Date: Mon, 24 Apr 2006 23:43:46 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Naval Tradition, pt. 6 Naval Tradition Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com) Another episode in the story of Jim and his Dad. Let me know what you think, or any story suggestions at billdrake@hotmail.com. More of my stories available at the Authors page of Nifty archive, or at a Yahoo Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/drakestories/ WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction explicitly depicting sexual acts between male relatives. If that offends or disturbs you, read no further. If not, sit back, unzip, pull it out, and enjoy. Naval Tradition Jim's Story 6 Spring Break 2004 When I woke up, Dad wasn't there. He was religious about his morning jogs. Normally, I was, too, but this was my vacation, and besides, I felt too fucked out from the last night almost to walk to the bathroom, much less go for a run. I smiled inwardly as I reached back and felt the twin globes of my smooth ass, wondering if it turned men on, if it turned Dad on. It was all so weird, I mused, as I did my thing on the crapper, then stepped into the shower to clean away the heavy residue from last night's sex. Over the last 24 hours, my father and I had pushed through to another level of intimacy. Before I'd gone off, it felt surreal and by chance. A couple furtive attempts at playing with the forbidden. Now we connected with sustained urgency, like two star-crossed lovers sneaking away to carry on their torrid affair in dark alleys and Mexican hotel rooms. I laughed at the idea as my fingers massaged my slightly sore sphincter. It still felt empty and pleasant all at once, but Dad's large tool had certainly made itself known. An understatement if there ever was one. I toweled off and examined myself in the bathroom mirror. Not bad for a nineteen-year-old I thought, running my hand along the bulged contour of my torso and up over my shoulder. Some of the guys on the team didn't bother with aerobic conditioning any more than they had to, certainly not like I did. Let's face it: baseball can be physically demanding in some respects, but it's easy enough to play if you have a beer belly or a lot of padding on your muscle. But I was proud of my fit body, but lean bulk, my flat stomach. I was convinced that having a sound body helped my game, but I had to admit the cosmetic effect was a nice bonus. I traced my fingers down the ripples of my abs and cupped my genitals which swayed soft in the steamy air. I thought of what other men I'd met had said about my endowment. It was petty to be proud for something so out of your control, but you can't help but enjoy the admiration when guys treat your cock like royalty. I had my father to thank for that. Robert McGrath wasn't as big around as I was but had me topped by three unbelievable solid inches. Normally I might have been jealous to be so summarily beat by a bigger specimen, but with Dad it just made me proud, and grateful that I inherited a fraction of his manhood. Dad had just returned when I stepped out. He was just sitting down to the table on the balcony with the coffee and breakfast he'd fetched for the both of us. "Morning, Slugger," he beamed. "Sleep OK?" "Yeah, when we finally did get to sleep," I teased. "Feeling all right this morning? We went at it pretty heavy last night." I could detect the hint of hesitation in his voice. "Yeah, we did," I grinned reaching for a danish. "And I'm not a small man." It was funny, there was equal parts cockiness and fatherly concern in his voice. "You sure aren't," I retorted, laughing. "Well, what I'm saying, Jim, is... the last thing I want to do is hurt you. I'm not saying this feels wrong, what we're doing, but I don't want to take advantage of my boy." "Look, Dad, I'll let you know if things go too far. It's not going to happen, but if it does I'll speak up." The hangdog, expectant look on his face was heart-melting right then. "Yeah it was tough to take your ten-inch prong up my tail, and yeah I'm a little sore down there this morning. Who wouldn't be? But I wanted it as much as you. I shot each time you fucked me, didn't I?" Dad's paternal look curled into a subtle sneer. "Damn straight, you did," he growled, his cheeky humor returned. We continued with our breakfast, enjoying the oceanview and discussing what we wanted to do that day. Beach of course. Maybe catch some of the nightlife that night. "Just remember your father's not a college kid. If you want to go off and have fun with guys... or girls... your own age, don't let me stop you." "Dad, why would I..." "I'm serious, Jim. This week's about us, I know, but it's also your Spring Break. I don't want you to miss out on good partying and fucking just because your dad has the hots for you." He gave me one of those winks to assure me he was half-kidding, but only half. "Hell, Dad, you just want me to go off so you can make the moves on one of these frat boys partying around town." His grin turned up a corner. "Would that bother you, son?" I was taken aback. It was under the guise of pretense, but I somehow knew Dad was asking me if it was OK if he fucked around that week. I took a second to think about. "Nah. Not really." The connection between his powder blue eyes and mine was intense as anything at that moment. "Seriously, Dad, I want you to be happy. I want us to connect all week, like we did last night. Nothing else matters, when you think about it." "No son, it doesn't," he muttered, his eyes boring into me. By now I was getting hard talking about sex, thinking about Dad topping some poor unsuspected frat boy. On top of that, Dad looked magnificent just fucking sitting there drinking his coffee. The sun streamed in lighting his body in golden white. The illumination made the gray flecks in his hair shine, even in the dark pattern of downy bristles that swirled over his massive chest. The contour of muscle were more clearly visible underneath and my cock made its full ascent to erection. "Dad, can I ask you a personal question?" "Shoot." "You suck dick?" He pushed his chair back, spread his legs and placed his beefy hands on top of his hairy thighs, just below the hemline of his jogging shorts. He gave a quick beckoning nod. "Slugger, thought you'd never ask. Get that McGrath cock over here." My cock twitched. I had a major case of the morning horns and Dad was going to take care of them. I pushed my full jock bod out of the chair and stood up erect, my wide cut dick jutting forth. I stepped up to my father and growled as I felt his fingers circle around the shaft. I'm fatter than he is by a good couple of inches, so the long fingers of his hand failed to close around the girth of my cock. It felt hot watching my dad inspect my meat. Here I'd been servile, sucking him off yesterday the second we were in the hotel room. Now, Dad was returning the favor, starting with gentle kisses up the length of my engorged shaft. As his lips nudged up the underneath of my shaft, I watched as a big bead of clear, viscous juice gathered at my exposed pissslit. Dad moaned the second his Roman nose touched the wetness. Bending his head backward he pulled the cockhead to his mouth and sucked in the fresh sap. Just that one action, so confident, so natural and yet so nasty, pushed more precum up from my balls. The pre-ejaculate spurted out this time instead of oozed and Dad groaned from deep within his chest as he swirled his hand over his broad chest and leaned into suck more. "Know what son? You got one helluva dick. I never seen such a fat piece. Don't know how much your old man can handle." "'s OK, Dad," I started to answer, but already he loosened his jaw and wrapped his lips around the wide circumference of my everhard prick. Instantly, my sensitive prickhead was enveloped by the warm wetness of Dad's mouth. His tongue lapped at my pissslit and the round flare of my glans lodged in between his teeth. I guessed he was being rewarded by a steady flow of my pre-fuck juice, cause he held my legs steady and stayed immobile on my erect cock, licking away furiously and moaning like a banshee. Finally, after he'd had a good taste, he began his descent. Gradual and steady, taking his time to stretch his oral cavity and gullet with the girth of my cock. I can't convey to you what an incredible turn on it is to see your father struggle to suck your meat down his throat. My dick looked fatter than I'd ever seen it, a real beercan cock. Dad's lips just stretched and his throat gulped with saliva as he swallowed more, millimeter by millimeter. He didn't swallow me whole, but at a good five inches of my fat fucker, he'd certainly achieved an accomplishment most men hadn't. What made it hotter was that it was Dad's wet mouth and throat stretched around my hardon, constricting and twitching against the rounded head of my prick, the corona catching deep in his gullet. He took a deep breath through his nose then back off a little. He sucked, and pushed his head back down. I don't know where Robert McGrath learned to suck cock, but getting head never felt so good. As best he could, the man twisted his head down as he thrust down toward my pelvis. He gripped my swollen balls in his hand, and I reflected on how hot it was watching a man fingering his own son's testicles, it was as if he was judging the inheritance he'd left his offspring. Like my cock, my gonads were fatter than Dad's, I knew, and just by the way he caressed and gripped the sensitive fat fuckers, I could tell he was proud of what he'd given me. After closing my eyes and concentrating on the sensations his mouth was giving me, I looked down and saw the shirtless masculine glory of Ret. Commander McGrath sucking cock. My, James Andrew McGrath's, cock. I thought of a hundred things. I thought of Dad dropping to his knees to inspect his direct reports' equipment. I thought of him spending his early retirement living with me, blowing me every morning before school and work. I though of him sucking my brothers off like he was sucking me. That did it. My nuts drew up, big balls that were swinging against Dad's chin a second ago now clung anxiously to my stalk. My cumtube swelled out against Dad's tongue, making my fat round shaft grow even wider, more irregular in shape. Then my pissslit opened up deep within Daddy's throat as my cock belched out several jets of thick, rich cum. Dad swallowed it all, too. Took it as his duty, as father, as sucker, as my superior. He coughed a bit as soon as my firing cock had slowed to a dribble and he could back off. Spittle and traces of sperm clung to the corners of his mouth, but he did nothing to wipe them off, he just leaned back in his chair, a smile on his face and a hardon poking up broadly in his running shorts. Looking at his broad chest and his handsome face, my dick gave another spurt of juice that landed on his hairy leg. Dad sucked down the last bit of spit and cum lingering in his mouth. "Nice load, son," he intoned in his baritone, giving me the fatherly encouragement I always craved. I offered to return the favor, but he told me no, he'd prefer to save it till later. After a slow kiss, we both showered, separately, then got ready to hit the beach. ************ I guess we were quite a pair, half naked on the beach, Dad's burly hairy body next to my toned varsity athletic frame. I wore a pair of board shorts that slung low on my hips, revealing my tight eight-pack abs. Looking around, I could tell I held my own with the competition. It's not that the frat boys packing the beach weren't hot, but their bulk was softer, their bellies starting to show the hint of padding from too much partying. Still, I could tell Dad's appreciative gaze size up the meat, male and female, parading the beach. Normally, the sole older man on the Cancun beach at Spring Break would seem lecherous, but my father looked incredible spread out on his towel, this firm midsection packed tight into dark blue spandex swim trunks emblazoned with NAVY. Genitals the size of a grapefruit mounded up and stretched the fabric of his crotch. Unlike the preening frat studs strutting about, Dad was confident and relaxed in his utter masculinity. We sat there on our towels, occasionally heading down to the water for a dip to cool off. Both literally and figuratively. Our conversation was getting both of us heated up, talking about which studs we'd like to pick up, which ones would be the best lays. "What about that one, Slugger?" he'd ask, his eyes already stripping one blonde, buff frat boy of his surfer trunks. "Looks like my fuckbud from SAE. Eric. Varsity swim team. Nice, tight fuck." "Yeah?" he looked back at me with a twinkle in his eye. "Yeah, Dad. He used to invite all us baseball guys to the house's parties just for the chance to get laid." And so it went. Another guy would walk past and I'd make some admiring comment, or Dad would tell me how he'd love to feel the guy's hot mouth on his cock. Strange conversation to have with your father, I thought, but after the 24 hours we'd just had, it seemed to flow, a connection of sexual bonding between us that we both knew would continue to deepen over the week. From now on, even. After the beach, we came back, both exhausted. I collapsed face down on the bed, still in my swimsuit, and felt Dad plop down next to me. I'd assumed he wanted to doze off into a nap as well, until I felt the wide span of his fingers cupping and running along the nylon-covered mound of my bubblebutt. "Still sore down here, Slugger?" he asked, his low whisper barely audible. I think he was trying to decide if I was napping yet. "Yeah. Just a little" I responded. His hand felt great. Reassuring somehow. "Too sore to let your old man have a quick one?" I shook my head lazily. "Have at it, Dad." Without wasting a second his fingers lifted the swimsuit material up off my behind and peeled it down, exposing my bare rump to his gaze. His hiss in response was the closest thing either of us came to speaking the next five minutes. He took a brief minute to massage my brawny cheeks, then knelt up on the mattress. I looked back and saw him shuck down his Navy-issue trunks. That big, long banana flopped right out, mostly hard already. The head was wet and moisture gathered in the folds of his foreskin. I imagine he'd been getting turned on the whole time on the beach and was ready for release. After all, he'd not gotten off on the porch this morning. Silently, deftly, he reached over and grabbed the bottle of lubricant. His monster looked even more imposing slicked up, especially as it was now pretty much fully erect, with big nasty veins bulging along the length and his flared cockhead stretching out the foreskin rim wider, revealing as if in bloom the angry pissslit beneath. He reached over out of my field of vision and then I felt the cool plastic of the lube bottle pressed against my anus. He gave a generous squirt and I shuddered as the cold gel filled the folds of my sensitive sphincter. He dropped the bottle to the side and climbed on. Content with my fate, I hung my head down into the pillow and spread my legs as wide as I could with the trunks still around my thighs. It occurred to me that maybe Dad wanted me restrained like this, submissive, my cheeks rubbing tight against his cock. The thought sent the blood to my prick faster than anything. He mounted. I felt his weight above me as he very slowly lodged his cock into me hole. It cleared the breach and I know I gave a whimper. That dick! Hard, wet and as big around as a cattle prod. My ring spasmed around it. Man, he was big, but this time around, my hole was more elastic and my rectum yielded to the pressure of his insistent cock. His thick, meaty slab bored into me, claiming my ass for the third time in twenty-four hours. I grunted, but steeled my self, clutching at the bedsheets. I don't know that I was ready for that after-beach fuck, but I was willing to give Dad just about anything he wanted, anything he asked. Soon my father's hard, heavy prick was lodged in my butt to the base. He held still, but only for a second. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and it made goosebumps sprout up all over my exposed skin. "This one's for your Daddy," he said softly and matter of factly in his deep rumble of a voice. Then he started fucking, thrusting in regular, smooth strokes. He lifted his upper body off my back and really pounded me. God, he was fucking every ounce of air out of my lungs with deep, brutal thrusts. And it felt terrific. Even the discomfort took on an edge of intensity as Dad's hips pivoted his cock over and over into me. Loud, squishy sounds filled the room, a telltale product of our mating, his large genitals overstuffing my tight jock rectum. He didn't call my name out as he came. Instead, a deep rumble shook us both and that perfect dick, the one which had created me so long ago, grew slick with the family seed. Dad's beefy body trembled in orgasmic bliss, then locked still with his pole burrowed deep into my guts, pumping me full of his marvelous essence. I was too overwhelmed with my anal orgasm to realize that my own seed had soaked the bedsheets below. Dad dismounted, our mutual sweat a soft sheen on his hairy torso. His cock still throbbed and oozed and I stared openly and lustfully at it, yet barely able to even lift my arm to touch the manly totem. Exhausted, we collapsed into deep sleep. ************ It was a couple hours later when we woke up, the late afternoon sun telling us that evening was almost upon us. I woke up and felt Dad's burly hand caressing my smooth torso. He was beating off furiously while his eyes traveled up and down my exposed jock body and his fingers played with my erect nipples or the ridges of ab muscle beneath. "Yeah," he muttered, "my boy's awake." I groaned, trying to clear my throat and casually wiped the sleep from my eyes. I still hadn't adjusted to the sunlight streaming in through the window, but I batted my eyelids to try to make out a clearer vision of my father's beautiful, rugged body. In the afternoon light, the man's body hair seemed lighter, downier, and I could see the definition of pale muscle underneath. His thighs were knotted up into cords of powerful mass, as he tensed his body rhythmically with each handstroke. My eyes followed up his giant thighs and locked sight on Dad's massive genitalia. How could I not love fat juicy nuts and that ten inch manspike prodding out proudly from the dark forest of hair that collected at his crotch? Daddy's thighs spread as he turned and straddled my waist. His cock seemed longer and more powerful from the new angle. I feasted on that fucker - big, long, commanding. I wrapped my lips around the tip and sucked, licking the hooded knob. "That's it, Slugger, suck your man's meat. There, nice and slow. Open up for your Daddy, Jim. Yeah... sweet..." For the next fifteen minutes, I made love to my father's megacock. Worshipped it is more accurate. Deep strokes, shallow ones, sucking, swallowing, whatever it took to take him in, slowly, inch by inch. I still, even now, couldn't believe how endowed my father is. I'd begun to approach his bushy pubes with my eager mouth when Dad extracted his engorged meat from my liplock. His prick now inches away from my face, I looked as his foreskin stretched tight over the rim of his flared head and as a fat bead clear juice formed and dripped down to my chest, its path forming a sticky gossamer thread that dangled off the tip of his cock. I gasped a deep, gutteral gasp. "Come on, Slugger, let's shower up. I want to take our time tonight." Stunned and horny, I muttered a mild "yes, sir" and gulped as he lifted his powerful frame off mine and pulled me off the bed. We planted our lips on one another and I could feel the heat of his freshly tanned skin against my own bare body. I didn't know if I was going to last through a shower without shooting the sperm swimming around in my balls. I managed somehow. We showered together, and it felt sexual yet something else, too. Paternal, loving, like the times he'd wash me when I was little or let me watch as he shaved. Finally Dad turned off the water and I started to pull back the curtain and step out, when he stopped me. "Hold it there, Slugger." My cock had been semi-soft all this while, but hearing him call me that and the tone he used sent it traveling upward again. I looked into his face and saw only inscrutable determination. He squeezed my shoulder then turned around. Matter of factly, he filled the sink basin and unzipped his toiletries bag. Out appeared his razor and a can of shaving gel. He turned back around with them in his hands and a look of penetrating cold lust in his eyes. Like he was my father, the man I always knew, but also some one else. A fuckgreedy stranger with a towering erection throbbing below. A Navy commander about to screw his latest recruit. I shivered as the first touch of the cool gel met my chest. Slowly, insistently, Dad's mouth approached mine and we drew toward one another like magnets. My head was getting a little dizzy, which just made his kiss that much hotter. Smooth, sensual, teasing me with his masculine tongue, an experienced mandrill that knew how to pleasure his partner. Equally slowly, his hands began to trace circular motions over my hair-dusted chest, spreading the lubricating gel out over the expanse of my upper torso. "Told you I was gonna take care of my boy," he said in a deep whisper as he backed away, taking the razor in hand and gliding it down the contour of my pectoral mass. It took away the frothy green foam and with it what existed of my man fur. I was kinda proud of my chest hair - hell I'd waited eagerly for it to start coming in. I'd always admired the full crop of wiry hair on Dad's front. And now he was shaving off mine, without asking. I wanted to object, but the electricity of silence hung too heavily between us. And my cock was crowbar rigid. It was like the time Dad had taught me to shave, only far more intense. He was making a man out of me now too, only in a different way. Slowly, surely. I looked down at his hand, patient, smooth in its motions. Seeing the blades near my nipple I cringed in dread, but stayed perfectly still, letting my father's nimble fingers hold my rubbery areole steady while he gingerly flicked away the hairs. If my delapidation hadn't sexually enraged me by that point, that sensation surely did. I gripped Dad's waist and breathed deep. He rewarded me with a soulful kiss and got back to his task. Next was my stomach, where a treasure trail had been widening out into a nice fan of dark blonde fuzz. No more. As he swiped away, the definition of my abs seemed to pop out more, a fact not last on Dad's appreciative gaze. He rubbed and kneaded the rippled stomach muscle a good ten minutes before grabbing the can and squirting out more gel. "Lift your arm, Slugger." That familiar tone of voice that I remember from my childhood: firm, gentle, commanding. Accommodating his desire, I lifted my right arm. The strong fingers of his left hand circled my wrist and pinned it up against the tile. He was at the perfect height to inspect and admire the work I'd been putting into my bis and tris this last season. "Great guns ya got, son," he muttered, bringing his full, masculine lips right to the smooth skin of my upper arm. And he licked. Full, wide swipes, his thick tongue coating my pale muscle. I flexed and balled up the muscle for his appreciation. "Hold it there," he said, gripping my upper arm and pinning it backward. With his right hand, he applied the smooth gel to the underside of my arm, scraping the slickness down into my exposed armpit. "Dad!" I pleaded. "Shhh..." he responded, then lifted the razor to the place where my bicep muscle joined my delt. Then he scraped down, denuding the sensitive area. His stern, determined look broke into a temporary smile as he admired the fresh smoothness of my skin. "Hot, son, so fucking hot." He tended to the soft hairs along my meaty arm, then lifted my left one up and repeated the process. I was full-on boned by now and noticed Dad's big cock was fully engorged, the heavy nutsac drawn up high and tight against his long stalk. I wanted to grab it, to rough-handle that giant prick til it spurted juice all over both of us. I wanted to attack my Dad in the worst way. But I dared not break the intense spell that was cast over both of us at that moment. Our lips crashed together once more, then just as quickly my father pulled away and grabbed my shoulders to spin me around to face the cold tile. My back is completely hairless, but my asscheeks are dusted with a fine coating of blonde fuzz. Dutifully, Dad sprayed out more gel and massaged it over the round melons of my butt. Insistently, his fingers prodded down into my crevice, lotioning up my crack, until his thumb teasing my hole breached the ring ever so slightly. My moan got caught in my throat. "Why shouldn't I just fuck you right here and now, boy? Damn, Slugger, you're turning your old man on, you know." I mumbled an incomprehensible assent and was prepared to feel his heavy stalk line up with my eager-to-be-bred sphincter. Instead, Dad began shaving my buttcheeks, pausing when he got to my crevice, at which point he got down on his knees and pulled apart my cheeks, giving him full access with his careful razor. I'd known for a couple of years the pleasure of that area, but fuck, it wasn't until the exotic tickle of having my hairs shaved off that I realized how fucking great it could feel. I felt a splash of cold water on my rosebud, followed by the heat of Dad's breath and the wet insistence of his tongue as it darted forth and made contact. "Shit, Dad!" I hissed, now unable to stay silent. Dad poked and prodded my hole as his face buried deep in between my round asscheeks. God, he could rim, nice strokes of his powerful tongue, first deep, then wide, then corkscrewing their way into my inner depths, drilling me, teasing me, making me squirm. It was only more intense feeling him lick at bare skin puckered up around my rosebud. I looked over my shoulder and was rewarded with the sight of my father on his haunches, making love to my butt. His handsome face was half obscured by my now baby-smooth ass muscle, but his forehead and the top of his nose reminded me of his square-cut good looks. "Come on, Slugger," he cooed gently as he pulled away finally. Spit and remnants of shaving gel covered his chin and mouth. "Let's go back to the bedroom. I wanna make love to this jock butt right." We disconnected just long enough to rinse off then pad our feet into the other room. Roughly, Dad kissed me, our tongues fighting in lust. Then, he turned me around and pushed me face down on the bed. I turned up my head and saw both of us in the mirror at the head of the bed. Once again, Dad hunkered down and burrowed his way into my shaved and primed jock butt. Once again, I moaned and tossed my head back in the sensations from his deep-tissue butt massage. Maybe only Dad could say for sure how much my asshole was fluttering open, but it sure felt like I was opening up anything Dad was going to give me, that's how intense his rim job was. He went at it for must have been twenty or thirty minutes. He was a maestro working me up into a crescendo then back down, before attacking me full on again. I was long muttering "fuck me!" before he knelt up and positioned his prick at the entrance to my backside. Snug and slick from the royal spit job Dad had given me, the monster cock just popped in. I groaned and Dad called out a dozen expletives. Holding his hands firmly on the small of my back, he pushed his dick inward, stuffing my chute once again full of his cock. Only this time I was ready, my ass just dilated around his invader and he sank in. "I'm in you son," he breathed. I shuddered as my ass twitched around his firm cock and I felt his harsh grip on my hips. He swiveled back and I heard him hock spittle onto his shaft, then he pushed back in. "Ungh..." I groaned. "Damn, you're fucking me good, dad. Hard, deep fuck strokes." Unconsciously, I spread my legs, inviting Dad deeper in. And deeper he thrust, pounding the wind out of me. "You're one tight fuck, Jimbo. Nice. It's so wrong for a man to enjoy his boy like this. Bending his own son over when ever he gets the horns, burying my big bone up your jock butt. Aw yeah, hike that ass back, son. Fuck! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" He really began pounding me, working me over from the inside out. And I was bucking back against his thrusting pelvis for all I was worth. Each inward spike urged me to grind my cheeks harder against his pubes. We were in smooth synchronicity, a true father-son fucking machine. Then, suddenly, Dad reaches under my chest and pulls me up. We're both facing the wall-mounted mirror, my smooth jock body contrasting with his dark, hairy build. I don't know that I've ever felt so possessed before that moment. I looked down our bodies' reflection, til my eyes latched onto his thrusting cock, slick with his own spit. His fat furry balls pounded my backside, swinging like heavy pendulums beneath my smooth, shaven balls. I thought of their purpose, to produce more seed to inject into me, into his own flesh and blood. Dad was in a full-fuck rage and I was, too. Hungrily, his wide hands explored my smooth torso, and his hips bucked harder and harder. "Fuck, Dad! Fill me with your seed." "Ah, Slugger, gonna fuck you full..." I looked down between our spread legs and could picture his fat father testicles twitching and pumping fresh naval officer cum into my insides. Then I felt it, the heavy, thick fullness of his load churning into my insides, and my cock jerked and bellowed forth an intense spray of jock jism all over the mirror and the back of the bed. My abs flexed, my body convulsed and I underwent the deepest, most intense orgasm of my young life.