Date: Sat, 24 Sep 2016 13:57:02 +0000 (UTC)
From: Chesty St. Clair <biscuitsthedog@yahoo.com>
Subject: Gay Male Incest - Confessions of a Teenage Slut - Part 1

This story is a fantasy about underage kid involved in an incestuous
relationship between him, his father, his uncle and his brother.  He
frequently has sex with other boys and numerous men.  If you are offended
by gay male incest or inter-generational sex, do not read this story.


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Compliments welcome!  biscuitsthedog@yahoo.com


Confessions of a Teenage Slut


When I was growing up in the 70's, there was a sexual revolution underway,
and as a boy, I was just fascinated by sex and men. Sex was everywhere back
then.  Not like today, where sex is everywhere, people are talking about,
but no one is having it.  Sex was happening.  People didn't talk about it,
because they were having it.  People fucked.  If everyone was willing, no
one had a problem with it.  As a boy, as long as you could cum, or at least
seriously dry cum, the hormones were pumping, no one who dare say you
couldn't have sex.


Add this in to the fact I wasn't raised like a normal kid.  My dad was an
Italian-American, born in Italy. Dad moved to the US when he was 15, with
his brother, who was 18, who came here to go to college, and stayed.  Dad
followed, as Italy had few opportunities, and at 15 back then you were
considered a man.  By the time dad was 18, and with his brother's help, he
finished high school, spoke perfect English and got a girl pregnant with a
boy that would end up being my brother Anthony.  By the time he was 20, I
was on the way, and he was bolted down with a wife, a house and a
construction job.  Growing up, the first 10 years were pretty uneventful
and I think that's what ended my parents marriage.  I look back now, my
mother was only 28, in the middle of Ohio, and restless to see what was
beyond I-77.  I just remember that it seemed one day she was there, and the
next day she wasn't.  I remember hearing her tell dad that we were of the
age that we could take care of ourselves.  She done her time.  Dad
agreed. I assumed he felt just as trapped, as there was no tears, just a
certain relief.  She moved to Oregon, and I never really heard from her
again.  The first day she was gone, seemed no different then the day
before, just freer.


Dad, Anthony and I were a lot a like, same stupid silly sense of humor,
same mannerisms, same love of nudity.  I would say that would be the first
notable difference, once mom was gone, us wearing clothes stopped.  Dad
came home from work, and many times would strip to his boxers.  That first
day, dad came home, he looked at my brother and I, and said, no ladies
here, so I guess I don't need these and off went the boxers.  My brother
didn't even need to be asked, his boxers went flying and so did mine.  The
3 of us giggled over the nudity and new found freedom.  I had seen both my
brother and dad naked before, as we were never shy about being naked.  But
now I could really just stare at their dicks.  Seeing dad's big hairy adult
dick was incredibly fascinating to me.  It seemed to me the ultimate in
manhood.  I wondered if I would get that big, get all those pubes, and have
that scent I could smell especially when he would come home sweaty from
work.  My brother was on the verge of puberty when we started hanging
naked. Everyday his dick would seem bigger, more adult.  When we were
younger, and would compare dicks, the difference didn't seem that much, but
now he looked like my 12 yo brother, with an adult dick with a small almost
mustache of a few pubes above, flopping between his legs. Needless to say,
the sights, and scents were wrecking havoc with my young body.  I was
constantly hard and had no shame in it. If dad caught me looking at his
dick, he would smile, grab it a little and wink at me.  All it would do it
is make my 10 yo boy dick throb even more. lol.


I would say less than a month after mom moved out, dad initiated one of the
first main changes in our living arrangement.  Dad told Anthony and I that
he wanted the 2 of us to share a bedroom.  We had a 3 bedroom house, and so
it wasn't necessary, but dad explained that he and his brother, shared a
bed growing up in Italy and even after moving to the US, and how close it
made the two of them.  He said that long after he was gone, Anthony and I
would have each other.  Dad didn't mention sex, or anything of that nature.
I was kind of naive, as I didn't even think how dad and his brother must
have been screwing all those years in Italy and college here.  And now
looking back, I could not have been more grateful to him for doing
this. While dad taught me a lot about sex growing up, my brother is who I
ended up having the most sex with, and still continue to this day.
Something about being so close to someone all those years, makes an
inseparable bond.


Dad bought my brother and I twin beds are first, my brother and I didn't
start sharing a bed until I turned 13 (and didn't stop sharing that bed
until he left for college).  My brother just started cumming when we
started sharing the bedroom and he loved playing with his dick, and loved
to show it off to me.  He'd show me how hard it would get, show me how far
he could shoot his cum.  He taught me the meaning of cum, that it wasn't
just the stuff from his penis, but feeling he would have while cumming.  He
showed me how to play with him dick, so I could orgasm, and told me how the
cum would shoot when I got older.  I asked him if he thought dad was
"cumming" and "playing with himself" he of course said yes, that all men
do, even if they say they don't.  He told me about he would jerk off with
friends at school and they would see who could cum the furthest, the
fastest and things like that.  But all I could always think was, I wanted
to see dad cum.  I wanted to see how he made his penis shoot.  Did he make
the same face as Anthony as he came?  What could he tell me about cocks,
and cum?  I saw dad rock hard at times, even his cock drool, but never the
money shot.  I became strangely obsessed with him and his dick.  One of the
things we were not shy about was showering together.  I had showered with
dad many times, and even my brother.  Dad worked early during the week,
though on the weekends, I would at times jump in the shower with him, as I
would like to wash his back and I liked rubbing his soapy body.  Many times
I would get so rock hard washing him down.  Dad would say nothing and
smile.  Rinse and jump out of the shower.  I remember one time I thought to
myself, I am just going to go for it.  My heart was racing, my soapy hand
gliding over his back, sliding lower, hitting his buttocks, down his
muscular thighs.  I purposely dropped the soap, and angled myself so that
as straighten up, his dick would be in my face.  I just stopped and looked
up at him.  The tension was incredible, I placed my soapy hand on his thigh
and you could see he was straining not to get hard and it wasn't working.
I glided my hand to his penis and cupped his manhood and massive balls.
Dad was now as hard as I was.  His breathing was labored, and I just
stroked.  Did like my brother showed me to do to myself, but was doing it
to dad.  He moaned, groaned, but didn't ask me to stop.  In maybe all of 2
minutes, my dad goes, fuck son, I am going to cum, it's going to shoot,
it's going to shoot.  I just kept staring at his cock, red, massive,
throbbing, balls pulled tight.  Fuckkkkkkk, I heard him, and pow, ropes of
cum begin spraying out.  I remember it as it was in slow motion.  I could
see the rope being created and sprayed out of his cock cannon, heading
right towards my face.  Splat, across my face the first rope lands, the
second rope splashes close to the first, and across my open mouth.  The
sweet salty taste enlivens my taste buds.  I just kept pulling dad's dick,
he just kept cumming, first saying how good it feels, then saying how good
it felt, as he almost collapsed from the pleasure I gave him.  His gaze
locked on to my cum covered face and mouth.  I remember dad regaining his
composure, and both of us trying to assess what just happened.  The only
sounds heard were dad's panting and the water going down the drain.  Dad
looked down again and gave me the biggest smile.  He helped me to my feet
and lovingly washed the cum off my face.  He told me what a good son I was
and how proud was of me.  I told him how Anthony showed me how to play my
dick and showed me how he could cum, but I wanted to see him cum.  Dad
smiled and told me that it was a-ok as he would say.


I was then hooked.  Hooked on making men cum.  I loved how good I got to
make my dad feel.  I loved having that "power" of having his manhood in my
hand.


After that, on the weekends, if I heard dad's shower, I was quick to slip
in.  He would smile, his cock would stiffen, and he would hand me the soap.


It didn't take long before I got to learn all about dad's and my brother's
cocks, and learn about men's cocks in general.  It didn't take long before
I got to blow dad and Anthony, and in a matter of months after, we were
fucking like rabbits in heat.  As I release more of these stories, I will
focus usually on an event (like dad taking us to Cedar Point), or a person
(like the sexual relationship that developed between my uncle and I.)  I
will do my best to keep the timeline even and tell a story that needs to be
told.  A time that you could be a young teen and trusted to be in control
of your sex life.  I was a young teen that craved sex, and got all he could
and loved every minute of it.  This story is dedicated to all the men out
there that knows what is like to have a family member slide on them in the
middle of the night, pull him close and beg him not to stop in heat of
passion.