Date: Tue, 3 May 2011 17:31:23 -0700 From: trip carver Subject: Me and Shawn and Dad, chap. 4 Please note, all the characters in this story are fictional. All rights to this work of fiction, or any parts of it, belong to the author. No use other than what is specified on Nifty is permitted without express permission. Comments and plot suggestions are gladly welcomed. Please send them to me at "tripcarver@hotmailcom" I hope you enjoy my story, I had a blast writing it. Chapter 4 picks up where chapter 3 left off. Dad has just asked Shawn to help him out, down behind Trip. Both the boys are naked. Dad's about to do something to Trip, probably to his ass. Guess we're about to find out what . . . "Me and Shawn and Dad." Chapter 4 - - - "Your brother's got a nice ass, don'tcha think?," Dad asked Shawn, as he was getting into place behind me. "Uh yeah sure, I guess so, Shawn said, answering Dad's question. "I mean, I never thought about it before. Never looked at it before, especially not so close up." "Trip, son, bend over the counter, spread your legs a little, hold onto the counter, around the sink." I do what Dad asks, bending over, spreading my legs, my boy ball sack hanging down just a little, free, between my legs. Actually, it feels like, kinda, I dunno, sexy or somethin'. "Yeah, that's the way son. Nice. Nice definition, cheeks full, getting full and round, and that peach fuzz just starting to cover it over. Looks really good to me," Dad said, kinda trance-like, now squeezing my boy butt-cheeks. "Dad, what didja need me for?," Shawn asks, breaking Dad's trance. "Oh. Yeah," Dad says. "Yeah, I want you to hold his butt-cheeks one in each hand, and pull them gently away from each other. I need to check out Trip's hole," Dad responded very seriously. "Trip's hole? Huh?" "His butt-hole, his asshole," Dad said, matter-of-factly. "You wanna check out his shit hole?" Shawn asked incredulously. "Gotta make sure it's coming along right. If a man's butt and butt hole aren't right, it'll mess up everything else." Dad sounded almost like a doctor would be explaining some important medical thing. He was still squeezing and caressing my boy butt-cheeks. "Well, ok I guess." I felt Shawn's hands take over for Dad's on my ass, and he started to pull my cheeks apart, showing Dad my hole. "That's the way, gently, just enough for me to get in there," Dad said instructively to Shawn. "To get in there?" That was me, my voice rising. What does that mean, `to get in there?' In where? In my ass? In my hole? Is Dad gonna. . . "Whoa, Trip, just gonna take a look. And a feel." And with that, I feel Dad's finger - probably his fuck-finger - starting up at the top of my ass crack, slowly making its way down my crack, getting closer, closer, closer... "Shit!" I almost scream, as his finger touches my hole. But he doesn't just touch it, he rubs all around it, kinda massaging it, round and round. I could feel Shawn's breath on my cheeks, he must be real close, trying to get a good look at my little asshole. For a second, Dad's finger isn't there anymore, but then it is again, wet now. More rubbing, circling, right around my boy hole. "You're not going inside me, are you Dad?" I ask, not knowing what I want him to say. Scared shitless he'd try to finger-fuck me, panting at the idea he might. "Well, son, that depends. Do ya want me to?" "Uh, yeah. No. Wait, no, no. Yeah, keep going Dad. No wait!" Fuck! I don't know what I want. Having your Dad stick his finger up your ass seemed so, well, fuckin' weird, but it was feeling really good so far, all he was doing. "It's ok Trip, I'll just go in, just a touch, and you let me know if you want more. That ok?" Again, sounding all doctor-like. "Uh, ok, Dad, just a touch." And with that I feel nothing on my hole for a second. Then I hear the sound of Dad wetting his finger again, and then.. "Ready son, here we go. Ready? "Yeah Dad." I feel his wet finger on my hole again, pushing now, a little, pushing harder, rubbing round and round, a little pushing. "Son..." "Yeah Dad?" "Breathe son. Inhale, exhale, breathe in, out, in, out.. Yeah, that's better, just like that." I'm taking big breaths in through my clenched teeth, waiting. "And son, relax. Un-clench your teeth, let your arms relax, relax your gut, your butt." Doctor Dad again. "That's better. Good, son." "Daaaaad!" I practically scream as I feel his finger break through, go inside my hole. Inside my ass. Inside of me. Fuck, Dad's finger's inside my ass! He starts twisting it around, and pulling it out, and pushing it in, and holy shit! He's fucking me with his finger. He keeps it up - fuck in, twist around, fuck out, fuck in, twist around, fuck out, and he keeps going, but real slow. "Dad?" "Yeah son, what is it?," not slowing down or anything, still rhythmically finger-fucking my hole, real slow. "Dad, what you're doing. . ." "Yes Trip, what about it?," like he was just messing around with my hair or something instead of fucking my ass with his finger. But he doesn't stop. "Dad, what you're doing, it like feels reeeeeeeeally good. Could ya maybe go a little faster?" "Sure thing son, glad ya like it." And he goes a little faster, and just when he pulls out the next time, right then I start shooting. Boy juice shooting out of my dick, without me even touching it! Probably the biggest load of my young life, all over the bathroom counter, on the doors, onto the floor. And I'm like quivering, like I was cold or something, but I'm not. More and more gunk shooting out of me, almost like my dick can't stop. And feeling something different, my asshole like squeezing down on Dad's finger. Finally, my dick stops squirting. And Dad stops too. "Fuck, Trip, you just shot another fuckin' load." Shawn, master of the obvious. "Ok son, you ok?" "Yeah Dad," panting, still shaking a little. "That was quite something son." "Yeah, guess it was. Yeah," starting to come down, stopping the shaking, catching my breath. Dad's finger is still up my ass. "Dad?" I asked, looking into the mirror, seeing his face peering around my ass. "Yeah son, what is it? "Dad, could ya take your finger out of my ass now?" "Sure son. Nice and slow." And I feel his finger pulling out of my ass hole, I can feel my hole like closing up where the finger was, and ya know, it feels, odd, weird now. Like empty. "Chris? Boys?" Mom, from downstairs. Talk about fuckin' timing! "Yeah honey? What is it? I'm up here with the boys," Dad calls out, getting up from behind me. "Well, what are you doing? It's almost dinner time, and it's Trip's turn to set the table. Send him down. What are you doing anyway?" Mom can be so nosey. "Oh, you know, guy stuff," Dad shouts down to Mom. He looks at me, at Shawn. I look at him, then at Shawn. We try real hard not to break out laughing. "We'll be right down, dear. I'll send the boys right down," Dad shouts out to Mom. "Ok boys, we gotta get cleaned up, and get down for dinner. Trip..." Dad starts to say when Shawn interrupts. "Dad?" "Yeah Shawn," he says as he turns towards him. I turn around too, to see what's up. I notice Shawn looking down, so I look down too, and then I see it, and Dad sees it too. Shawn looks up at Dad. "Well, Dad, I uh, ya, know, well, uh, took care of Trip before. And then just now you, you, and Trip, well, ya know. And I was wondering..." Yeah, Shawn's dick is still hard, curving up, towards his belly, and damn, there's a drop of dick juice at the tip. We all see it. ". . . what about me?" Shawn's kinda stroking his dick, up, down, up, down. "Well, son, we'll take care of that after dinner. Can you hold off till then?" "Yeah, I guess so." He never sounded so let down. He takes his hand away, and his dick kinda jumps. Guess it likes the stroking. Dad looks at Shawn, all serious like again, doctor-face, concerned, like he knows he's hurting. "Here, let me help out just a little for now," Dad says. He reaches out for Shawn's dick. He takes his finger, fuck! that couldn't be the same finger that was just up my ass, could it? - and very gently and fast, wipes the drop of dick juice off of the tip of Shawn's dick. Shawn jumps at the touch. "Dad!" Dad brings his finger to his mouth, sticks his tongue out to meet it, and licks the drop of Shawn's dick juice off his finger. "Fuuuuuck" Me and Shawn together. Dad grins, me and Shawn staring at him, like we couldn't believe he just did that. "Chris! Boys! Dinner. Now!" Mom. Dad breaks the stare, and kinda nods towards the sink. We begin to wash up. First Dad and especially his finger. Then Shawn and me. Shawn's clothes are on the floor, so he starts getting dressed right there. My clothes are in my room. Did Dad really just, like eat, Shawn's dick juice? Dad calls out to Shawn, "Shawn, why don't you be a sport and wipe up your brother's spunk? Use your underwear, then throw 'em in the hamper." "Sure Dad, as long as I don't hafta eat it." "Oh, that'll come later," Dad says with a mischevious smirk. I smirk too, knowing Shawny's turn coming. "Honey, Shawn'll come down to set the table for Trip. They switched chores for tonight. He'll be right down," Dad calls down to Mom. Dad looks at us, nods like he's asking, `is that ok?' Me and Shawn look at each other, shrug, and nod `ok' back to Dad. "Boys - Shawn, Trip - tonight, after dinner, we'll finish up. All three of us. In my study. I'll tell your mother, uh, uh, something. Shawn, you can hold out till then?" More of a statement than a question, like he didn't want an answer if it wasn't `yeah.' "Yeah Dad. Tonight, after dinner." "Proud of you son," Dad says as he slaps Shawn on the shoulder. Wait, I still can't believe Dad ate Shawn's dick juice. I look at Dad, about to ask him if he really just ate Shawn's dick juice. But Dad cuts me off. "You did good today son, I'm proud of you too." "Thanks Dad, but..." "Better high-tail to your room, throw some clothes on and come down for dinner." Serious Dad again. "But Dad, I..." I start to ask him. "After dinner, we'll finish up, take care of Shawn, finish up. We can talk then, OK? "But Dad..." "Yeah son." I look down at the floor, "Did you really just, like, eat Shawn's dick juice?" There. I got it out, I said it. "Come on, go put some clothes on, get dressed, come down for dinner. We'll talk it out later. OK, Trip?" Again, in that tone, like, he didn't want an answer.. "Yeah Dad. OK." Dad pats me on the shoulder, as I head out the bathroom to go to my room to put some clothes on. I can hear Shawn downstairs, and the clinky sounds of him setting the table. Yeah! At least I get out of setting the table! I turn back towards Dad, "Man, Dad, I can't believe you just, like, ate Shawn's dick juice!" Dad grins, as I run to my room to get dressed. - - - to be continued - - -