat mixed up in his eyes. Something on the tip of his tongue that he
couldn't quite get out. But I'd always been able to read him like a book -
sometimes it seemed like my boy was my clone, not just my son - and I had a
very good idea of what it was that he wanted. He startled a little at my
big hand cupping the back of his neck, sliding up into his close-cropped
blond hair, and I could feel the resistance in his muscles when I nudged
his head closer.

"It's OK, big guy," I murmured, pulling him closer. "Relax. It's just you
and me."

I felt his resistance melt away as I guided his handsome face down to my
chest, pushing my pec up a little more, and then his nature took over and
he latched his full lips onto my nip with a hungry, husky moan, one that I
returned at the sensation. I strummed the stiffness of his tit, and he
started to suckle on mine as he whimpered around it.

"Yeah, that's it, son," I half-growled, giving the back of his neck an
encouraging squeeze. "You're wired just like me, stud. I bet you like to
play with these when you stroke your cock too, huh?"

He looked up at me, still nursing hungrily on my nip, and made an
affirmative moan around it.

"I figured as much," I said, eyes locked on his. "Hear you at night
sometimes, working on your cock. Stroking out those loads. Hear you in the
shower in the mornings, too. Wondering what you think about when you handle
yourself. Wondering if we think the same things."

His eyes were big and blue and so intense as they locked on mine, as his
lips and tongue continued to work my tingling nip, like he hoped to get
milk out of it.

"I bet we do think the same things, son," I said, gently pinching his stiff
nip between thumb and forefinger and rubbing it slowly, feeling him quiver
all over. "Thinking about muscles... ours... each other's... that get you
as hard as it does me, stud?"

I released his nip and grazed my fingers down the tight, rippling muscles
of his abdomen, feeling him tense them up into even harder mounds for my
inspection and appreciation. Stroked my way down into the crisp young hair
below his bellybutton, then let my fingertips graze against his skin there
for a moment, before slipping down to glance over the big bulge in his
jeans. He was hard as steel, big and erect in his Levi's, and that and his
hungry work on my nip got me all the way hard too.

"Tell me what gets you hard, son," I said, in that quietly commanding tone
that always got him stepping to attention.

"You do, Dad," he said when he came off my nip, licking his full lips
deliciously. "Your muscles... your voice... your fur... all of you..."

"Good boy," I said with a slow grin. "I'm glad to hear it. Because you know
something?"

I guided his hand to the straining bulge in my own jeans, feeling my cock
sizzle with electric fire as his fingers found the shape of my paternal
cock. Tentatively at first, then with more assurance, as he finally got to
touch me the way I'd suspected he'd always wanted to.

"Thinking about you makes me hard too, son," I continued, and when he let
out a hungry little whimper-moan and lunged up to kiss me, I let him do
it. He was overheated and clumsy for it at first, but that fell away as I
started to kiss him back, the two of us palming each other's bulges slowly,
appreciatively, as I licked along his parted lips and opened them up for my
tongue. He took it with a grateful noise, and I moaned right into his mouth
as I tasted him for the first time, all warm and moist, his spit flowing as
he sucked hard on my tongue and pulled it deeper into him. My boy could
kiss, not that I'd ever doubted that for a second. He was every inch his
father's son, after all.

"We gonna show each other some more, bud?" I asked when we came up out of
the kiss a few minutes later, still groping each other's thick cockbulges.

"Yeah? You wanna see me like that, Dad?" he said, still with that boyish
mix of enthusiasm and disbelief, but now a kind of knowing sparkle in his
eyes too.

"Only if you want to show me, son," I said.

He stepped back a little, his hands moving to the button at his
waistband. Then slowly, teasingly, he popped it and the next two buttons of
his fly, exposing the thicker curls of his blond bush, and a glimpse of the
fat base of his cock. Oh yeah. He was every inch his father's son, alright.

"Glad you don't trim, bud," I said, reaching over to stroke my fingers
through his bush, feeling him shiver again. He bit his lip at the
sensation, but locked eyes with me again.

"Nah, don't really need to," he said matter-of-factly. "That's for insecure
guys. I'm pretty big."

"Yeah, that so, son?" I grinned, loving how confident he was getting. How
he was owning his young studliness. He shot me a half-grin that was like a
mirror of mine, and slowly nodded as he popped another button, and exposed
even more of the thick flesh of his big, hard young cock.

"Yeah," he said. "I've heard some of the guys in the locker room say so. I
always figured I take after you like that. Do I, Dad?"

"You show me yours, and I'll show you mine," I said with a grin, running my
knuckles through the warm hair above the base of his cock. He shivered a
little, then took hold of both sides of his fly and popped it open. Slow,
button by button, the sound of each one unsnapping loud as a gunshot in the
little bathroom. His cock was all caught up, and he reached in to free it,
and there it was. One hell of a nice cock on him - thick and veiny, a solid
young American dick. Not super-long, but very handsome. Girthy. The kind of
cock made to have a hand wrapped round it. He dug his hand around inside
his jeans a little more and freed his balls too, and there he was - one
hell of a package. I let out a low, appreciative whistle at the sight of
him, especially his big, heavy-hanging balls.

"What do you think?" he said with that confident little half-grin, which
turned into a surprised grunt and moan as I reached between us to cup his
big sac in the palm of my hand.

"I think you're all man, stud," I growled, low and deep. "All man, just
like me."

With my other hand, I slowly unsnapped my own jeans, watching him watch me
do it. Like him, I was freeballing. I guess we'd both known this was
coming. Both on the same wavelength. I watched his eyes widen as I hauled
my own big, hard cock out, showing it off to him deliberately for the first
time ever. Not letting him see it for the first time, because I knew he'd
been creeping on me a little over the years, peeking around my bathroom
door when he thought I didn't know he was there. Maybe I'd spent more time
in the shower, slowly soaping my piece up, or letting it hang while I dried
my hair, knowing he was watching. Hell, it was natural curiosity, one all
boys have about their dads. I sure had, about mine.

But this was the first time really showing it to him, allowing him to size
me up openly, to admire the big cock I'd created him with. The big cock I
stroked, thinking about moments just like this one. Proudly showing my son
my big cock, for his lusty admiration.

"Oh damn," he half-whispered, his hand slowly reaching across the space
between us, drawn in by it. The way mine had been, the first time my father
had let me inspect him up close like this.

"Go ahead, bud," I murmured, squeezing the back of his neck encouragingly,
and with a quick look up at me, he wrapped his hand around it, making both
of us moan.

"That's the cock I made you with, son," I murmured against his ear, and
when he turned his face up to me, that hungry look in his eyes, our kiss
was deep and intense and immediate. I felt him shiver and moan into me as I
reached for his big young dick, grunting with satisfaction at the heat and
heft of it, running my big hand over the girth of him, up to the thick
head, then back down to cup his hefty young balls. I remembered the
approving, appreciative way my Dad had done the same to me when I was about
Jesse's age - a little younger, truth be told - and how good it felt to be
so approvingly sized up and compared with my own father.

Our hands explored each other's cockflesh while our tongues danced, deep
and intent, and when I grazed my palm over his cockhead, I found him
already starting to leak. Yeah, every inch his father's son, alright, and I
know I was starting to juice his palm too, as our first exploration evolved
naturally into a slow stroke. With my free hand, I reached around behind
him to the muscles he hadn't shown off to me yet, and I pushed his jeans
down under the fine, muscular curves of his ass, before I ran my hand up
over them. Hell of an ass on him, one I'd been enjoying the sight of in his
uniforms for awhile now. He looked especially good in his wrestling
singlet, the high, tight curves of his athlete's ass the perfect
counterpoint to the hefty bulge that always tented the tight, stretchy gear
in front. I could feel his glutes flexing up for me reflexively, and when I
grazed my fingertips down his cleft, he moaned deeply around my tongue and
sucked even harder on it, giving my big dick a slow, wrist-swirling stroke
for good measure.

"You getting this big cock sucked right, son?" I murmured against his lips
after several intensely enjoyable minutes of tongue-wrangling. "You
slipping this big piece to anybody yet?"

"Not yet," he said, letting out a gasp as I repaid his corkscrew stroke
with one of my own. "Not fucking. Some other stuff..."

"Who you sharing your big dick with, buddy?" I murmured.

"Melissa Toscano... April Bryant... Joey Pruitt... Kade Martinez..."

Hell, Joey Pruitt was his best bud, built like a beefy little fireplug,
with an ass I'd often fantasized about getting all up inside of. Guess I
knew what they were probably getting up to when they slept over at each
other's house. The image of the hot little Pruitt stud slurping his way up
and down my boy's fat piece sent another deep throb the length of my dick.

"Nice, stud," I grinned, with genuine pride. "No rush to fuck. Plenty else
to explore before that. Which you like better - the girls or the guys doing
it?"

Jesse blushed hard, but shrugged. I guess there's no avoiding the truth
when you and your own father are handling each other's hard cocks and
swapping tongues, is there? I'd been there before. I knew how it went. How
good it felt to talk like this, man to man, about the things men did.

"The guys, so far," he said. "Guess I need more experience to decide."

"Can't have too much experience," I said, then fed him my tongue again as I
pulled him in close, cock to cock, my hand stroking over the flex of his
powerful young jock's ass. I was maneuvering him around without him knowing
it, as he moaned into my mouth at the sensation of our cocks throbbing
together. I shifted back a little, checked over my shoulder to make sure
the toilet lid was down, then parked my ass on it, looking up at him with a
wink and a grin. He stared down at me, lusty but a little confused too, as
I pushed his jeans the rest of the way down his strong young thighs, then
stroked my hands up and down them appreciatively. Damn, he looked even
better from this angle, all rippling with hard young muscle, that big dick
and hefty ballsac dominating the view. I leaned in and took a whiff of him,
catching his natural, fresh-out-of-the-shower musk, feeling my mouth water
a little at that old, familiar scent.

"In my experience," I said, taking his cock in hand and stroking a bead of
precum from his slit, "it's nice when a girl does it... but much better
when a guy takes care of you, son."

He opened his mouth as if to say something, still frowning a little, but
that just turned into a low, husky moan as I opened my mouth, lashed my
tongue around the underside of his salty cockhead, then summoned up every
ounce of cocksucking skill I had and slowly swallowed my son to the root.

Fuck, he tasted good, even better than I'd fantasized he would, as I worked
my lips and tongue down the thick, veiny length of him. I kept one hand
wrapped round the base of his big young dick to keep him in place, and once
I'd worked my way far enough down, I shifted it to cup his hefty young
balls, palming them slowly and carefully as his moans vibrated through his
core.

"Aw fuck, Dad!" he groaned, his hands coming down to brace my head as it
sank further down his bigness. I took my time getting there, but once my
nose was buried in his full blond bush, I looked up to lock eyes with him,
seeing him staring down at me with an intense mix of wonder and love. I
winked up at him and let out a low, long hum all around him, watching his
eyelids flutter a little, feeling the flex in his hard young thigh as he
went up on his toes at the sensation of it.

"You're sucking my cock..." he moaned, like he couldn't quite believe this
was really happening. But it sure was, and as much as he was enjoying it, I
was loving it even more. The taste of him, the smell of him, the way he
throbbed all hot and hard inside my mouth, poking at the back of my
throat. It took me back, to all the cocks I'd sucked over the years, how
much I'd loved not just the act of giving head, but the head-trip aspect of
it too - being a big, manly, hard-charging kind of a guy who happened to
love sucking another guy's cock.

I gave him my best, working the length of him over, from root to tip, my
lips tight around his girth while my tongue laved the steely flesh of his
hardness. One hand caressed the bigness of his balls, feeling them steadily
tightening, while the other explored the fine hardness of his ass, down
into the lightly furred depths of his cleft, my fingertip searching for the
knot of muscle buried deep down there. Jesse shifted, working with me,
propping one foot up on the side of the tub next to us, giving me even
freer reign over his nether regions, allowing me to find and stroke his
bud, pulsing and tight. I looked up at him, then offered him the finger I'd
been stroking him with, He looked at it for just a second, getting it
almost immediately, as he parted his lips and slowly sucked on the
thickness of my digit, his eyes on mine the whole time. That made me throb
doubletime, and I was glad I had my hands occupied, so I couldn't touch my
own cock and bring a premature end to this.

Good thing the rest of the family was out, because the way Jesse moaned
when I pushed up on that little ring of tight muscle, sliding my
spit-slicked finger slowly inside of him, there could be no doubt what we
were doing down here in his bathroom. His voice was surprisingly deep and
husky, the sound of a man being pleasured, as I worked my way up inside of
his ass, and worked my way around his throbbing, leaking cock at the same
time. It was different from the barely stifled moans he made while he was
jacking off, when he thought he was alone, when he didn't know his own
father was listening, and stroking along with him. My boy really was all
grown up now, and it made me proud and wistful and even hornier for him
than ever before.

When I found the pulse of his prostate, Jesse clutched my head even tighter
in his hands, and my mouth filled even more with the taste of his precum as
I stroked his G-spot intently. The first time my Dad had showed me my spot,
I'd been sprawled out against his big chest, my thighs spread wide over his
as he jacked me with one hand and fingerfucked me with the other, his
stubbly jaw rubbing along mine as he murmured low and deep in my ear and
told me all about being a man. Told me, and showed me. So this was a little
bit of a different experience for Jesse, but we'd have plenty of time for
other experiences later. This was something both of us wanted, right
now. The feel of my lips and tongue on his cock, the taste of his precum
flooding my mouth, the urgent pulsing of his insides around my finger as I
stroked his pleasure zone over and over.

No way he could last too long, not with his senses being assaulted on all
sides like I was doing. That was good - always better to take a young
stud's first, easy load quick, so you can focus on taking your time with
the second round. I knew my boy had plenty to give, over and over. He was
made in my image, after all. I knew all about him, in a way nobody else
ever would, and that was powerful as hell, that realization. Now I knew
what my own father had felt when we'd first started fooling around, and why
he'd been so insistent that I have a son of my own. So I could know this. I
loved him even harder for all of that now, as I coaxed my firstborn right
up to the brink, stroking and slurping and sucking, pulling the thick wads
of fresh young cum up out of his big, churning balls. Up the thick length
of his vein-ridged cockshaft, to the throbbing, oozing head of his
man-sized dick.

Then, with a choked moan, I felt him tighten around me, his cock throbbing
doubletime against my lips and tongue, his eyes locked on mine, all big and
starey and kind of faraway.

"Gonna cum, Dad!" he gasped, and just like that, he was doing it. Spurt
after spurt of thick, hot, salty seed, acrid and mineral as it seared
across my tongue and the roof of my mouth, slipping down my throat as I
sucked and swallowed, trying to get every last drop of him, his first
cumload for me. He went up on the balls of his feet, his quads bulging long
and thick and hard, his ass as hard and tight as a statue, as he clutched
my head in his hands and fed me.

"Holy shit," he gasped when I finally released him, his fine young muscles
still quivering and twitching as he leaned against the vanity, one hand
clutching my shoulder. I pulled his handsome face to mine, all flushed and
aglow with sweat, pressing my cum-sticky lips to his. At the first taste of
his own seed in my mouth, he grunted, almost sounding confused, but then
his lips parted and his tongue lashed against mine, moaning as he tasted
himself on my flesh. I pulled him halfway down onto my lap as we took it
deep and wet, sharing him in our spit, mixing and trading it, until there
was nothing more left.

"Jeez Dad," he said, our foreheads resting together as he straddled my
thighs. "That was... amazing..."

"Sure was, son," I grinned, pecking his lips slowly. "You taste even better
than I've been imagining."

He reached down between us, taking my still steel-hard cock in his hand
carefully.

"You've been imagining that, huh Dad?" he said, almost shyly. "I've been
imagining things too, y'know?"

"Yeah, I bet you have, son," said, running my hands up and down his thighs.
"All kinds of things, I'll bet."

"Oh yeah," he grinned, slipping up and back off my lap, sinking to his
knees on the floor before me, sliding his hands up and down my big, hairy
thighs, slowly pushing them wide. I could see his eyes flicking between my
face and the big, leaking arc of my cock. The cock I'd made him with.

"Can I... show you what I've been thinking of, Dad?" he said, reaching up
to take my cock in hand and stroke it slowly.

"All you ever had to do was ask, son," I said again, with a proud grin that
turned into a low, long moan as my son licked his lips, opened wide, and
showed me exactly what he'd been thinking of, when he thought about his
Dad.