Date: Wed, 30 Dec 2009 09:18:00 -0800 (PST) From: neel4pop@yahoo.com Subject: The Confession - Part One This story is dedicated to all the Dads that struggle each day with their consciences. Even though you know how wrong it is, even though you justify that "it's just a fantasy... I would never..." the idea never quite goes away. Relief comes only in those private moments when you close your eyes, feeling your cock swell in your hand as you again let your mind wander into that most forbidden territory. Each time the scene is slightly different -- sometimes in the basement, sometimes in the garage, sometimes in his room, sometimes in the shower -- but the result is always the same. The realization of the mutual attraction. The recognition of a shared desire. The two of you at last naked. Drawing closer. Exploring one another's bodies without shame or hesitation. Sharing the intensely powerful intimacy of the ultimate bond between a father and a son. Perhaps it will always remain a fantasy for you. Perhaps at some unknown and unexpected point in the future it might happen by accident. Or perhaps you will gain inspiration from the Dad in this story and start making plans. Comments, thoughts, even tales of your own internal debate of "should I?" are welcome at neel4pop@yahoo.com. Enjoy! - - - - - - - - - - - - The Confession -- Chapter One Confession is supposed to be good for the soul. I can only hope that's the case. No matter how I justify my actions, no matter how many times I question my motives, no matter how I rationalize that the ends justified the means... the simple fact is that I crossed a line and there's no going back now. I still wonder if I did the right thing. Standing here in the late night—or is it early morning now?—looking out the window into the backyard I think about all the steps along the path taken to this moment. Outside, I can hear the wind in the trees and the soft dripping of rain from the eaves, remnants of last night's storm. I smile to myself... nature's earthshaking thunderclaps, dazzling flashes of blue-white lightning and pounding rain had been nothing compared to the passionate fury unleashed in this very room just a few hours before. God himself must have opened the heavens if only to serve as counterpoint to the quaking of our writhing bodies, the uncontrolled moans, and the torrents of cum that had soaked our flesh. Even now I can still taste sperm in the back of my throat. I can feel places on my body where a splatter went unnoticed, dried and glued the hair to my chest. And yes, between my legs I can still feel the residual wetness of lube and cum coating my loosened anus. My balls ache -- I blew a load three times that I can remember, possibly a fourth. That last one I wasn't sure about. I knew I had an orgasm but I'm not sure if there was anything left in me to shoot. I was buried so far down Mark's throat that if I did, he gulped it straight down. Well, I guess my haziness is a bit understandable since I was kind of preoccupied at the time. I was on my back, my tongue licking and slurping at the thick ooze slowly leaking out from his swollen and well-fucked ass as he squatted above me. Less than five minutes before, Mark's insides had been pumped full of sperm for the second time. Second time in his life if you were counting. I guess in a way I was. The cum that coated my tongue, that I felt drooling across my lips and chin, was my own. I knew that. Just as I knew that the flavor of his own ass juice was mingling with the remnants of my jizz in his mouth. A familiar sound from the bed across from me breaks the quiet of the night. Mumbling. Mark has always talked in his sleep, ever since he was a kid. The words aren't intelligible despite years of trying to understand them. He probably doesn't even realize I'm not lying beside him right now but then again, he was as exhausted as I was before finally dozing off in my arms a short while ago. It had been an amazing day for both of us. I know I didn't wake him when I slipped out of bed, carefully pulling the sheet over his sleeping body. Nothing short of a bomb going off would cause him to as much as roll over. The boy sleeps like death. Trying to get him out of bed when he was in high school was no small challenge for his mother and me. Me? Well, I can only wish to have that untroubled sleep right now. It was the sudden sense of uncertainty that kept me from falling off myself, the self-reproach that caused me to leave the comfort of a bed still slightly damp from sex sweat, the worry about what the morning, and the next day and the day after that would bring which pulled me from the warmth of his naked body nestled against me. And guilt. Of course. There is that. A year of wondering and thinking, plotting and fantasizing. Six more months of executing a carefully considered plan. Six long months of a slow and deliberate seduction. I could have stopped it at any time. I know that. Any time during those long months. Earlier last night it still wasn't too late. Several times I could have pulled us both back from the brink. I could have brought it all to a halt. But, I didn't. I lost all sense of right and wrong, all sense of propriety and let myself be taken over completely to the lust that had been boiling in me for more than a year. A lust that I'd intentionally fueled in the body of the man who lay beneath me, legs spread and resting on my arms, looking up at me in a mixture of anticipation and excitement. Even at the last crucial, critical point, as the blunt head of my lube slicked prick was nudging against the quivering opening, I could have listened to the warning bell in my head that said "this is wrong". But I'd ignored that bell for a long time and it had grown fainter and fainter with each passing day. Maybe it was too late. I don't know. All I know was I saw him nod. He was as ready as I was. Wanted it as much as I did. I had to proceed. With a firm grip on the base of my cock, I pressed forward, feeling him open to me, felt his hands tighten on my arms, heard him gasp at the shock of feeling a man entering him for the first time. I watched as he struggled to accept me, watched the pain appear on his face, his eyes closing and his teeth gritting as the ring of muscle reflexively clenched down around the head. I waited until the initial spasms passed, until his eyes opened again, gazing directly into my soul. I pushed a bit more, feeling the heat and tightness of him encasing me. Fighting the urge to go any faster. I leaned forward then and, as if he read my mind, his head rose from the pillow. We kissed. Lips and tongues met, danced wetly together, heightening our passion. I let my weight go and in one long slow motion buried the entire shaft deep inside him. We both cried out at that moment. In exhilaration at knowing we were joined completely. In celebration of fulfilling each of our own long suppressed desire for the other. In lustful defiance of all that society had taught us was wrong. "I love you, Mark" "I love you, Dad" With those words ringing in our ears, it was done. The very cock that had created him had just taken my handsome, beloved son's virginity. His father's cock. My cock. Condemn me if you want. Sit in judgment of me if you will. There's nothing you could think or say that I haven't already gone over in my head a thousand times myself. Or, maybe, just maybe, a part of you will understand when I tell you my story.