Date: Mon, 12 Jun 2017 18:01:33 +0000 (UTC) From: M Coello Subject: "Hayden the Skater Gets With His Dad" (incest/younger-older/teen) Hayden the Skater Gets with His Dad by kooldoggie So I'm in a pretty messed-up situation, to other people it's that way, I guess, but my Dad and I are actually pretty happy, though to others it might seem pretty sick. But maybe some background would help explain, so here's the deal... My name's Hayden, and I just turned 15 a few weeks ago. I'm already a well-built six-feet-tall and think I'm pretty ripped. I've spent my whole childhood skating and surfing, so yeah. I'm in great shape. Now, my Dad, Dane is his name, and he's still only 29-years-old for a few months yet. Pretty weird, huh? The story is that when he hit puberty, he was a wild, horny young skaterboy, his hormones kicking in so hard that he just needed to get off with someone. That someone happened to be my own Mom, a skatergirl who hung with their group. Well, Dane and her did the nasty, and nine months later I was born, my parents still only 14-years-old. It was the scandal of the neighborhood, my Mom's "pro-life" parents refusing to let her have an abortion, like she wanted, but when I was born they wanted nothing to do with this constant reminder of what they sort of considered the rape of their daughter Ð though apparently it was all consensual between the two kids Ð still pretty fucked-up. So I got dumped on Dane and my grandparents, Mom and her family moving to some undisclosed place where they could start over with a clean slate. So, yeah, I never even knew my own Mom. Now my Dad Dane, though still just a young kid, felt totally guilty about how this all went down and promised his parents he would do his best to raise me right. He refused to give me up for adoption, which everyone advised, his parents arguing that having a baby in the house would make things hard on all of them. But Dad convinced them he could take care of me and yet still focus on school and getting into a good college. Yeah, unfortunately that didn't go as planned either. And I feel pretty guilty about that, even years later. I guess I kind of feel I ruined my own Dad's life in a way, since he was always there to help me learn to walk, talk and all that shit, keeping me from running into the street and killing my stupid self, so he was always getting distracted from his schoolwork and barely graduated. It was community college for him then, and my Dad's not a dumb guy at all, just had too much to deal with is all. After a while, he just decided to drop out and give up; he already had a job at the local skate shop, selling and repairing boards, barely making ends meet, but somehow we got along all right. By this time, even his own parents had given up on Dane, thinking it was only right my Dad should take on the bulk of the job raising the result of his own idiocy. They wound up moving to another town when I was so young I barely remember them, so yeah, it's really only been my Dad and me, and I respect the hell out of him for being the only constant in my life and never giving up on me. As young as he was, he never acted like the typical Dad; remember, he was still a teenager until I was almost six-years-old! So he was more like an older brother to me, and he taught me to skate like him, go out in the surf with him; we even smoked pot together the first time he thought I was old enough, which was like 10. Oh, and I almost forgot one important fact, actually two: Dane's actually gay, like homosexual queer! He learned that not too long after he impregnated my Mom, that he really hadn't enjoyed the experience at all and his sexuality still had been unformed and was still developing. Even before I was born, he had his first experience with another dude, one of his skater buddies, and discovered that was for him. He couldn't date much while I was just a little kid; he just had too much going on, but as soon as we got our own place after Dad got kicked out of my grandparents', there were a few boyfriends I remember, usually some bisexual surfer or skater type like Dad, none lasting much longer than a few months, but I can't remember one I didn't like. Most of them were pretty nice to me and tried to treat me like another Dad, but my real Dad couldn't find anything long-term with them. I guess I blame myself for that as well. Then, as I got older, I discovered I probably was gay as well. I had zero interest in girls as anything more than friends. When I broke it to my Dad, it seemed he blamed himself, but I told him not to worry; I don't think anything I saw growing up influenced me like that, and it's supposed to be genetic anyway. Hey, at least now we could talk about hot guys together! Now I'd say my Dad is "hot", though I know I probably shouldn't think that. And being his son, and looking pretty much like a bit younger version of him with some of my Mom's Italian good looks as well, I qualify as "hot" too. Dane has typical surfer good looks, tall at 6'2", firm, ripped, lithe muscle from all the boarding we do, deep dark tan, totally blonde killer features and large, beautiful blue eyes, his thick, long hair in these cool dreadlocks almost as long as I can remember; I sort of remember when he just had shoulder-length straight hair back when I was three or four, but the dreads have been his signature style ever since then. He's got only the faintest of age lines under those blue eyes, which you can see only if you look close, and most people think he's still only 17 or 18, taking us for brothers, and my Dad just shrugs and lets them think that. He doesn't want any trouble from people who judge. I'm almost the same as him, though a couple of inches shorter at six-feet and a few pounds lighter. I keep my dark-blonde/light brown hair wavy and hitting my shoulders, and my tan is a bit more olive in hue due to my Italian roots. But I still got my Dad's blue eyes. I've got a piercing in one eyebrow and also have some diamond studs in my ears. My Dad's going to take me to get a snakebite piercing for my lip in a couple of weeks, and he says he might get one too while we're there. He just doesn't want to grow up, and I think that's pretty cool. We live in a two-bedroom small apartment on the second floor of a duplex near the beach, the only place I've called home since I was four. Ever since then, we've always kind of been on the edge here, nearly getting kicked out at least twice each year because Dad has trouble paying the rent, but he always manages to pull through at the last minute. Again, I kind of feel it's my fault for having tripped him up from getting into a good college, but we both hold guilt for those reasons I already stated above. So the trouble started this one day I came home from school, shortly after I turned 15, to find my Dad in the kitchen, crying like a little kid. I put my skateboard in the corner by the door and kicked off my thongs; like most young guys in this beach town, we like going barefoot as often as we can; so does my Dad. He has those awesome, long, tanned feet perfect for all sorts of boarding, and I kind of admired them now, the toes flexing on the kitchen floor as my Dad sat at the breakfast table, his sobbing, dreadlocked head in his long tan hands. I don't think I'd ever seen him that upset. I went to comfort him and put my arms around him, and he showed me his watery blue eyes and sobbed, "Aww, Hayden, dude, Tay left me!" I couldn't believe it. His latest boyfriend, Taylen, had been with him nearly a year, and I thought this one might stay. Like all of Dane's boys, he was totally cool to me, and we hung out together like brothers even when my Dad wasn't around; I liked him a lot, maybe because he was actually closer to my age than my Dad's at only 21. Hey, if it hadn't been illegal, maybe I would have grabbed him! Taylen was a great-looking surfer boy with tousled wheat-blonde hair, fun-loving and bright. I couldn't imagine what could have driven them apart, but I wasn't going to make things worse by having Dad tell me everything, unless he really wanted to. "Aww, Daddy, I'm sorry. It's his loss, k?" is all I could say as I sat next to him, holding his hand. It wasn't weird for me to call him Daddy, though I tended not to do that since I was a way younger kid. I still did sometimes, though, often ironically, but it also fit when we were being real with each other, and I wanted to remind him I was still his little boy who's been proud of his hard-working Daddy since like forever! I put my bare feet on top of his, both our feet a pretty big size 12, and Dane liked when I did that. It was just sort of a bonding thing, you know? Dad sobbed a little less and rested his head on my bare shoulder Ð I was wearing a tight muscle shirt Ð and I put my own head on his sweet-smelling dreads; he always made sure they were fresh washed and looking awesome. And I was feeling sort of weird, but also sort of warm, like the whole world was just perfect right now... It brought to mind an episode with Dad and Taylen from just a few weeks earlier, though at the time I didn't see how it related at all, and the whole thing had made me feel weird. Tay, Dad and I often hung out together. Date nights for them usually consisted of just coming over, having dinner and watching a movie on TV; we were like a young family of gay brothers. Dad and Tay had been drinking some beers, and Dane let me have one; he'd been letting me drink since I was 13. Both of them were on the couch, while I took the big chair next to the couch, and soon enough the two surfer-skater boys were making out, pretty heavily. I was totally used to this. As liberal a house as we had, there was pretty much nothing I hadn't seen, nothing too graphic, but I was used to sex noises and making out in front of me was no big deal. I hadn't been in a relationship myself yet, just had a few blow-jobs, gave a few as well, but I didn't feel ready to go all the way yet. Still, beer tended to make me a little horny with the buzz, and I slipped my hands into my boardshorts and masturbated a little as I stole glances of the two hot blonde boys across from me, one of which just happened to be my own Dad, getting hot and heavy, Dad reaching into Tay's shorts to masturbate him. It was at that moment, while kissing his boyfriend, that Dad looked up at me with those gentle blue eyes of his. I didn't freeze, just continued to slowly massage my hard-on; the understanding of sexuality between me and Dad was that cool. But his eyes looked different this time, almost predatory, like he wanted something from me, and I thought for a split-second he was going to ask me to join in and have my way with Tay as well, or maybe even with him! I don't know why I thought that, but the moment passed, and Dad dropped his attention back to the surfer boy under him. By this time I was feeling pretty moist, and I knew I was going to be needing some release soon. I mumbled some excuse and took myself to my room, where I jacked it as I listened to the two older but still young men in the living room go even further now that I was gone, and I knew Taylen was getting plowed by my Dad. I came violently, trying not to make that high-pitched noise I tended to when I found release, stuffing my fist into my mouth. That had been great, and a few minutes later Dad came to my room, still panting a bit, sweat pouring down his golden, hairless lithe chest, and asked if I was ok. I just nodded and said I was cool and not to worry, and Dad said he and Tay were going to bed now. He blew me a kiss, just like he did when I was little, and I pretended to grab it. I don't know why I thought of that at this moment, but I was feeling kind of the same horniness I did that night, though I knew it was totally inappropriate given the situation, but still, I had the weird feeling something was about to happen... TO BE CONTINUED...