Date: Mon, 24 Aug 2015 15:07:42 +0000 (UTC) From: a4f101@yahoo.com Subject: Maturity Greetings, dudes. Been stroking my dick to the amazing stories on Nifty since 1999, so I figured it was about time to do my part. I've been writing dirty family stories on my Tumblr – a4f101.tumblr.com – for a few months now, and I'm sharing them here with you too. There's more there, too – more stories, from me and my likeminded buds – so come check it out. Hit the Story Time link at the top for more than 250 dirty tales, all by me, with the pics that inspired them. You can see this story, and the pic that inspired it, here: http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/110003387364/ This story is an original work of fiction, copyright me 2015. I own it, and all legal rights to it. If you're not of legal age in your jurisdiction to be reading it, do us both a favor and come back to it when you are. Love to hear from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. And hey – Nifty is an incredible, free resource. Changed my life, and probably did the same for you, this amazing treasure-trove of fantasies. If you can, please support them with a donation – even just a few bucks. Nobody pays for porn anymore, sure, and that's why we keep losing incredible resources like Handjobs Magazine. Don't let the Nifty Archive be another. Somewhere out there, a kid is just discovering this site. Having his world rocked, and his dick raised. You and me, we were kids like that, once. Let's keep it going, for them and for us. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ***** When I told him he'd turned into a fine silver fox, he just laughed, but I could tell he was pleased. "So that's the term for `old fuck' now, huh?" he chuckled, but I saw him checking himself out in the big bedroom mirror. How his thick blond hair had turned grey on his head and face, and a mix of blond and silver all over his firm, muscular body. He looked fine, fine as fuck, more proof of that old saying about how us men just improve as we get older. "Shut up with that kind of talk," I laughed, getting up from the bed, as naked as him, and padding over to wrap my arms around him from behind. Noting how my body had changed as I got older, in my early 30s now, thicker, more rugged, stronger, furrier than before. I wasn't to everyone's taste, and the change from the muscular, clean-cut young man I'd been when he and I had begun this long, intense, passionate affair was striking. But I was very much to his taste, and he proved it to me daily. Often, multiple times a day. I loved him, he was my man, and that only strengthened between us as we grew older and our bodies changed. He felt the stir of my big, thick cock against his high, muscular ass, fur-coated and just as handsome as ever. I kissed his shoulder, feeling the tickle of those masculine hairs against my lips, in my cropped beard, and our eyes met. Sure, the wrinkles around them crinkled deeper for each other when we smiled, but that went with the territory. What hadn't changed was the searing sexual heat between us, the intensity of our long, spit-dripping kisses, the way our big rugged hands explored each other's muscles and fur and cocks. We were men, unquestionably men now, in our prime together. He turned around and took me in his arms, and his kiss was beautiful. Searching, wet, deep, intense. Paternal and erotic, the way I loved it best. Kissing my father had been my greatest pleasure since I was 16, kissing like men do. It felt like I'd grown into a man in his arms, in his bed - in our bed now, ever since the divorce a decade ago. Our bed, our home, our love as father and son. I could see the heat in his eyes still, as he stepped back a little and ran the flat of his hand over the thick, solid muscles of my stomach, over my manly fur, down to my bush teasingly, then up to my big pecs. "All fucking man, baby boy," he growled. "Beautiful piece of furred-up stud beef, Son. Fuck you're sexy." I growled back at him, a deep, animalistic sound, as I returned the favor, digging my fingers into the thick, blond-grey fur of his body. Felt the hard plates of muscle. The fur that had grazed my bare skin for the better part of two decades now, and still made my skin tingle even when we were apart. Our beards rubbed together as we came in for another hard, wet kiss, and I could feel the drips of our mixed spit slowly falling into the thick fur of our chests. Our big, hard cocks ground wetly, hotly together, and the way his big hand pawed at my thick, rounded muscle ass made me throb all over for him. "Sexy like you, Dad," I moaned. "Big, furry sexy father. All man. Fucking with your own son, like the hot fucking stud you are. Making your boy cum for you. Cum all up in this fur you got. The fur you passed down to me." Man, he loved the dirty talk between us, just like I did. Our phone sex was dynamite, intense and taboo and hot enough to make us both cum, even hundreds or thousands of miles apart. But the real sex was the best thing, in our home together, father and son, pawing and kissing and spitting and licking and growling. Loving. Sweet and sensual, and hot and sweaty and animal, all at once. The taboo and the tender. Father and son. Yeah, he'd just cum not so long ago, but he was raring to go, even at his age. No little blue pills required - what we had was more than enough, he'd said, repeatedly, proudly. And as he sank that big, bare father cock into my ass, parting my fur-lined cheeks and filling me deliciously, he proved yet again that real love, real sexual passion transcends age. That there is nothing better than a man, a father, in his prime.