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 Three


Bob Roberts

Things continued to go well around the house over the next couple of weeks. The biggest change was that Dad and I did some work on each of our beds and box springs to reduce the noise a little when we fucked. It was now August, and East Tennessee summers are pretty brutal. So we were fucking more inside than in his workshop, or the woods, or my truck, and we needed to keep things as quiet as possible because of the boys.

To clarify the set up, our house was (is) a simple place built in the 1940s. But it has three bedrooms and two small bathrooms. One of those baths is shared by the two smaller bedrooms. Before the babies got here, Dad moved out of the biggest room and into the one that shares a bathroom with me, so there'd be more room for all the kids' shit and so he and I could have easier access to each other's dicks. But we still maintained our separate rooms. Sleeping together all the time was still too "faggot" for him at that point.

I woke up earlier than Dad that day, as caring for a couple of four-month olds had really fucked with my sleep schedule. I checked on Dad and could hear him snoring, so I decided to slip in there and blow him while the boys were still asleep. Dad was on his back and I slid under the covers, silently making my way down to his manhood. Fuck, he smelt amazing. Hadn't showered yesterday even after a long hot day of working in the shop, plus there was an extra aroma of cum and even more sweat from last night's fuck.

Dad was as soft as he gets, maybe three inches. I've always loved getting ahold of a small soft dick, making it hard, and taking its juice. I guess that was a power trip for me as a boy, and it's never gotten old. I took him into my mouth and started gently sucking, holding onto his leg with one hand and rubbing his hairy belly with the other. It didn't take long for Dad's meat to start rising with the attention my warm mouth was providing, even though I could still hear him lightly snoring. And every time I shifted it seemed like I rubbed over another patch of dried seed - mine or his or both. He really needed to wash those sheets. Or not.

Pretty soon I had him at full attention, eight and a half hard inches going in and out of his boy's mouth, with light streams of precum dribbling down my hairless chin. And the snores had turned to moans and "fuck"s. Dad loved early morning head, and I really needed to do it more often. He loved `em so much that he'd get extra turned on and cum much quicker than normal. True to form, his rod was soon pulsing at the back of my throat, delivering his first load of the day. I took every fuckin drop too. He taught me that years ago. A man's seed was to be respected. Never wasted.

I left him in my mouth for another minute or two, savoring the power trip of having taken a soft three-incher and turning it into almost nine inches of cum-shooting steel. Eventually I exited the covers and settled into his arms. We kissed while I jacked my load onto his stomach and chest.

After a few minutes he looked at his Timex and said, "Fuck, boy, I got too much work to do today to be lazing around like this." I responded (complaining) that I'd better go check on the boys even though I couldn't hear anything. He told me I shouldn't be bitchin' about that because I was "the one who couldn't keep his dick in his pants." True point, and we both fired up a smoke, got dressed, and staggered our way toward some coffee.

A man of his word, Dad pretty much worked in the shop non-stop all day, for eleven hours or so until the late afternoon. I wasn't able to help him much because being a dad myself took up most of that day. Both boys had fallen asleep just before he came back to the house, so I was able to follow him into his bedroom as he stripped to take a shower. I was fuckin wiped out but as soon as I got a look at his hairy barrel chest, my twelve-year old meat was stirring again. What really got me going was that Dad had never wiped off my cum from the morning, and as he had gotten sweaty during the day, clumps of sawdust had gotten stuck to the ropes of my juice. I sort of chuckled but really it wasn't funny. It was just hot as hell, and sort of another power trip.

Dad stripped bare and headed to the shower. It was a tiny shower, so I rarely joined him in there except to make out or suck him or take a load up my butt. And he was obviously too worn out for that at the moment, so I just hung out in his room. Dad had placed his wristwatch and glasses on the dresser, and his shirt (with his Camels in pocket) was laid across the bed.

I'm gonna have to pause and go back in time for a minute. As I've said, I started working my cock as a very little kid - as soon as I realized it was there. But my first orgasm (dry, of course) wasn't til age six. It was on a similar day, where Dad had come home from work and hit the shower. I snuck into his room while he washed and I started playing with his things. Specifically, I put on his watch and glasses. Doing that caused my little two incher to feel more tingly than it ever had before. Wearing his stuff like that was the closest I'd ever come to feeling like a man. I started jacking like I never had before - quicker and more frenzied strokes. Then I saw Dad's work shirt and put it on as well. It smelled and felt all man - sweaty and worn with a box of smokes in the breast pocket. I stroked faster and faster, smelling his shirt and rubbing his watchband against my little nuts. Soon an intense trembling came over my entire body. I had no fuckin clue what it was - felt like a cross between a huge yawn and a huge tickling - but I sure as fuck liked it. Even after the orgasm was done, it took me a while to come back to my senses. So long, in fact, that I didn't hear Dad turn off the water and leave the shower.

"Goddamn, boy - what the fuck are you doing?!?!?" Shit I was embarrassed. I mumbled something about how I was just playing, but he still seemed pretty pissed off about it. A few years later he confessed that it had actually turned him on, and that he had beaten off as soon as I left the room, but that in the moment he just didn't know how to react.

Obviously, I remember that first orgasm fondly and often fantasize back to it. Sometimes I even do more than that. And that day at age 12, having just seen my father's chest caked with ropes of sawdust and my own semen, was one of those days. I took off my Timex and I put on his. I took off my glasses and I put on his. I took off my shirt, with my own box of Camels in the pocket, and put on his. And I started to jerk. But more slowly this time because I had nothing to hide. I sat in the floor against his bed, facing our shared bathroom, wearing his stuff and gripping my five-inch bone. The water shut off, he left the shower, and I didn't bother to move or hide.

"Goddamn I raised a fuckin perv" was the greeting I got - angry tone coming out of a smiling face. And I just sat there, smiling back with boner in hand while his dick went from three to 8.5 in a matter of seconds. This time Dad played along. He put on my watch and he put on my glasses. Would have put on my shirt but it was too small. Instead he fired up one of my smokes, scooped me off the floor, carried me into my own room and threw me on the bed. My legs flew up toward my shoulders and Dad held `em there as he spitlubed his meat. And like on his birthday in my truck, he entered me rough and fast.

Grunting and moaning, Dad just fuckin tore into me. Smoke pouring from his nostrils, he told me that "with them boys asleep, I'm gonna ride this hole for a damn long time." Feeling cocky, I smarted back that if the house was too quiet I could always go find another girl or two to knock up. Grinning, Dad told me that if I did that he would crack me in two. Still feeling cocky, I told him, "You already are. I can take it. That's nothin'." Dumb move when you're a 90-pound 12-year old and your dad's packing an almost nine-inch baseball bat between his legs.

"Oh yeah, you smart-ass fuck? Taking this cock is nothing?" Dad put his weight into me hard. His chest pressed my knees into my shoulders, totally pinning me down with my raging boy boner sticking straight into his gut. He intensified the force and depth of his thrusts. "You're gonna remember this breeding, boy. You ain't gonna be able to goddamn walk when I'm finished here." Turns out I was still able to walk afterwards, but just barely.

Him saying that brought a huge load out of me. Hands-free, but I was essentially fucking his hairy belly. He didn't even notice. I stayed pinned down as his piston kept driving in me. Felt like he was fuckin hitting my lungs with that log. The cussing and pounding continued as my still-hard boymeat kept pushing into his gut. Dad was sweating by now and it was pouring onto my face and legs. "Fuckin smartass punk ... teach you what a man does to a punk like you ... gonna fuck this little boy hole til you fuckin break" - it just went on and on, causing me to pump another load into his gut. "Yeah, I hear you moaning', you little fucker. Turns you on, a man takin' you like this. I'm gonna ... aww, aww, unngh, ummmph ... aww FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKKK ... FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK ... FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK your goddamn pussy is ... FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKK." There are still marks in the wall from the force of my bed slamming against it as Dad drove that rough load inside me.

Spent, his 185 pounds collapsed on top of my 90. We kissed as passionately as we ever had. Dad told me I was the best fuck ever - by a mile - way better than my mother or any man in the Navy. And he told me that as long as I kept behaving then I could be as arrogant as I wanted when it was just me and him. I was speechless and needed to just keep on kissing him, savoring yet another sign that he was respecting me as a man. We stayed locked like that until he got hard again and flipped me onto my stomach to ease back inside my hole.

He fucked me tenderly like that for a few minutes until we heard the boys crying. How they slept through that much of his cussing and wallbanging, I don't know. I quickly got dressed and headed out to be a dad. As I left the room, my own dad told me I would probably need to sleep in his bed that night.