Date: Thu, 12 Aug 2004 05:32:51 +0200
From: Xerxys Hunter <writer_xerxys@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Father's Son: Camping Part One

DISCLAIMER: This is a complete work of fiction, involving sexual acts
between same-sex relations. If it is illegal for you to read such material,
please leave.

With college firmly out of the way, I was looking forward to spending the
summer just relaxing, enjoying the fact that my years of education were now
behind me. I'd not done too badly in my classes, although I was nowhere near
being the top of the class; but I'd done well enough to make my father proud
of me.

After losing mom three years earlier, it had been a blow when I also had to
leave for college, and I'd never seen a man so relieved as on my graduation
day. I think he was more pleased about me finishing school than I was. To
celebrate, the first week of `freedom' as my dad called it was going to be
spent camping out in the local national park. It had been an annual ritual
when I had been younger, but had just kind of stopped after I hit puberty
and started to find my own things to keep me interested.

Puberty had been a very good time for me, much better than for most, and by
the age of twelve I was already looking like a fifteen-year-old. My
Italian-American heritage had put me in good stead, and it was plain to see
that I was my father's son, receiving most of my characteristics from his
end of the gene pool. I had the thick black hair, which by now was also
growing thickly across my chest and stomach, as well as a nice neat bush
around my cut cock, which was relatively short, at only six inches, but was
as thick as a beercan. This had caused me to get quite a lot of abuse from
fellow students when I was in high school and had to share the showers after
gym, but I found it was more than an advantage in college, where I
discovered the pleasure of fucking my roommate's hot ass.

Max and I had been on the swimming team together, and so in the second year
had shared a room. One night we'd got roaring drunk, and I'd passed out,
only to wake up a little later to find Max playing with me through my
shorts. At first I'd wrested him to the ground, ready to give him a pair of
black eyes, but as I sat astride him, staring into his fear-stricken face,
my fist raised ready to attack, I realised that I was rock-hard, and getting
off on seeing Max so scared of me. I'd then smothered him with my sweaty
crotch, sitting on his face and calling him my little gay bitch, before
face-fucking him and blowing a load down his throat. He'd obviously already
had experience, but had never been subjected to taking a cock that he could
barely fit in his mouth. For the last year of college I'd learnt almost all
the tricks of gay sex, both giving and receiving. Max's tight little ass had
been the first ass I'd ever fucked. I'd almost `split him in two,' as he had
screamed whilst I shoved it up him, but by graduation, he was taking it like
a pro. Also, Max's slender, eight-inch tool had been the first dick I'd ever
been fucked with or sucked, and with practice, I'd mastered the art of
deepthroating, and had been able to bring Max off in seconds with my throat
action.

I also grew to love cottaging. Being on the swimming team, I was always in
and out of the sports centre, and would often use their toilets on my way
back from training, as it was a half-mile walk back to my room. Usually I
only stopped in to use the urinals, but one time I wasn't feeling too well,
and thought I was going to throw up. I rushed into one of the toilet
cubicles and waited, knelt over the bowl, but the feeling soon passed. As I
stood up, though, I was greeted to the sight of a nice plump 7-incher poking
through the cubicle partition. It was uncut, with the excess skin gathered
around the bulging red head, and had a severe curve to it, pointing directly
up towards the ceiling. All thoughts of my nausea had vanished then as I
dove onto the cock, and sucked it as though my life depended on it.
Deepthroating a dick that was so strongly curved was a difficult job and I
almost did end up throwing up at one point. But I soon got the hang of it,
however, and within a minute I was rewarded with a wad twice the size I'd
ever shot myself, or Max had ever unloaded on or in me.

After that, my twice-weekly swimming practices were always finished with me
sucking some anonymous dick in the sport's centre toilets.

Swimming had also helped me develop a nice slim body that had just the right
amount of muscle on it. I had developed a nice pair of pecs, giving me just
enough `shelf' to be able to wear tight white T-shirts and draw looks from
all my fellow students. My ass was also one of my favourite body-parts, too.
Like Max's, swimming had built mine up into high, tight and round globes of
muscle. I loved packing those buttocks into the tightest shrink-washed jeans
I could get away with, which also showed off my dick, which was fat and
fleshy even when it was soft, to perfection. I really got off on the
attention, and by the time I'd reached graduation, I'd worked through the
entire gay and bisexual male student population, as well as once sucking off
my English lecturer, before he was fired for playing around with another
student.

Even though I'd only been out of college for a couple of weeks before going
on the camping trip with dad, I already missed my almost daily fuck-and-suck
sessions with Max and numerous other students, and now found myself
constantly horny. This I was worried about, as I knew that I'd be sharing a
three-man tent with dad.

But driving out into the hills, this was soon forgotten as my dad and I
talked like adults for the first time in my life. The time away from him had
made him realise just how much I'd grown up when I had come home, and I now
felt more like one of dad's buddies. Dad had a lot of friends, and was a
real `man's-man,' and he was always going to poker games with them, or
around the house getting drunk on a Friday evening with them, even when mum
had been alive.

As we drove into the hills, we talked mainly about the two years that we'd
hardly seen each other, and what had changed and happened in that time. I
gave him edited accounts of my college life, and Max became Christine, my
steady girlfriend that I'd broken up with just before graduation.

"Did you fuck her, Alex?" His bluntness took me aback, and I looked over at
him, gaping. "Don't look at me like that, boy. You're old enough to be
talked to like a man, now, so that's what I'm doing. So, did you fuck her?"

"Well" Er... Yeah," came my stammered reply. Dad chuckled to himself,
running his fingers through his goatee.

"That's my boy. I was fucking girls by the time I was in college, too. Mind
you, I was never really one for steady girlfriends at that time. This dick,"
he said as he clutched his crotch to emphasise his point, "Needed a lot more
than just one person to keep it satisfied back then. Wasn't until I met your
mother that I stopped fooling around."

I quickly moved the subject on from girls and sex, as not only was I worried
about tripping up on my story, but also talking about sex with my dad still
seemed really strange. For the last hour and a half of the drive,
conversation was light, and we were talking like old friends by the time we
reached our spot.

Parking the car in the dusty lay-by, we transferred all our provisions to
our backpacks before locking up the car and setting off into the woods. This
area of the park was little-used by campers as it had no amenities, and you
really had to know how to rough it to put up with more than a couple of days
here. My dad and I had been coming to this same spot since I was five, and
we were both experienced campers.

We spent most of the afternoon hiking through the thick woodland, using
natural trails to allow us easy passage through the trees, until we reached
the ridge of `our' valley. I recognised the surrounding view, with its
foothills in every direction, as though it were my home, and within half an
hour we were down in the clearing by a small, freshwater pond that we always
used. It was peaceful, miles from anywhere, and faced due south, so we got
the full heat from the sun.

Setting up camp, we slipped back into our practised roles as though we'd
only been here the previous week. As dad sorted out the tent, which was a
brand new, carbon-rod type design, like the ones used by arctic explorers
and the like, and far easier to assemble than our old one, I dug out the
fire pit. It was still there from our previous camping trips, but was now
just a small depression filled with grass, whilst the large stones that
circled it were beginning to moss over.

By the time I had dug the fire pit and found enough kindling and wood to
start the fire off, dad had fully set up the tent and the sleeping bags, as
well as getting our food for the evening meal ready.

"I'm too tired to fish today, son, so we'll be dipping into our rations. I'm
not as young as I used to be." Dad and I always used to start the week by
fishing for our first dinner, wading out to the side of the fair-sized pool
and catching the fish that lived there.

"Don't worry, dad, I'm a bit tired, too. I must be out of practice." Dad
looked over at me, grinning coyly.

"A lad in your shape? Get out of here. Wait until you get to 43, like me,
then you try hiking four miles with half a campsite on your back."

We kept ourselves in high spirits, joking and talking as we got the fire
going and began to cook our meal of tinned beef stew with boil-in-the-bag
rice. Although it was still only four o'clock in the afternoon, we wolfed
down our food, and then I took our dirty crockery and pots down to the pool
and washed hem out.

Upon returning, I was met with the sight of my dad all but naked. We always
wore jeans on the hike to protect our legs from gnats, but the clearing was
relatively gnat-free as the pool was fed by a spring a few miles up the
valley. On our previous camping trips, most of the week we wore shorts and
went topless, allowing the sun to darken our olive skin; it was just our
routine.

Dad had stripped down to his socks and jockstrap, and the first thing to
cross my mind was `what a nice body.' I immediately felt ashamed for
thinking that, but I continued to stare at my dad nonetheless as he pulled
on a pair of small, tight running shorts and took off his socks. He was
fairly muscular, as he used to visit the gym regularly when mum had been
alive, but the once-defined muscles were now covered by a layer of fat,
softening them, but giving him a stockier, heftier look. He had also
developed a small beergut, thanks to his regular drinking sessions with his
buddies, but it didn't detract from the look of him; in fact, it added to
the sight.

He was also immensely hairy, but not untidily so. A thick mat of dark hair
swirled over his broad chest and slightly bulged belly, disappearing into
the waistline of his shorts. His legs and forearms were also covered with
black hair, adding to his masculine presence.

"What are you gawping at, boy? Come and change into your shorts, you must be
cooking alive in those jeans." Suddenly snapping out of my daydream, I felt
myself flush bright red as I disappeared into the tent to get my shorts.
Also, more worryingly, my dick had started to swell a little, getting
harder, but I put that down to the fact that I'd only had my hand as relief
for the past fortnight, and anything could have set me off at that point.

I changed in the tent, which was large enough to allow me to stand while
only stooping a little, as my dick refused to soften in my briefs as I
undressed, and I didn't want to risk my father seeing his son springing a
boner.

"What you changing in there for, Alex? No one out here but me, and you
haven't got anything I haven't seen before, you know." I laughed, trying to
keep the tone light to prevent my father getting suspicious.

"Dad! Quit it; it just saves me bringing my jeans back in here," I said,
passing it off as I walked back out into the sunshine, barefoot and topless,
like my father, in a small pair of running shorts. My dick was still
threatening to stiffen to full erection, and as I looked at my father,
laying prostrate on his back, his eyes shielded with one arm from the sun, I
felt it twitch and throb once more. I began to panic, worrying what dad
would do if he caught me getting hard.

"Uh, look dad, I'm going to go walk off my dinner. I'm only going to go back
up to the ridge, so I won't need a compass, and I'll be back in an hour."
Without taking his arm from across his face, he reached down with his other
hand and lazily scratched his balls, making my cock throb again, and to my
horror I could feel myself becoming fully hard.

"No problem, son. Just don't go getting lost, I don't fancy doing any more
walking today, especially to have to come looking for you." By this time, I
had already grabbed my trainers from inside the tent and was heading for the
trees, fleeing from my father, who was unwittingly tripping my switches.

"OK!" I called back as I disappeared into the trees, my dick raging in my
shorts.

As I marched through the trees, heading slowly upwards, all I could think
about was my own father, and the sight of him laid flat on the ground, his
hairy, olive-skinned body almost fully-exposed to me. My mind kept flashing
images of his chest, his arms, his hairy beergut, but what dominated my mind
was that straining jockstrap. I knew that I could fill a jock with no
problem, but my dad's had been full to bursting, and the form of his dick,
long and fat, had been clearly visible as it pressed against the fabric,
curled over two heavy bull-balls.

After fifteen minutes I stopped to catch my breath. My heart was racing and
I could now feel a damp, sticky patch at the front of my tented shorts,
pushed out by my hard, chunky dick.

Unable to hold out any longer, I frantically pushed my shorts and jockstrap
down to my ankles, and clasped hold of my dick, squeezing it hard and
sighing with relief as I milked a gluey trickle of precum for the large
slit. My hand had never been able to completely encircle my dick, and I even
had trouble encompassing its girth when it was soft without squeezing hard,
but today it seemed fatter and bigger than ever before. I'd only beaten off
that morning, but here I was, halfway up a hillside, stroking my cock that
felt as though I hadn't cum in a month.

I began to jack myself off, while images of my own father still swirled in
my mind. I tried to think of all my other experiences; of Max, of my English
lecture, of those numerous anonymous dicks from the sports centre bathrooms.
But they all were pushed aside by thoughts of dad in his jockstrap, dad laid
flat on the ground, dad scratching his balls, dad fucking my...

I suddenly collapsed to my knees with a thundering orgasm before I could
fully materialise that last, most taboo, image in my mind, and as I volleyed
five thick loads of cum in thick ropes across the ground before me, I began
to cry. Tears of fear ran down my face, as feelings that I didn't understand
overwhelmed me. It was then that I realised my left knee had struck a rock
as I'd collapsed, and now I began to cry harder, the shooting pain that was
now radiating from my knee mixing with my confused thoughts, my climax
completely forgotten.

After ten minutes or so I pulled myself together. I went to rub the tears
from my eyes, but too late realised that my fingers were still covered in my
slime, and my left eye began burning in pain. I wiped my hand on a bush that
grew beside me; then wiped the smear of cum and tears from my face, before
cleaning my flaccid dick as best as I could before standing up and pulling
up my shorts and jockstrap. Now I was able to look at the damage I'd done to
my knee, although only through my right eye, as the left was clamped tightly
shut and streaming. My knee throbbed with pain, and already a thick trail of
blood was running down my shin.

Feeling thoroughly miserable, I limped slowly back down the hillside, barely
able to support myself on my right leg, and almost falling three times.

When I got back into the clearing, I headed straight for the pool and walked
all the way in, up to my waist. I not only wanted to clean my knee out of
any dirt and grime that was in there, but also to disguise the damp patch
that was still spread across the front of my shorts.

"Hey, Alex. You're back quick. What are you doing, son? You only had a bath
this morning!" My father called to me from the shore as I washed the traces
of cum from my left eye, then washed all of myself. I felt dirty, and I
wanted to forget.

"Oh, I fell and split my knee open on a rock. It hurts like hell, and I'm
just getting the crap out of the wound, dad."

"Well, what are you doing splashing around like that, then? It's only your
knee, isn't it?" I finished washing myself, but dared not turn around. I
didn't want to look at my dad, and I felt ashamed at that.

"I went down pretty hard. I got a face full of leaf-mould. I'm just cleaning
it off."

When I had finally mustered the courage to return to the campsite, my dad
was sat up on his elbows, looking at my knee with a troubled look.

"Looks pretty bad, son. I thought I heard you call out, but you must have
been quite a way up the ridge, as I wasn't sure." It occurred to me then
that I must have cried out as I reached orgasm, and my face flushed. "Come
over here and let me see it. Better make sure it doesn't need a dressing."

I walked over to my father, and he sat upright, and then grabbed the back of
my knee firmly. This contact sent a shiver down my spine, and at once I
began to imagine myself thrusting my dripping crotch into his face, making
him take my cock as I had done to Max the first time we had had sex.

"It's fine, dad, honestly," I protested, breaking free of his grip and going
back into the tent, returning with a book I'd packed for the journey. I sat
the opposite side of the campfire from my father, and as he settled back
down to do some more sunbathing, I attempted to absorb myself in my book,
but could get no further than four pages in half an hour. My eyes were
constantly drawn to my father's body, and at this angle I could just see a
glimpse of his jockstrap beneath his shorts.

His bulge was incredible. Simply laid back like that, it pushed upwards from
his crotch, pulling the fabric of his shorts smooth over the mound of flesh
beneath. Soon my father was lightly snoring, and I was able to gaze at him
more freely. His stomach, with its slight bulge, rose and fell rhythmically,
and I traced the thick trail of hair that ran down the centre of his belly
and into his shorts with my eyes. He shifted a little as he dozed, his arm
sliding from his face and his legs parting slightly. This allowed me an even
better view up one of the legs of his shorts, and I could see the taut
fabric of his jockstrap, which had masses of coarse black pubic hair pouring
from beneath it. I imagined my father's hairy low-hangers, and felt myself
becoming erect again.

To divert my mind from the sight of my father, I got up and decided to go
fetch some more firewood. I kept my mind filled with other thoughts, and by
the time I returned to camp, it was getting dusky and dad was clearing up
around the tent, ready for bed.

"Hey there, Alex. Wondered where you'd got to." I dropped the armful of
thick branches and dusted myself off.

"Sorry, it took me longer than I expected, what with this damn knee."

"How's it doing? Not too painful I hope?"

"No, it's almost fine now; just a little tender to walk on."

"I'm glad. Anyway, I'm almost ready to turn in for the night, son. How about
you?" I checked my watch, and it was already nine o'clock. I realised that
I'd been out, wandering around the forest, collecting wood for two hours,
and I was suddenly struck by a wave of exhaustion.

"Oh yeah. I got a bit carried away collecting firewood, and I'm beat now."

Dad stepped into the tent as I piled the spare firewood next to the tent,
ready for the morning. When I entered the tent, I almost walked face-first
into my own father's hairy ass. He was bent down, pulling off his jockstrap,
and I quickly backed up, hoping that he hadn't heard me entering.

"Sorry, son, you can come in now. Didn't mean to give you a show there." He
had heard me. I could have died, but I calmly walked into the tent, seeing
my dad just as he slid into his sleeping bag. Had I been another second
earlier, I thought, I would have seen his cock, naked and swinging free in
front of those hairy low-hangers.

I mentally scolded myself for thinking such things, and just got undressed
as quickly as possible, with my back to my father, before sliding into my
own sleeping bag. With the tent being a three-man design, we had a large
space between our two bags, where we kept our rucksacks. I was pleased that
there was such a large gap between us, as I no longer trusted myself around
my own father.

For about half an hour we lay in the dwindling light of the evening,
chatting about nothing in particular, until it was almost too dark to see,
and we bid each other good night. As my father's silence became light
snores, I lay in my sleeping bag, staring directly ahead, trying to make
sense of it all. It was just the fact that I was really horny without my
regular sessions with Max, I told myself. But as I drifted into troubled
sleep, I knew I was kidding myself.

The next day I felt much more relaxed. We didn't stray far from camp, but
kept ourselves occupied, chatting like friends and enjoying the peace. In
the late afternoon we decided to catch some fish for dinner, and dad
retrieved two lines from his rucksack. For the next two hours we stood,
knee-deep in the pool, casting our lines and slowly collecting that
evening's meal. Most of the fish were only small, but once in a while we
would hook a fair-sized one, and added it to our growing pile on the bank.
We then sat, industriously gutting the fish, and then slowly steamed them
over the fire, and boiled some more rice to go with them.

Just as I was serving up our simple meal, dad disappeared into the tent, and
then returned with a bottle of whiskey.

"I thought that seeing how you're a man now, and that you've finished
college, we could celebrate with a little liquor. You ever had alcohol
before, son?" I'd frequently shared a bottle of liquor or a crate of beer
with Max when I'd been in college, and didn't feel the need to lie to my dad
about this.

"Yeah. I drink beer quite often, and I quite like whiskey, but I prefer
vodka," I replied, smiling. Dad raised an eyebrow, a little surprised at my
honesty, and chuckled.

"Well, seems you've done a lot of growing up in college. Fetch us a couple
of beakers, boy."

As we ate our dinner, we started to work our way through the whiskey, and by
the end of the meal I already felt a little light-headed. Dad drank a lot
faster than I, but seemed none the worse for it. Our conversation flowed
easily, lubricated by the alcohol, and by seven o'clock we had finished the
bottle and were both pretty drunk.

"So, Alex. This girl of yours... What was her name?"

"Christine," I lied, after a moment's pause.

"Was she good-looking?" Dad was grinning drunkenly as he sat on his
haunches, knowing that I was still a little uncomfortable talking about my
`girlfriend,' even though he didn't know the real reason why.

"Yeah... She was really stunning."

"Did you give it to her often?" I shifted a little, uneasy with the
conversation. "Come on, it's your old man your talking to here. We've both
had a bit to drink; it's fine."

"Well, we used to do it most days. A few times, if I was really horny." Dad
threw his head back, bellowing with laughter.

"That's my boy! Good to see you're like your old man. I could go two, three
times a day when I was younger. I used to fuck whatever I could lay my hands
on. I bet you're like that too, ain't you, boy?" In my drunken state, it
took me a little while to figure out what my dad was implying, and for a
moment I sat, staring at him blankly, trying to work it out. "Come on, son,
are you telling me you've never fooled around with a guy when you were
really needing it? I sure as hell have. I mean, fuck, a hole's a hole,
right?" I was shocked. I could barely believe it. My dad was openly
admitting to me that he'd fooled around with other guys. My head was
swimming, but the alcohol was putting words in my mouth.

"Well, yeah dad. I've fooled around with guys before, but..."

"Don't you worry about it, son. There's nothing to be ashamed of. You've got
the family jewels, boy, and they need a lot of attention. Sometimes you're
mother couldn't keep up with my demands, so we had a little arrangement."

"Whoa, dad, I don't need to know. I can guess what you're saying, but that
stuff's private." I'd never heard dad talking like this before, and it had
caught me completely off-balance; being drunk wasn't helping me either.

"Hey, like I said, we need a lot of attention. I mean," dad paused as he
groggily hauled himself to his feet. Then, he suddenly pulled down his
shorts, letting his cock and balls flop heavily against his thigh. "Look at
this, boy. This thing needs more than just one person can give." I was
dumbstruck. My father was stood not four feet away from me, showing me his
mighty cock. It was soft, but it was still as long as mine was hard, and as
thick as mine is flaccid. "Come on, son, let's see if you've inherited your
dad's meat."

Everything was moving so fast for me. But as I watched his fat dick and
low-hanging, hairy bull-balls, I rose to my feet and without thinking
lowered my own shorts. My dad inspected my cock, tilting his head to one
side like a curious dog, and gave a low whistle.

"I bet you've made some people scream with that thing, boy. Good to see that
you got the best of your old man's genes." With that, my dad stepped out of
his shorts and jockstrap and began sprinting towards the pool. "Come on,
son, take a dip," he called back as he splashed into the water. "I was
starting to get a little hot and bothered back there, and if you're anything
like me, you are too." He was right. The only reason I hadn't begun getting
hard was due to the alcohol, and a plunge in the cold water would do me
good. I stripped off my shorts and ran towards the water, feeling my limp
dick and hefty bollocks bouncing around between my thighs.

The cold water was like a punch in the guts in my drunken state, and for a
moment I couldn't catch my breath. Soon, though, I was swimming around the
clear pool, enjoying the feeling of my genitals floating freely beneath me.

"I'm getting damned horny, son. How about you?" My father was stood in the
centre of the pool, with the water up to his nipples, and although I
couldn't see from where I was, by the movements of his arm I guessed he was
playing with himself. "It's perfectly natural, son. I bet you've beaten off
more times than you've had hot meals, am I right?" I nodded weakly, stunned
at my father's brazen behaviour, but I stopped swimming and stood a little
way from him. Stood up, I was able to see the distorted form of his cock,
which appeared to be getting hard, with his hand wrapped around it. The
ripples of the water made it hard to see properly, but it was already
looking huge.

"Dad, this isn't right. I'm horny too, yeah, but this is freaking me out."

"And I know why you're horny, boy," my dad said, his eyes focused on mine
and his voice now lower, more ominous. "I saw you watching me yesterday.
Watched me getting into those skimpy little shorts that showed off my big
package. Then you went and beat off in the woods, didn't you?" I stood stone
still, not daring to say anything. "Yeah, you beat off in the woods thinking
about your old man. I heard you call out."

"But... I fell..." I replied weakly.

"You don't shout like that when you fall over, boy. Don't you try and kid
your old man. I've got 25 years on you, and I've done it all. Now answer me,
you were beating off in the woods, thinking about your old man, weren't
you?"

"Y... Yes, dad." I hung my head, completely ashamed of myself. "But I tried
not to. It's wrong, and I know that."

"Didn't stop you coming back and copping a good look at your old man again
though, did it? You thought I was asleep, that I didn't see you while you
were `reading' your book. You spent more time looking up my shorts than you
did at that book, didn't you?"

"Yes, dad."

"So, you like men then, Alex? You like them better than women? And don't
lie. I know you've been lying about this Christine." The look on my face was
enough to answer his questions, and I remained silent, feeling like a
five-year-old. "What about your old man, Alex? You like him? You like his
body?"

"Dad, I don't know what to think." I looked at him, but my eyes were drawn
down to his cock, which I could see him slowly stroking beneath the water.

"I think you know exactly what to think, son. I think you know exactly what
to do, too." I looked at my father, aghast. "Don't play innocent with me,
boy. You're anything but. Now come here and show your father the respect he
deserves." I stayed where I was, rooted to the spot, too fearful that this
was some cruel hoax.

"COME HERE, BOY!" roared my father. Suddenly my feet carried me forward,
into the deeper water, and before I knew it I was stood inches away from my
father, the two of us naked, my father stroking his erection. My own cock
was still soft, my mind too filled with fear and confusion to think about
anything else. "Now, Alex, show your father the respect that I deserve."

With that, I felt myself being pushed beneath the water, and my face was
pushed up against my own father's rock-hard cock. I panicked, imagining
myself drowning by my own father's hand, and flailed helplessly beneath the
water, until I felt myself being dragged up to the surface.

"Don't worry, son." My dad's voice was now softer again, and the look in his
eyes was now pleading. I felt the head of his cock pressing into my groin,
and he thrust it against me a little harder as he spoke, emphasising his
words. "I won't let anything happen to you, Alex. You're my son and I love
you. We both have needs that we can help each other out with. Help your old
man, son." And with that he leant forward and kissed me. I'd never been
kissed by anyone with a goatee before, and it felt strange, but in a good
way. My father's soft fat tongue rolled around my mouth, playing with my
own, and I soon felt myself melting to my father's passionate embrace. I
pulled myself in close to him, his hard, thick cock pressed against my
stomach as my own cock quickly swelled and throbbed to its full size,
pushing itself against my father's thighs. He opened his legs a little to
allow me to slide my cock between them, then closed them again, trapping my
hard fat dick as I began pumping my hips back and forth a little.

Then, tenderly breaking our kiss, my dad took a step back and placed his
hands upon my shoulders, and gently pushed me beneath the water. I went
willingly this time, and I quickly took hold of my dad's dick and began
shoving his head between my lips.

It was so unbelievably big. I had both my hands wrapped around its girth by
now, and they were having a hard time meeting around the baseball-bat
thickness of his shaft. By the time I finally had managed to fit his head
into my mouth, I was in serious need of air, and so reluctantly pulled off
my dad's cock and came back up to the surface.

"Can we go back to the tent? I'll be able to do this a lot better there,
dad." He looked at me, smiling.

"That's a damn big dick, isn't it son? Finding it too much for you?"

"No, it's amazing, but I'll be able to suck it a lot better if I don't have
to keep coming up for air every ten seconds." My dad laughed heartily then
pulled me close to him in a bearhug, kissing me passionately once again.

"Come on, then."

Once ashore, dad lay down on the grass in front of the fire that was now
starting to dwindle. I was now able to fully appreciate his tool, which was
easily thirteen inches long, and far thicker than mine was.

"Fucking hell, dad, it's huge."

"Yeah, son. I'm damn big. Now suck on that dick, boy, and get me real
horny."

I dropped to my hands and knees, straddling my dad's groin. With one hand,
my father raised the mighty tool to my lips, and I flicked my tongue over
the firm, smooth head, tasting his precum. I then opened my mouth as wide as
I could get it, and engulfed his throbbing glans within the warmth of my
mouth.

"Mmm, yeah, son, that feels good. Suck on your dad's dick. Take this
monster."

I sucked hard on his head, my mouth slowly filling with his viscous precum,
which I swallowed down like nectar. Dad began bucking his hips upwards
slightly, beating his huge blunt head against the back of my throat. I had
never taken a dick anywhere near this size before, and was unsure of whether
it would even fit into my throat, but I wanted to give my dad the best
blowjob I knew how to give. Relaxing my gag reflex, I dove down onto his
rigid prong and suddenly the head was forced into my gullet, expanding my
throat to accommodate the incredible size. I held it there for as long as I
could, allowing my gullet to get used to the size, until I withdrew it back
into my mouth again, sucking in breath through my nose.

"Fuck, boy, that's good. Don't stop now, you're doing just fine." Pleased
with my father's praise, I wedged his cock back down my throat, sinking it
even further inside me. I must have been impaled one around ten of his
enormous inches now, with three of those down my throat. I kept swallowing,
which both massaged dad's hard shaft and head, and pulled him deeper inside
my mouth, before retreating off his length once more, gulping for breath.

"Oh my god, Alex, you're amazing. Fuck, that's feels so good. Yeah, eat your
dad's fat meat. Take it all."

As I deepthroated dad's beast for a third time, I drove myself right down
onto the entire length. It was so wide at the base that my teeth were
digging into his massive, throbbing root, but I stayed there, once again
massaging his shaft, six inches of which were buried deep within my throat.

Slowly removing him into my mouth, I ran my tongue along the shaft as it
slid from between my lips, tracing over the bulging veins that supplied this
giant with the blood that kept it as hard as stone. I then soon worked up a
rhythm, bobbing my head up and down along dad's length; with each stroke I
would manage to swallow almost all of his mighty dick, and soon I could tell
he was getting ready to cum, which made me suck even harder and faster.

"Oh, yeah... Fucking hell... Ungh... Ungh... Oh... Fuck... Alex, I'm...
Alex... Oh, Alex!" Dad grabbed hole of my head with both hands, plunging me
all the way down onto his fat rod as he came. Within my throat, it swelled
even larger and harder for a second, bucking strongly as I felt the first
copious volley of cum, a river of white-hot jizz, flooded directly into my
stomach. I quickly pulled off his length until only his head was filling my
mouth, still swallowing down the deluge of his first wad, as a second blast,
just as big as the first, surged into my mouth. The amount was incredible,
and within a moment it was spurting from the edges of my lips, my mouth
unable to contain the torrent of my father's thick bullslime.

Again and again, dad shot gluey wads of his seed into my mouth. I drank down
as much as I was able, but the excess ran down my chin in waves, dropping
with great splashes onto his hairy bollocks, which were pulled up tight
against the root of his jerking shaft. After ten full loads of his cream,
dad's orgasm finally subsided, and I fell from his cock, collapsing onto his
heaving stomach, gasping for breath, my face drenched with his cum. His dick
flopped down in front of my face, and I leant forward, suckling on the head
that was still oozing globs of sticky goo from the long gaping slit.

"Alex, where did you learn to suck dick like that? I've never cum so much in
my life, boy. That was amazing. I thought I was going to drain half a gallon
of seed into your face." I simply laid on top of my father, my head resting
upon his slight beergut that heaved up and down in heavy breaths, sucking
the last few drops of his precious cum from his softening dick. My own cock
was throbbing, aching for a release of its own, but I ignored it, my mind
still reeling from the inundation of senses I was feeling.

"It's your turn next, son," purred my father as he gently stroked my face
with his large, powerful hand.

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