Date: Sun, 17 Jul 2011 22:39:36 -0700 (PDT) From: Luke Hairyson Subject: My Dad's Hands--Ch.05 Standard disclaimers apply to this story. All rights reserved by the Author. All events that happen are completely consensual between people involved in the story. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now. The Author retains all rights to this story. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the permission of the author. My Dad's Hands -- Ch.05 With the scent of sex and sweat heavy in the air, I continue to massage my father's still-hard cock with my ass. "Give me a minute, Luke," he laughs and nuzzles into my neck. "I'm still really sensitive right now," he manages to whisper as his body shakes with another squeeze of my hungry ass. We made love two more times that afternoon, once he had regained his breath and his cock cooled down a bit. He must've lasted close to a half an hour the second time, pounding me hard and fast, my bubble butt shaking as his large balls slapped against my crack. Still on my back, he fucked the cum out of me, adding a fresh load to the drying sweat and saliva he left in my trail earlier. The smell was intoxicating, just having him on top of me was intoxicating. When he flipped me over and took me from behind, harder and rougher than before, my hands gripping the headboard of my twin bed, I was in ecstasy. I've never relaxed so much when using my dildo. A complete sense of submission washed over me, I was unable to hold back my lusty screams of pleasure as his thick shaft drilled into my hole over and over again. I came all over my sheets with an animalistic growl, and he just kept pounding me, his large hands running down the valley of my spine, which was drenched with sweat. Occasionally he'd lean over and bite gently on my neck, while his other hand held my shoulder tightly, giving him leverage to slam his hips into the cushion of my ass. My back arched up, head back, neck strained, as I felt his cockhead thrusting against my prostate. He even had me ride him, saying that he wanted to see how much I wanted his cock inside me, and I rode his eight inches until my thighs were shaking and my knees gave out. I collapsed on top of his furry, thick body, and when I couldn't do anymore, he began to buck up inside of me. The third load he fucked out of me was small and almost made my balls hurt with their empty contraction. As I felt his body tensing beneath me that third time, I managed to flop off of him, and take his cockhead in my mouth, wanting to taste his load so badly. It was thick and creamy, and slightly bitter, but I swallowed every drop. When we were both exhausted from sex, Dad flipped me on my back and dove into my ass again with his face, lapping up his two loads from earlier and the fresh sweat of my hole. "I can't get enough of this ass," he growled tiredly. His slow tongue and long lapping motions revealed the post-orgasmic sleepiness about to set in. On one long, slow up stroke, just as his tongue hit the base of my balls, we heard a car's tires crunching on the gravel driveway. Both of us froze, before simultaneously flinging ourselves into action. "Fuck! What time is it?" I gasped, while trying to figure out what to do. "Shit, your mother's home," Dad managed to whisper heatedly, while grabbing his clothes and making a beeline for their bedroom. The front door opened and shut as I sprayed some cologne in my room, which still reeked of sex and sweat and man, before I grabbed my towel and ran for the hallway bathroom. The drying cum, sweat, and saliva would be hard to explain. "Alex? Luke?" my mother's voice echoed up the stairwell as I quietly closed the door and turned the shower on. I leaned my hot forehead against the cool blue tile, my heart pounding from the adrenaline, and I let out one really long sigh. The lukewarm water slid down my back, and into my ass, soothing my aching hole. I leaned back and let the water wash the evidence out of my hair, and I watched as the water made the golden hair dark as it flowed down against my tan skin. I can still smell him all over me, the scent of his pits and his sweat in my nose, the taste of his skin and his load in my mouth, and my skin still feels hot where his hands caressed me, the ghost of his touch raising goosebumps along the flesh of my sides. "Luke, honey?" A soft knock at the door as my mother's voice slides through the spaces between the doorjamb. "Yeah?!?" I shout back. "How was your day, dear?" Not knowing how to even answer that question, I replied, "Fine. Be out in a bit," and a sense of guilt washed over me, a sense of shame that I had never known before. I felt like a homewrecker, a temptress, a heathen, and my mother just walked away from the door. Dinner was awkward, to say the least. I couldn't look neither my father, nor my mother in the eyes, and Dad was much more affectionate than normal, with both my mother and me. I was already at the table when he came into the room, freshly showered and dressed. He walked up right behind my chair and massaged my shoulders in an affectionate, "bro-hug" "no-homo" manner. I tensed up under his touch. "Did Luke tell you that he kicked my butt on our run this afternoon?" Dad asked my mother. "No, he didn't. That's why you guys were both showering when I got home?" mom replied. "Yeah. He whooped my ass. I'm exhausted and starving." He winked at me with the mention of "ass" and then sauntered over behind my mother, who stood at the counter making a salad for dinner. His arms enfolded her as he leaned in and kissed the back of her neck. He had done that so many times before, but this time, this time, seeing him do that, made feelings of anger, jealousy, shame, lust, rage, confusion, and more jealousy bloom deep down somewhere below and behind my stomach, and it rushed like wildfire through my entire body. I could feel the blood in my temples as I blushed with all those emotions. I never thought about or fantasized about what would happen after the fact. What life would be like after Dad and I had done something, and we had definitely done something this afternoon. He was the first man to ever make love to me, and I returned that full-heartedly, but now, with his arms wrapped around my mother, his lips caressing her neck instead of mine, I felt horrible. I barely ate, and despite all my mother's attempts to pull me into conversation, I was listless. As I left the dinner table with a lame excuse of going upstairs to do some homework, I could hear my mother's concerned voice talking to my father about my reticence. I reached the foot of my bed. The covers were still rumpled and disarrayed from our romp. There lay the streaks of my second load that my father's cock coaxed out of me. There are droplets, probably of sweat, still drying. I would've collapsed face-first onto that bed if every inch of it didn't remind me of what we'd done. The scent was still incredibly thick in my room, and I opened both windows all the way before slinking into a sitting position against the side of my bed. My knees tucked up into my chest, my head resting between them. The mirror which aroused me earlier with the sight of my own naked body now taunted me while I watched the tears begin to trace their silvery lines down my face. I ran the back of my arm and hand across my face at the sound of a soft knock at my door, which opened without me having answered, and my father slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him. His large frame slunk down to the floor next to me, unsure of how to treat the issue, the distance between us speaking volumes. I watched as one hand reached out tentatively, but I curled up even further into a ball, the tears renewing their descent. He wanted to reach out and cradle me against him, but I didn't know if I could handle that again, so soon, with everything so different. "Oh, Luke," Dad whispered, his voice choked with emotion, and I looked up into his blue eyes, and was surprised to see tears running down his face. "What have I done?" he asked, his eyes boring into mine, though he was obviously asking himself the question. "It wasn't just you," I managed to whisper, my voice surprisingly strong, even though I felt like a golf ball was lodged in my throat. "I wanted it. I just... I never knew...how I'd feel afterward," I sobbed out. At that, My father pulled my reluctant body against him, rocking me like the small child I felt I was. "I feel horrible, not because of what we did, or how much I loved it, but because I know that you're supposed to be with mom, that you love her too, and that you're..." I lost my train of thought with all the emotions running around inside of me. "Shhh, It'll be all right," he whispered against my temple, and the tinge of desire, which burned even deeper than the shame, bitterness, jealousy, anger, and helplessness in the pit of my stomach, made me realize that it wouldn't be all right. I had no idea what was going on in his head, whether he was feeling the same guilt, the same shame, the same tension, the same conflict between the forbidden and the expected. I wanted to say that we'd never do this again, or should never do this again...the progression from "never" to "should never" showing my already weakening resolve. The only thing that came out of my mouth was "We..." before I started rambling incoherently. "I don't regret anything that we did today, Luke. I love you more than you can imagine, and yes, I love your mother too, but there's always been this side of me, a side I've never explored before. I.." he paused, stroking the stray brown curls off my forehead. "I realize that we shouldn't have done it, and we shouldn't do anything else..." he trailed off. I looked up at him, looking in his watery blue eyes, and any resolve that I felt started to melt away. "I love you," he whispered, and he brushed his lips softly against mine, gently, like a teenager exploring for the first time. As he got up off the floor and left my room, I pictured him downstairs with mom, and then later, sliding into bed with her, holding her, when all I wanted was for him to hold me. The sunlight shining through my windows woke me. Its warm and golden rays thick as honey with small dust motes swirling in mesmerizing patterns. I lay there, half in dream half in reality, and just listened to the sound of my heartbeat in my ears, the sound of my own breathing. The prominent tent in the sheet, stands like a relic of the erotic dream I just left. A dream uncannily like the fantasy I lived out yesterday, the scent of my father still on my pillowcase. I turn my head to the side and breathe deeply, realizing that I can't keep myself from feeling the way I do, even if it's wrong. "One more time," I tell myself, trying to rationalize what I would do if the situation presents itself again. The situation presented itself as I walked into the kitchen, the form of my father's body silhouetted in the light flooding through the window in front of the sink. His back muscles flexing as he washed dishes left over from the night before, I stopped to take in the sight. Every muscle teased my eye further downward over his bare skin, leading my eye downward to the dimples above his ass, and then finally to those two luscious mounds, covered only by bright blue CK briefs. "Are those mine?" I ask, shocked that my father would waltz around the house in my underwear while mom's around. As if reading my mind, Dad said, "Yes, and your mother went to visit your aunt. She left this morning, and I am guessing that she won't be back until tomorrow." Turning and looking over his shoulder, washcloth in one hand, frying pan in the other, he caught me staring at his ass, and he raised an eyebrow mischievously. "Wh..." I incoherently replied, shaking my head and pulling my gaze up to his eyes. "You hungry?" he asked and pointed to an omelette staying warm in the frying pan. Why does everything he says drip with double entendre when I'm horny? I wanted to say, "Hungry like a wolf," or "I have a hunger that only you can satisfy," but instead I said, "Uh huh," and slid the omelette onto a plate and sat at the bar. Dad returned to cleaning up the kitchen, and I watched every movement of his body. Such a strong sense of fluid grace pervaded his masculine frame, while he was doing such menial tasks. The light perfectly highlighted the curves and crevasses, the hair and the silky skin, and I thought he should be an art model. The blue fabric of my underwear cupped his ass, tighter than his own underwear, and when he reached up to put a mug on a high shelf, I could see the fabric pull up over the taut skin at the bottom of his cheek, his obliques flexing and his armpit hair looking even more enticing. I stared down at my omelette, trying to clear my lust-filled brain, but then he turned to put some silverware in the drawer opposite me, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the obscene bulge in my underwear, the ones that I wore yesterday, his cock where my cock rested less than 24 hours ago. The silverware glinted in the light, and my eye was drawn upward, through his fur, to his beautiful chest. "eh hemm," dad fake-cleared his throat, and looked at me. I realized that I had paused, omelette dangling from my fork, halfway to my mouth, which had dropped open at the sight of him in front of me. I quickly took the bite, chewed, and said, "what?!?" around a mouthful of egg and cheese while trying to look unphased. He just looked at me, laughed, and finished cleaning the kitchen. He took my empty plate and set a glass of orange juice in front of me. "I'm going for a swim, if you want to join me," he said as he peeled the underwear off himself, facing away from me, his ass in full view, perfectly covered in dark brown hair. He bends over to pick them up off the floor, his asshole winking at me, and he looks between his legs, checking to see if I was looking. The orange juice dribbling down through the stubble of my chin, evidence that I wasn't only looking, I was practically panting in heat. I downed the orange juice in one gulp, ran upstairs to grab my swimsuit, the slinky one I bought with a friend from the swim team, put it on and ran outside. The pool, secluded from view by trees and a fence, appeared as my father's body popped up at the closest edge, the water dripping off his hair and his beard, slidng down the hair of his torso, like liquid diamonds shimmering in the sunlight. He climbed up over the edge, and I gasped as his bush and full cock came into view. My father was skinny dipping, something I always wanted to try. He dove back in, the wet hair clinging in the cleft of his ass, and I wanted to dive right into it his ass rather than the pool. He swam to the opposite end, turned, put his arms up on the side, and watched me, waiting. I stepped up to the edge of the pool, and peeled my suit down my legs, revealing myself to him again, and it felt as new and vulnerable as the first time. He smiled at me, and I tucked my chin against the fur of my pecs as I dove into the warm water. I swam all the way under water and broke the surface just a foot in front of him. My arm whipped up to wipe my face and eyes, splashing my hair back off my face, and before I no it, my father is pulling me hard against him. He just looks into my eyes, his blue burning into my green, and then he lets me go, climbs halfway out of the pool and then lays forward, his cock and balls pressing against the turquoise wall of the pool, his hairy crack fully exposed. His unspoken, but obvious desires match mine completely, and I slowly float over to him, allowing my fingers to trace over the muscles on his thighs, feeling the bulges of his hamstrings, before sliding up over his hairy ass and spreading his cheeks. I rub my nose along the crack, but unfortunately the scent of chlorine overpowers his own musk. "Hey dad, let's rinse off and go for a run," I suggest while running my index finger up and down his crack, teasing his hole. "Um, okay. Is there something wr--" "No, honestly, all I can smell on you is chlorine, and the first time I eat you out I want to taste you and smell you, you not the chlorine," I reply, blushing at my brazen confession. "Luke, you don't know how hot the sounds," Dad says as he sits up. After rinsing off and putting on some shorts, Dad slaps my shoulder and says, "Race ya to the ridge," and tears off down the front path before I can comment. I stay behind him, watching his body run, the thick torso bouncing while his ass flexes with every bound, and my mouth starts to water as a sheen of fresh sweat breaks out on his skin. When we're twenty yards from the ridge, a hill about a mile from the house, I put on speed and pull up next to him, slapping his ass as I pass him and mockingly shout, "Nice effort!" I beat him to the ridge and lean over, hands on my thighs while I breathe deeply, trying to fill my body with the oxygen it's screaming for. "You're good at sprinting, but it's about endurance, babe," Dad said between deep, breaths and slapped my ass before taking off toward home. I laughed and started after him. He was waiting for me on the doorstep when I ran up, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Yeah, yeah, yeah..." I gapsed, holding my side, "You win, slut." "Slut?" he asked, and then leaned close to me, my skin prickling at the nearness of his body and the closeness of the two of us on full display for anyone watching, and I gulped. "Slut? That's not what you were calling me the third time I was pounding your tight little jock ass yesterday," he whispered tantalizingly. I blushed hard at his words and found myself speechless. He laughed, slapped me on the shoulder and said, "Come on, stud, let's get inside." He peeled off his shorts and let them drop to the ground. With his eyes on me, I picked them up and brought them to my nose, breathing deeply, his scent filling my nostrils, sending my cock into a full rock-hard erection. "Fuck you're hot. Do you know how hot you are, Luke?" he growled, leaning his bare ass against the back of the couch. I didn't answer, I breathed deeply once more, before rubbing his shorts down my sweaty body, dipping them into my own shorts and rubbing them against myself. Then I pulled them out and stepped up to him, and I brought them to his nose. His eyes fluttered closed as he breathed deeply and his tongue snaked out between his lips to lick at the fresh sweat on his shorts. "Yeah, you like that, don't you? Tasting your son's sweat on your own shorts?" "Mmhhmmmmm" he moaned as he brought his arms up and took the shorts from me, holding them against his face. "Yeah, I know you do," I growled, and I grabbed him by the hips, spun him around and pressed against the small of his back, pushing him down against the sofa, exposing his sweaty crack to me. "Fuck, Luke!" he exclaimed. I got off on manhandling him, and by the way his cock started to grow and press against the back of the sofa, he was turned on by it too. "You want me to lick your ass, Dad?" I asked innocently, making him beg. "Luke, please, eat me out, fucking please," he moaned. I teased him by blowing on the sweat, sending a cool shiver up his spine, and I watched his hole twitch in anticipation. I couldn't hold back any longer, and I dove in, licking the sweat from his crack, the hair tickling my face, and I lapped at it with abandon. Swirling down further and further, spiraling around his hole, before plunging in, wetting it and licking it. His ass tasted like he smelled, earthy, musky, pungent, and I loved it, and so, apparently, did he, because he started moaning into the couch cushions as I plunged deeper into him. His ass loosened right up around my tongue, inviting me in further, and I quickly added a finger next to my tongue. When I added the second alongside the first, both dripping with spit, he began bucking back against my hand. When I slipped the third inside, his hole gripped them like a hot rubber band ready to break under pressure, and he started biting the sofa cushions and screaming into them. "Fuck! Luke, Fuck!" he screamed as I began sliding them in and out. "Yeah, I'll fuck," I said as I stood behind him, still sliding my fingers in and out of his hole. As I pulled my fingers out, I quickly replaced them with the head of my cock and slipped right in...at least the head did before his ass clamped down on me and he started to whine into the pillow. I pushed further forward, spitting down onto my shaft and hoping the precum I was leaking combined with the sweat and spit would be enough lube to get inside. I sank slowly all the way in, till my balls pressed against his own, and the root of my cock was flush against his hole. I stayed inside him, flexing my cock in his tightness, feeling the walls of his ass spasming around my shaft. "Lube, Luke, lube," he moaned, as he managed to pull his head out of the cushions. I slowly pulled my cock out of his ass, his moaning and the audible pop as the head escaped the only sound in the room. He stood up, grabbed me and kissed me hard, and breathily said, "Come on, stud," while he grabbed my hand and lead me upstairs. We landed on my bed, him on his back, his legs flung up, eager for me to slide back inside him. I grabbed the lube, drizzled some on his crack and on my cock, and repositioned. I slid back inside him, seeing the emotions and reactions on his face was even hotter than taking him forcefully from behind. I reached up, grabbed his shoulders and started to pile-drive his ass, fucking him harder than he fucked me yesterday, my 21 year old jock body moving like a jackrabbit, on top of him, my cock deep-thrusting in and out of his hole. I almost lost it as his head flung back on my own pillow, rolling from side to side as he began moaning my name over and over, but I just kept thrusting. I felt something inside his ass, figured it was his prostate, and started jabbing my cockhead against it as hard as I could. His arms flung up and grabbed my biceps, which were flexed and taut, holding myself up, my hands now wrapping around his neck and shoulders. "Fuck...me...Luke...Fuck...me..." he gasped out every time my cock slide outward, because his involuntary moans would take over on every inward thrust. His cock was bouncing against his furry stomach, precum shining in the hair, and I watched as his cock began to twitch with every stroke of my cock against his prostate. I thrust in deep and withdrew all the way, and then I alternated with short jabs while buried deep, then slipping the head in and out, and then I made a grinding, hip-thrusting motion, like I was fucking him on the dance floor of a sweaty gay club, glitter and fog and lazers surrounding us while I fucked him into oblivion. Lost in my reverie, I didn't realize that my dad's balls had drawn up and that his cock was throbbing, literally bouncing with every thrust. My father gasping my name and telling me to keep fucking him snapped me out of my own lust-induced haze, and I looked down, watching his hole take my seven inches, the sight intoxicating. The lines where I ended and he began blurred in the flexing of his hole against my shaft, and I watched his body tense as his load began to shoot all over his torso and chest. His ass clamped down on me, tighter than ever before, and it felt like waves rippling over my cock, waves the flexed with every spurt of cum he shot. He moaned with every continued thrust, and I kept going, driving him crazy, fucking harder until his hand came up and pressed against my torso, slowing me down. I pulled out, climbed up his body and straddled his chest, his fur teasing my cheeks, as I jerked in front of his face. He leaned up, taking the head of my cock in his hot mouth, and I lost it as his tongue lapped at my glans, and I shot. The first, second and third spurts filling his mouth with white creaminess, before he couldn't take anymore and it began dripping out the corners of his mouth and down his chin. I pulled my cock from his mouth and continued shooting, splattering his cheekbone, his jaw, his neck, and dribbling onto his chest. I slid back down and lay on top of him, licking my load up of his salty, sweaty skin, making my way to his mouth, sharing my load with him. Before we had fully come down from our post-orgasmic haze, and while we were still making out like horny teenagers, Dad asked me, "How long before you can do that again?" I laughed and looked down, his eyes following mine, until his gaze rested on my rock hard cock, which hadn't softened at all. "Fuck, to be twenty-one again..." Thanks for reading, studs! I always love comments and suggestions. Hope to hear from you, ~Luke ;-)