This story is fiction, inspired in part by real events that have happened in my life. It involves ten year olds willingly having sex with their dads. If that bothers you, or if you should not be reading this for any reason, then move on. And while we all enjoy reading porn on this site, please don't go out into the real world and hurt anybody.


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Twelve Year Old Dad: Chapter Two


by


Bob Roberts


By this point the boys had been with us for about three months. Things were going really well, or at least as well as things could go with two babies in the house. And much had changed with Dad and me - all for the better. I was sobered by the realization that there are sometimes consequences for how a man uses his dick, and Dad was sobered a bit too because he knew he'd egged me on. So we had both settled in to being satisfied with what we had - that being hot as fuck dad/son sex whenever we wanted it, in a house that was totally woman-free. And Dad was around the house a lot more. He cut back on his hours at the mill and was instead doing more furniture building in his shop out back (with my help when/if the boys were ever asleep at the same time). He'd figured out that there was good money to be made sending his "Appalachian craftsman" chairs up North for sale. Jim would supply Dad with wood in turn for a cut of the profits. And the sex was more frequent and better than ever. So things were really looking up.


It was Dad's birthday (47th) and I had already sucked on him for a good while that afternoon in the shop. I didn't get him off though, as we got interrupted by the sound of one of the boys waking up inside the house. Dad and I always had damn good birthday sex though (mine or his), so I knew we'd both get our nuts thoroughly drained after supper whenever things quieted down.


After we got the boys down (for a while) that evening, Dad suggested we go outside and check out my truck. I knew that was code for "let's go outside and fuck." He and I have always been grunters and moaners whenever we're really horned up, so he wanted us out of the house. Plus, he knew I had a serious boner for that truck of mine (a sweet green '58 Ford F-100 banger), I was pretty much out the door before he'd even finished the word "truck."


Dad joined me outside and we each fired up a smoke. He led me around the far side of my truck, just to put a little more distance between us and the house. Then he just rammed me up against my passenger door and started kissing the fuck out of me. Apparently Dad liked the idea of spending his 47th birthday stickin' his fat cock inside of the 12 year old boy he'd made. Dad's 8+ inches were already rock hard - I could feel that monster pressing against me all the way through his work pants. I was already boned too, of course. By the way, I'd grown a little since the time I was out knocking up 12 year olds. My dick was now more than 5 inches and my balls were starting to be a respectable size.


Dad kept me pinned against my truck for a good while, holding me in place while we grinded our cocks together and made out like neither one of us had gotten laid in a month. We butted out our Camels and he fired up another one for us to share. Fuck, I always loved it when he'd take a deep drag and then force his exhale into me while we kissed. He knew it too, so I got a lot of it. And I could give it as good as he could.


Anyway, I eventually made it down onto my knees and freed his throbbing wood. He'd been working all day so his cock tasted of sweat and total fuckin manhood. I got down to his sack too, which was totally ripe in the best possible way. Dad pulled me back up onto his cockhead, leaned against my Ford, and started slowly fucking my moist lips. Goddamn I love that man. Slow easy thrusts yet delivered with force because he knew he had me cornered and wasn't gonna let me go anywhere.


Dad's thrusts got longer and deeper, and that pulsing meat of his was getting even fatter than normal. And I sure knew how to suck that big fucker. Hell, we'd been at it for years so I knew what I was doing. I also knew that his throbbing meant I was about to have another load of his seed pushed down my throat. But Dad surprised me and pulled out. Lifting me up off my knees, he moaned "I want more, boy. Get in your fuckin truck."

Hell yeah. I knew I was about to get bred in my Ford, which was my favorite place to do it. Like I said, that truck has always boned the hell out of me. And it was better for fucking than Dad's truck was, as his had bucket seats but mine had a bench - as long as we could avoid the big ass steering wheel.


I jumped in and took the familiar face down position. Dad was immediately on top of me, and there was obviously not gonna be any slow gradual entry that night. He was already spit lubed and inside me pretty deep right away. Fuck that hurt. Years of experience, but having a fat log like that rammed in ya ain't always easy. The pain soon went away though, which was a good thing because Dad meant business. Moaning and cussing and ramming that fucker in me as deep as it would go. Long, rough, punishing thrusts - the sort a man knows he can get away with on his birthday. Over and over and over for a good five minutes until he finally exploded a huge load up my boy butt. Collapsed on top of me, both of us panting and cussing (in a happy & fulfilled way), the first non-sailor thing he had to say was, "Don't even think about pulling off that cock. I ain't done with you boy."


And that was the truth. His rod never even thought about going down. I was able to at least maneuver us onto our sides so I could get access to my own throbber. Dad held me, working my nipples and pulsing his meat, until I shot several ropes across my dashboard (that happened a lot, by the way). After a quite a few more "whew"s, "damn"s, and "fuck"s, we settled in for some rest. The cock that made me was still in me like steel, throbbing occasionally. Mine never softened up much either. Dad flipped open the ashtray and fired up a Camel for each of us. We laid there in silence and smoked, him holding me tight and his meat still giving the occasional pulse. Dad kissed my neck (fuck, that stubble felt good) and continued tweaking my nips. Before long his dick had transitioned to slow thrusts as deep into me as he could get.


As he was working back into the second fuck, Dad told how proud he was of me. "You really manned up and took responsibility for those boys. Ain't many men would do that. Makes me feel good knowing I raised a boy like that, and it makes me feel real good to know I get to fuck him whenever the hell I want." Hearing that was pretty damn cool, and my ass responded. Pretty soon I was thrusting into him harder than he was thrusting into me. We laid in the truck for what felt like forever in the rhythm of that slow, round two fuck. Hot fuckin sex, but there was a lot of love that went with it too.


Dad's performance caused me to sperm up my dashboard a couple more times, but he was still in it for the long haul and that was fine with me. "Mmmmh, mmmmh" in my ears for a good 45 minutes at least. Eventually I felt him return to maximum thickness and not long after I took his second hot load. Violently, deeply rammed in me with all that was in him. Dad moaned about he loudest I've ever heard him as he delivered that load, driving one last smaller one out of me and onto the truck floor.


Unfortunately, his moan was so loud that it woke up both boys all the way inside the house. Otherwise I think we'd have stayed in that truck all night long kissing and fucking. Oh well, as is I still obviously remember it pretty clearly all these years later. One hot birthday fuck in a house that would come to be full of `em.


Sort of ironic that I'm writing this on the eve of Father's Day in the U.S. I sure had one hell of a dad.