Date: Sat, 15 Feb 2020 14:58:11 +0100 From: wise owl Subject: Watching Daddy (part twenty-three) for gay/incest Reader Note: This is a love story pure and simple. A loving tribute to a dad from his son. If this offends you- and by that I mean male sexuality in all its fullness, if you are not of legal age, then please do not read this. If you have comments, please email me at wiseoldowl@gmx.com Please give to Nifty, your support keeps it going! My daddy's early years growing up can be read at: www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-youth/the-life-and-times-of-natural-noodle www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/natural-noodle-and-the-local-lads/ www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/incest/natural-noodle-and-friends Watching Daddy Part Twenty-three: So, I stood shaking and wanting something- anything super exciting to happen between daddy and the tailor. But honestly, besides my daddy getting named and having his noodle touched...my knowledge was very hazy at that point in my young life. I'd seen snatches of sex between mum and dad and that tickling-touching-massaging he and Harrison got up to. I really had no clue what might happen but I wanted something to happen. I was afraid my tittering little body by the curtain would give me away. I knew daddy probably knew I was spying, he knew me so well, but Mr. Finestone did not have a clue. He probably thought I was counting buttons on suit coats out front! Daddy's tight flimsy bikini underwear was holding his manhood in, just! I knew he was aroused and that wet patch looked ominous in the shop lighting. And seeing daddy's tight arse in that stretchy dark nylon in the mirrors behind him was truly sexy, if sexy at my age then was the right word to use, well- it was super neat to see and I liked it! The small man minced up to daddy as he stood on the platform. My breathing became very rapid and my heart beat like a tom-tom. "He won't come in?" Mr. Finestone asked cautiously in a voice I could hardly hear. I knew "he" was me! Daddy smiled as Mr. Finestone adjusted his spectacles to fully enjoy daddy up close. "Tony, is so good. He lets me have my adult-time, most of the time." Daddy said now taking a pose I knew well. He pivoted on his socked toes a few inches to the right, to the left with his hands on his hips...letting the hungry old man drink in the sights of the perfect 40 something male body in great fit shape. "Such great physique, my handsome Reggie. May I?" The very nervous man asked moving even closer to posing daddy. "By all means, go ahead." Daddy said not moving his hands from his hips but now standing still. His moustache twitching with a smile and that golden-reddish hair with delightful touches of grey caught the above lighting and crowned him in glory- so theatrical! The aging hand of the tailor moved and tenderly stroked one of daddy's arms- letting the fingers massage daddy's muscles, up and down. "So tight and pleasantly fuzzy with hair." He said in a whisper. "Keep touching me." Daddy said almost in a commanding way. His blue eyes gazing down and almost willing the old man to explore his whole body. "Measure me, anywhere you want?" Daddy added in what I grew to know as "a raspy sex voice". It was both suggestive and demanding. I did not know then at my young age all I was to learn and see about daddy's sex life in the years to come...but this urgent-needy voice, it sent vibrations thru my core! I also noted a ripple of tremors pass all over my daddy's near naked flesh. It was like he rippled as he spoke. "I have the tape measure here." The old man croaked waving it in his other hand. "Touch me. You want to. Do it." The raspy voice ordered as if a god spoke. Now the old man tottered and nearly tumbled off his feet in need, want...lust. "I...I haven't done this much lately." He stammered. "Well, pal, your shop is closing and this whole damn block is coming down...damn well better get busy, time is ticking!" Daddy said in a street-wise way that also was new for my ears. I learned this gritty "man to man" sex talk. Forceful and raunchy and part of role-play. I found out later that daddy could play all the parts from innocent victim to aggressor and all shades in-between. The sound that came from aging Mr. Finestone was like a roar...but from deep inside. Guttural yet not too loud. Daddy's eyes popped wide. The tiger before him reared and struck. I jumped, but covered my mouth. I nearly screamed. The old man had taken his free hand and grabbed at daddy's left nipple. His hand vigorously rubbed and lavished in daddy's rusty golden pectoral zone. This was worship and daddy was the object being adored. "Your chest muscles are so tight and strong!" The older man gushed. "I swim you know. Really squeeze me, pinch- twist, go on, do it...I can take!" Daddy rasped back staring wildly now about the room. His arse muscles grew tight in his underwear, I could them clenching and flexing in the mirror behind him. He bounced from toe to toe on his socked feet upon the platform as if goading the man to satisfy some primal need to hurt. Daddy bit his lip with a quick gesture that stifled a yell. I learned that my daddy liked pain in various forms...and this was the first time I really knew it. I'd seen touches of it with Harrison and now...I saw it again and a mixed expression crossed his handsome face. Red from pain and bliss from delight. I saw both in his eyes, his mouth...his whole being. I just had to trust this was normal. My little boy's fears wanted me to rush in and save daddy but common newly dawning sense ordered me to stay still and watch...I was the voyeur and watching was what I did! The tailor looked at daddy with triumphant glee. I could see this pretty well in the mirrors. He enjoyed making my handsome nearly six-foot tall daddy hover between heaven and hell. The fingers twisted and pinched the nipple like it was a screw. Daddy's hands still remained on his slender hips...daddy was allowing this man the chance to do anything, anything at all! The now trembling wrinkled hand suddenly pulled away. Daddy exhaled loudly and laughed jovially. "Fantastic, hell, just fantastic." Mr. Finestone gasped as he shook all over from the excitement he and daddy were creating. The tailor nervously then threaded the measuring tape around daddy's naked waist above the underwear. I think both parties enjoyed the pretext of measuring daddy's very trim waistline. The tailor stepped sideways and I saw even more wetness on daddy's bikini-style crotch front. And his uncut noodle was truly a turgid flesh-log that was about to break free! The tailor stooped low and was eye level to daddy's throbbing crotch. He fumbled measuring daddy's in-seam...his fingers massaging daddy's leg all along as he measured from heel to below the ball sack tightly held in place by those flimsy undies. Daddy balanced on one socked foot and raised his other up off the platform. "I have pretty big feet. You know what they say?" Daddy leered down over the man's puffed and primped grey haired head. The tailor reached and stroked the full length of daddy's sweaty socked foot...the hand relished and lolled in daddy's sleek high arched sole. "I do indeed, Reggie. And I dare say you are showing me lots of truth to the statement in those very tight briefs you are sporting." The older man gulped for air like a fish caught on dry land. "Then, by all flipping means, measure me...I can take these off to help." Daddy said almost like the serpent inviting Eve to the tree to taste forbidden fruits. The aging man stood slowly and faced daddy as best he could since daddy was so much taller and also on this platform in front of the mirrors. They were so close, face to chest more or less. I saw from the rear mirror view that daddy now had his fingers under the waistband of the undies...rubbing in and around the tight thin fabric. "Shall I drop these? Would it be helpful?" Daddy hissed seductively. Those blue eyes now looking at the older man with almost a plea for permission to release his bursting manhood. "I can help." A very dry-throated voice burbled up from the tailor's gaping mouth. Together daddy's big strong hands and the tailor's delicate wrinkled ones worked the underwear slowly off daddy's slender hips and over his tight shapely arse cheeks. I saw the arse emerging, the arse I loved- all round-tight and gently golden-rust fur clad slide into full view and I sighed deeply. The undies fell to daddy's socked feet and he nimbly stepped free and kicked them clear. He wore only the sexy blue gold-toe socks now. His feet slid apart. I could still not see his noodle. The shop owner's body blocked my view. But I heard! "OH Reggie! Brilliant, fantastic! So big, uncut and full. A real manly specimen indeed! OH Dear God." The older man gushed as daddy now looked down with huge smile upon his handsome face. I was now about to faint. My small body was convulsing. My own boy noodle was so alive...I mean even I was impressed with what I felt with my fingers! Watching this was so riveting and satisfying and I had no bloody idea why! The older man's hands still hovered on either side of daddy's hips. "Touch me, go on. Feel me." Daddy begged. The dainty wrinkled hands moved down between the two men and I could not see what they did. BUT daddy's head snapped skyward and I could see his eyes roll back in his head with pleasure. His hips began a slow gyration and his arse cheeks clenched like mad in the mirror behind him. "YESSS, YESSS." Daddy grunted from his depths. "It's like playing an instrument; your hands just know what to do to make music." The older man said in a tremulous voice from down near daddy's noodle. "You can use your mouth, play me like a flute." Daddy said still moving his hips and looking heavenwards. The old grey haired head moved lower and began to bob about. Daddy quickly acted- his big hands both moved to that head and held it on either side and guided its movements as if driving it to and fro. Daddy seemed to be "using" the man's skull to create pleasure and sensations that I could see written all over his handsome face. "AHHHH, YES, move the skin; really pull it back...YES-YES!" Daddy groaned and his hips thrust up and met the man's face. I heard a garbled choking sound and then wet slurping sounds. My youthful mind only knew one thing...the man had daddy's engorged noodle in his mouth. I had no idea this was even a "thing" that men or women did to each other- but now I knew. I could not see the actual act itself, but I knew. And I was shaken to the core but not upset...fascinated and thrilled. I was privy to a very private daddy moment and I saw and heard most of it...WOW! I was on fire! My sweaty socked feet shook- hell, I shook all over! The compliments for my daddy's exquisite uncut manhood (Le Noodle Devine as legend would have it) were pouring forth in between slurps and gurgles and coughing chokes. All the while daddy worked that old hairspray laden head like it was some sort of piggybank to be shook this way and that- but always right at noodle level! "The skin is so long and soft!" "Ahhh, it's too big, I'll choke." "You make too much juice, I'm gagging on it." That is just a few of what I recall now as I look back. The very idea that my dad's lovely hard noodle was being salivated over in this stranger's mouth, well, it was so illuminating to me about the ways of sex and what adults did in private. Now from my own boyhood bodily explorations on myself- at that stage in my young life, I knew that if one "played" with ones noodle long enough, well, it sort of reached a ZING-ZOOM-ZAP. I had no word yet for that moment when all the little shuttering and jolting feelings built into one big tidal wave of electric blasts that sort of made you go numb from head to toes. Your vision too went all blurry. I had only let myself at that age go that far a few times. Getting close was pleasure enough and always nearly fainting...but what about daddy? Would he topple over? Fall into a dead faint? How would we get home? Could he drive after...it? Whatever "it" was? I watched daddy rocking about on his sleek socked toes slamming the man's head around and hearing all this gargling and slurping...and daddy moaning in blissful tones- eyes still rolling back. My small hand now wormed into my trousers. My hand loved touching myself...especially when all "alive" down there. Being cut meant I really could work my small always exposed knob. My fingers pinching it...making my knees shake. I did wonder what any passerby might think of this youth standing with his back to the shop windows, peering in holes in a drape and obviously "fiddling" while doing so. But...they could not enter the shop-it was locked, so I carried on. Let the "watcher" be "watched". I am sure I gave a few men on their way home from work something to think about on that long commute out of Boston! Now if by some miracle, one very old soul reading this recalls that strange event in that section of Boston that is no more...well, you were right...I was "doing it" to myself and loving every flipping moment! As I watched and saw how "high" daddy was from whatever magic this older man could achieve using both hands and mouth, I saw daddy's socked feet- his toes massaging the platform surface. I imagined how wonderful they'd smell tonight. I'd take them...and keep them hidden. I wanted a treasure to recall this day. I would also get something from the tailor, I had to. Some little reminder, a token of what today was for me. The day I really saw "something" not just daddy's toes at the bottom his bed with mum or partial noodle play from a window several gardens away...no this was really close and I saw and heard nearly all! I'd ask the tailor for his socks! Oh, how bold! But oh, so me-the newly emerging me! Daddy would almost surely say no. But, guilt would guide this older man, I saw the gold band...he was married I reckoned. He'd wonder what I saw or heard. He'll want to buy my "purity" and keep me happy. He'll give me his socks. I will then snatch daddy's later tonight. And keep both pairs...hidden for my own delights. And I shall revisit this moment again, and again and again! It's rather funny, but daddy stopped wearing his wedding ring before I was born. I asked him why long ago. He said, "Tony, it's just a bloody nuisance- always in my way." In his way, and I gathered that had nothing to do with office work...I came to that conclusion around this time. Daddy played many roles...and always flashing a gold band would get in the way no doubt- in the way of noodle fun! And for any reader who wonders, what about your poor mum? She was very in touch with all daddy was up to. And that's that...I do think, between us dear readers, I grew to believe in later years, his huge sexual magnetic persona with all its wild and wonderful facets- thrilled her like nothing else! And she had her own sexual facets believe you me! Everybody was a happy camper! I am trying to not say or intimate too much of what I know now at this age, almost 50 years later...my mind back then was processing the fact the old tailor seemed to like being "head rammed" into my daddy's noodle area. Daddy said, "More?" The head being now held still. The grey head nodded with vigour in the "yes" direction and daddy continued to thrust his hips back and forth and manipulate the guy's skull to and fro. The gargling, choking and gulping sounds increasing with speed...I guessed this act was benefiting both parties and neither was ready to throw in the towel. Each hip thrust of my daddy's made me watch his clenching rusty golden furred arse cheeks in those neat mirrors behind him as well as noting those socked toes really digging into the platform he stood on. Suddenly, the older man, coughed and stopped bobbing about. Daddy's noodle must have been held now just out of his tired mouth. "What? What's wrong?" Daddy asked in slight annoyance. I now know he was probably close to "blast off" and this guys stopped his flute playing. Daddy's eyes now gazed down and looked at this pleaser of manly flesh. "Turn around." The old tailor croaked still crouching before daddy like his servant. Daddy's eyes grew wide and his handsome face sported a very pleased grin. "You into that? Nice, some guys won't. I love it." He said calmly and with fluidity. More brain wheels in my young head began to spin. By turning, daddy would be arse toward the guy. And arses were for pooping-or so I thought...and I grew rather squeamish. Was daddy going to poop on the guy? Daddy's spin let me see his noodle. It was fully elongated and tipping upward, skin pulled back and his hidden knob was revealed and almost a vibrant plum colour and so reflective with wet spittle. I was very taken with its "alive" look as I called it then. So stiff and large! The spin on his socked feet took a second, his arse now faced the tailor and daddy braced his arms up on the mirror behind him. His face looked serene and his eyes closed. His legs moved apart and the tailor took his delicate fingers pulled daddy's round, tight arse cheeks apart. The rusty golden fur really catching the light in the shop now! I could also see in the mirror that daddy's noodle continued to thrum up and down in its ultra stiff, unsheathed state! I watched with beating heart and eyes like saucers as the old tailor dove nose first in between daddy's wonderful round arse cheeks. A new sight for me...another to add to my ever growing list! I heard slurping sounds and the light dawned on my ever widening young horizon. He was actually licking my daddy's hole...that little fuzzy winking hole. WOW! And my daddy's body seemed to respond with an almighty guttural moan of joy..."OOOOOOOHHHHHHH". Much more will follow from my own memoirs of watching my daddy! Feel free to write me if you enjoyed this or have read my earlier works. Thank you! Tony aka wiseoldowl@gmx.com Memoirs about my daddy's early years growing up can be read at: www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-youth/the-life-and-times-of-natural-noodle www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/natural-noodle-and-the-local-lads/ www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/incest/natural-noodle-and-friends