Date: Wed, 19 Dec 2012 19:35:38 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob
Subject: Dad, the Man

In the early spring of 1995 when I was 31, I flew down to Arizona to visit
my parents who had moved there for their retirement a few years before.
Since Dad's retirement from his aerospace job in Seattle, they decided to
give up their status as winter "snowbirds" and move down full time.
Although I didn't really see them that much back home in Seattle, I still
missed them, especially my dad. He had a strong head on his shoulders, as
you can imagine for an engineer. I often counted on him for straight-laced,
prudent advice whenever I asked for it. He never interfered in my life, but
he was there if I needed him. He was accepting of my homosexuality (I came
out to my parents while in college), and I could tell he tried not to come
across as too judgmental. You might say he was a typical modern American
male from the 1960s generation.

In some ways he was more upfront about my sexuality than mom. She had
accepted my coming out with open arms and kisses, yet over the years she
had shied from asking me questions about who I was dating. Dad, on the
other hand, always wanted to know what was going on with my personal
life. Sadly, I had very little to tell him. My love life had not been all
that great. At that point I had given up even trying to look for
"Mr. Right." Despite my good looks and having a burgeoning career as a
young attorney with a boutique law firm, I was having a hard time finding
anyone who was even remotely interested in me, and vice versa.

The older I got the more I realized I just didn't seem to fit into any gay
"circles" anywhere on earth. I guess that's why I always found myself more
attracted to straight men. Their unassuming, laid-back natures were very
appealing to me. I had my share of rendezvous with straight men, but of
course such men would never commit to a serious relationship. They were
usually just after good sex and to be worshipped. Even the straightest of
American males sometimes tired of the constant competition and challenge
from modern females, which left them demasculinated and frustrated. I was
like a small island in the midst of a vast ocean. Drop anchor and move on
in the direction Mother Nature intended for them, as vigorously as they
might have fought against the current. As far as my love life went, I was
on a slow-moving treadmill.

And so that was partly why I decided I needed a break from Seattle and to
visit my parents in Arizona. I looked forward to not only getting away from
the lame Seattle scene, but to feel some warm sun on my winter-weary body.
I had planned the trip a few weeks in advance so when my mom picked me up
at Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport and she informed me of her plans to be gone
during my five-day stay, I gave her a surprised look.

"I'm sorry, sweets," she said as she drove me from airport back to her and
Dad's place in Mesa. My dad stayed behind as he usually did. He hated to
deal with traffic now that he was retired. "I have a cruise scheduled from
Los Angeles to Puerto Vallarta with my bridge club. It's just for a few
days. It's a bridge cruise. I hope you don't mind. At least I'll be able to
spend tonight and your last night here with you before you leave."

"That's fine," I said, none too upset. I really didn't mind. I actually
liked that my mom was doing something with her life. Growing up I always
thought she was somewhat of an overly domesticated fussbudget. Finally she
was spreading her wings. It had been nearly a year since I had last seen my
parents and I wondered how much my dad had spread his wings.

Back at my parents place Dad meandered into the hallway to greet me. He
wore typical "retirement" garb: t-shirt-, Bermuda shorts, flip-flops. I
couldn't believe how much weight my dad had dropped. He was down to what he
called his "pre-daddy" weight.

"Retirement looks like it's treating you nice," I said, releasing my hug
from him and smiling bashfully.

"Your mother gives me no choice." Dad chuckled. "She's always gallivanting
around the globe, leaving me here alone. I have way too much time on my
hands. So I took up water polo. Can you believe it? At my age!"

Indeed Dad looked great for 62. He still had strong legs and since losing
weight his stomach looked as flat as an ironing board. He looked years away
from when he would slide into the old-man with stick legs and protruding
belly.

After dinner and catching up, I did what I had been dreaming of since the
rainy season hit Seattle in October—I went swimming in my parents'
pool. It felt great to swim with the setting sun splashing pink highlights
off the cresting waves in the pool. Their pool was enclosed in a screened
atrium and though it wasn't exactly huge, it was nice with a hot tub
attached.

"Looks like you've been working out a lot," Dad said as he stepped into the
atrium wearing his terry-cloth bathrobe.

I blushed. "Well, yeah. When I'm not at work there's not a lot else to do,
I guess."

"You mind if I join you?"

"Sure," I said. "I was just about to get out anyway."

Dad flung off his robe and I had to suppress a gasp his body looked so
firm. It was moderately hairy but the dark hairs were bleached from the
sun. His skin, still fairly tight for a man in his early sixties, was a
deep tan, far more tanned than mine, of course. He was almost cute in his
blue board shorts, as if he were forty years younger.

Dad jumped into the water and splashed me a bit in my face. He reemerged
from under the water and wiped his face with his strong engineer's hands.

"Woah!" he said. "Feels good. Best thing we ever did was get this
pool. Glad your mom talked me into it."

I swam over to the side of the pool and hoisted myself up. Sitting with my
feet dangling over the side, I watched Dad swim a few laps before he
stopped in the middle of the pool near me and blew out some water from his
mouth like a fountain. The artificial lighting from the atrium glistened
off his wet shoulders and brown hair flecked with a few gray strands. He
studied me a minute with that dad look: contemplative, scrutinizing. He put
his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the sides back and forth
shaking out the water from his ears, all while analyzing me. I knew it was
coming. The concerned "nurturing" dad was about to come forth.

"How's the law firm?" he asked, building to what was really concerning him.

"Good, good," I said, watching the light play off the waves in the
pool. "Busy."

"And how's everything else going?"

"Okay." I kicked the water with my toe. This was what he was really
interested in, "everything else."

"Just okay?"

"You know how it is."

"I don't," Dad said. "I don't know how it is at all. I know you're
unhappy. I just don't understand what it is gay guys are looking for. If
it's not you, then who or what?"

"Dad, we've been over this. It's different for gay guys. It's not like you
and mom." I sighed and kicked the water around some more. It wasn't easy
talking to my dad about this. He knew that I was interested in a committed
long-term relationship, and often puzzled over what was taking so long. He
was simply baffled by "gay culture." He wasn't the only one.

"I know you are who you are, and I don't judge that," Dad said, moving the
water around with his hands, "but it angers me that you might not be happy
with your choices."

"It's not a choice, Dad."

"Don't quibble over words with me. You know what I mean."

"I'm actually really happy," I said, trying to look at him directly in his
brown eyes without feeling cowardice. My dad always demanded truthfulness
when you spoke with him. The engineer in him refused to be toyed with. But
I wasn't exactly being untruthful. I really was happy with my life. I just
had a major part missing.

"You're happy?"

"Well, yes. As happy as I can be. I just accept what is. With gay guys,
meeting each other is, well, it's not like with you and mom. It's not about
finding someone to breed with, not that straight people are only looking
for that. But it's an important aspect that keeps two people bonded
together. Gay men don't have that. I don't know..." I grew flustered. My
philosophizing over gay life for so long was wearing on me.

"I don't get all this hoopla about gay marriage if no one even wants to
date," Dad said.

I snickered. "I agree. But irony is to man what water is to swimming
pools." Wanting to end the subject, I slid into the pool and dunked my
head. I broke the surface and shook my curly head and splashed my dad. He
splashed me back lightly, half-heartedly, as if still pondering his
confusion with the gay lifestyle. I knew he loved me, and only wanted the
best for me. But there were some things he simply could not make any
better. Or could he?

The next morning my mother's bridge partner picked her up for the
airport. She was in a giddy, gleeful mood as she left for her flight to Los
Angeles, and on toward her cruise to Puerto Vallarta. Her absence left
behind a somberness in the air. I felt restless and bored. After my
conversation with Dad last night, I felt kind of empty and lonely. Aching
for a man—a real man—I had done what I hated doing whenever I visited
my parents but sometimes can't resist—I masturbated under the bed
sheets.

Dad seemed distracted too. At my age of 31, he expected me to be "married"
by now and he worried about my obvious frustration with the same sex. But
he left well enough alone and asked if I wanted to play a 9-hole golf game
to avoid any more talk about relationships.

We spent the rest of the day golfing, lunching and him touring me around
the ever expanding development where my parents lived. Mesa at the time was
almost as large as any medium-sized city—300,000 residents. Today it
exceeds 400,000 and, although a mere suburb of Phoenix, it's one of the
fifty largest cities in the United States. In a few more years Mesa will be
more populous than Seattle. I loved the green palm trees juxtaposed against
the rising purple desert mountains. The day relaxed me and I looked forward
to another swim once we returned home.

I swam alone and afterward we ate Italian take-out talking about
work-related matters at the law firm and Dad's retirement. He was truly
enjoying himself. He seemed to have the best of everything. I envied him so
much. He stayed clear mention my lack of a love life, and I was grateful to
say good night to him around eleven without him bringing it up again.

But I couldn't sleep. Still restless, I climbed out of bed and almost
absentmindedly wandered to the glass doors looking into the atrium. I was
completely naked since I always slept in the buff. I figured Dad would be
sound asleep, and with mom gone I wasn't too shy about wandering out of bed
in the middle of the night naked to just stare and think like I did back in
my apartment in Seattle.

I watched the full moon's reflection off the pool water in the atrium and
tried to sigh away my frustration. My vacation in some ways only
exacerbated my longing for a man. If only I had a real man to be with, a
"husband" to cuddle with, to stroll down the palm tree lined streets with,
to frolic in the pool with, to make love with...

"Thinking of a midnight swim?" Dad stood behind me.

I turned to him slightly, careful to keep my penis from his view even
though the house was dim. "I was thinking of getting in the hot tub," I
said. In the sliding glass door's reflection, I could see Dad was wearing
his boxers. He had slept in his boxers since I could remember. It was
comforting to know that some things never changed. "I just wanted to sit
and think."

"I'll join you." He headed toward me. "If you don't mind."

I stepped onto the pool deck and dropped into the hot tub before he could
see much of my naked body. It was a little odd being naked in front of my
dad and although I was no prude, I still didn't feel like putting on a
"show" for him. I also didn't feel like bothering to slip on the bathing
trunks I brought with me that were still damp hanging in the bathroom. Dad
turned on the tub and peeled off his boxers and stepped in opposite me. I
tried to look casual, but I hadn't seen my dad completely naked in many
years. I had forgotten what a swinger he was. I was grateful that the heat
could explain my blushing cheeks.

The gurgling of the tub along with the steam distracted us from having any
conversation at first. We simply slid into the hot, massaging water and
relaxed. The full moon was high and everything was aglow with a hazy
blue. It was almost dreamlike. My worries seemed as far away as Puget
Sound.

Dad shook his head. Beads of sweat on his forehead dribbled down the side
of his chiseled face. Now that he had lost weight I could see the square
line of his jaw more clearly. He was a handsome, masculine man, I thought,
even still into his sixties.

Dad moved over toward me and adjusted some knobs close to me. There was a
calming aroma of lavender floating under our noses. I asked him what he had
just done and he told me that the hot tub had a mechanism that released
scented oils into the tub.

"They say it's not exactly good for the pump, but I like the smell."
Instead of sliding back to his spot opposite me, he rested by the scent
knob, about a foot from me. He laid his head back and closed his eyes.

Under the blue moon I studied his face. I only hoped to look as good as he
did when I was his age. I hope that I inherited his side of the family's
"aging" genes. So far so good. My mother was what you would call cute, but
she was clearly looking her age. Although she was five years younger than
Dad, she looked several years older.

"So you go out with friends?" he asked toward the moon, his eyes still
shut.

"I go out for drinks, dinners. Sure. Typical things."

Dad looked at me. "You deserve more."

I just smiled and shrugged. Sinking lower into the hot water, I allowed the
bubbles to pop over my face, tickling my nose. The smell of the lavender
calmed me. One of the jets pulsated against my lower back. "Feels good," I
said. "You're lucky to have a life like this."

"It's pretty good." He turned his head back toward the nighttime sky. "I
worked hard though. Maybe you'll get there quicker than me. I just wish you
had someone to get there with."

"Maybe someday."

"Well, you have me and your mom, and your sisters. I'm sorry if I've been
prying into your life. It's just, well, I'm your dad and I worry..."

"I know, Dad. I know. Thanks. You're sweet. Really. I'm lucky to have a dad
like you."

I couldn't help but reach over and give Dad a hug. His soothing words along
with the soothing, hot water and massaging bubbles and the luxurious
lavender scent made my head light. Perhaps even the full moon encouraged a
bit of giddy and uninhibited feeling. Dad hugged me back, almost like he
had when I was a boy. The weightlessness of the water shifted me almost on
top of him. We both chuckled, but I did not feel awkward and I sensed
either did he. Clinging onto his strong neck, I lowered myself next to him
and rested my head on his shoulder. Our legs touched. We were an
affectionate family, but it had been a long time since I had "snuggled"
with my dad.

"Maybe someday I'll meet a man like you," I said. I wrapped my arms tighter
around his neck.

I had meant those words almost jokingly, but for some reason, instinctively
without even thinking, as if an invisible force were guiding my hand, I
reached down toward my dad's lap. My hand met his penis, still limp but
obviously growing. I wondered if he was getting excited because I was so
physically close to him. Was it possible for a man to be aroused by his son
simply by physical closeness? His dick was big even for being at
half-mast. It was thick and solid.

"Wow!" I said, shocked with my own forwardness. "You're a big man, Dad."

Dad snickered and stroked my back. "I haven't had any complaints." He
didn't seem too shocked by what was happening. In fact, it seemed to relax
him further.

"I hope this is cool," I said, keeping my head on his shoulder and my hand
firm around his growing penis.

"It's okay. You probably need this. Maybe I need it too." He pulled my head
from his shoulder and looked into my eyes. Blushing, I laid my head back on
his shoulder as he cradled me. His penis began to pulsate against my palm.

"It's been so long since anyone touched me," I said.

"It's okay," Dad said. "I understand."

I realized then that I had longed for male affection stronger than I had
ever realized. He wasn't just my dad, he was a man, a man who I had always
admired. A strong man's man. A man with smarts and a firmness to him, a
value I found in few others. I held onto his rock hard dick as if it were a
masculine life force, full of vitality and vigor. I let go realizing I was
perhaps hurting him, although the even, relaxed expression on his face did
not indicate he was in any discomfort.

"It reminds me of when you were a boy," Dad said, gazing at the moon.

"What?" I jerked my head at him.

Dad chuckled. "When you were a boy and we'd snuggle like this, you used to
do the same thing. You would grab onto my penis. You were just a little
boy. It was all so innocent of course."

Blood rushed to my face. "I don't remember that."

"You probably wouldn't. You were so young. No more than three or four. I
would push your hand away, but you seemed to just want to naturally hang on
to it. I guess it made you feel safer and secure. I finally would give up
stopping you. Even your mother would be there sometimes and she would just
smile. It was kind of cute in a way. You were so little."

I rested my head back on Dad's shoulder. I tried to picture myself as this
small boy snuggling with Dad, my tiny hand wrapped around his man-sized
penis.

It seemed completely natural and relaxing for Dad and me talk like that in
the hot tub. I did not foresee it coming, and never dreamed of it, not even
as a horny adolescent. Of course I had stirrings once in a blue moon, but
they were nothing tangible enough to think that I had longings for my own
father. In a sense, I felt as if I wasn't really with my dad, but with a
man, a man who, if he wasn't my dad, I would be more than happy to be with.
I reached again for his penis, which was poking toward the bubbly surface
almost teasingly.

"I'm sorry," I said again, holding onto his stiff cock. "I know this is
kind of weird."

Dad shook his head. "That's okay. I understand. Everyone deserves to be
touched. And you should be, too. It's just like when you were a little
boy."

"Did you get hard like this when I held onto you when I was a little boy?"
I asked wonderingly.

"Oh no." Dad shook his head. "I would naturally get a little aroused. It's
normal to get some blood flow down there if someone touches your penis. But
nothing like this."

"Did I get hard?" I had heard that little boys sometimes get erections, but
I didn't recall it happening to me.

"A little," Dad replied, grinning. "Nothing like you are now."

My faced heated. "I guess I'm really horny," I confessed. "It's been so
long since I've been even touched by anyone much less, well, you know."

"How long has it been?" he asked.

I lowered my head embarrassed. "Almost two years."

Dad held me back and looked at me hard. "You shouldn't go that long without
being with someone. It's not natural. You deserve love. You're a wonderful
man. You have so much to give."

Dad's loving words made my head swoon, and I melded into him. The feel of
his strong arms intoxicated me. As his masculine hands caressed my
shoulders, I sobbed.

"You'll be fine, Son," Dad said, holding me tighter. "You'll be fine. I
know. I understand."

I looked up at Dad and we gazed into each other's eyes. Mine were blue,
having inherited Mom's looks, but his were light brown, sparkling and
moist. Dad reached for my hair and stroked my curls.

He pulled me closer and kissed me lightly on the lips. It was almost like a
natural reflex. The kiss shocked Dad and I both. I felt as if I was going
to melt into the hot tub. The bubbles popped emitting lavender scent all
around and the sound of the night seemed to be sucked into a vacuum. My
heart beat more wildly than it already had been.

Slowly we brought our lips closer to each other again. I trembled but Dad
held me steady. We head locked in a full kiss. I nearly fainted as his
tongue opened my mouth. I gave into him, and allowed his strength to hold
me up so that I would not slip into the tub. To feel a manly mouth on my
own was electrifying. Oh, the feel of him. The feel of his moist mouth, the
sense of his breath entering me. I didn't think I could ever break the
embrace. But Dad pulled back, and looked away, as if ashamed.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, glancing out the atrium into the night. "I'm okay. You kiss
very good. And I know you need this. It's just that..."

"Dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"Will you stand up?"

He hesitated. But as if he had no free will, he did what I had asked. He
kept his ahead turned askance, to avoid meeting my eyes, as he raised his
body above the bubbling water like Poseidon, and stood before me, his rock
hard cock mere inches from my face.

Leaning back, I looked at him, all of him. I wiped away a few tears that
mingled with the sweat and water and kept looking at him. He looked down at
the gurgling water. Once again, almost reflexively, I took Dad's raging
hardness into my hands. The little boy in me, I suppose, would not go
away. Yet I was a man, a fully grown, sexually vital man. Dad finally
looked at me and smiled.

By design I licked the tip of Dad's cock. I looked up at him after my
tongue's initial swipe to gauge his reaction, surprised even by my own
unexpected behavior. Oh, but how I needed to be with a real man like Dad.

But Dad's smile did not fade. His moist, loving eyes said, "It's okay,
Son. I know. I understand you need this. I understand and it feels too good
to make you stop."

Without even asking, I took my dad's penis solidly into my mouth. I took it
full, all the way down to his balls. Dad did not protest. He shuddered and
instinctively, though I could tell hesitantly, rested his hand on the back
of my head. A quivering moan escaped from his lips. Soon he relaxed and
resisted no further. His hand firmly held onto the back of my head as I
pumped my drooling mouth up and down along his stiffness.

"Damn," he moaned, "I can't believe you can take it all the way down. No
one has ever been able to do that. Not in my whole life..." His words
trailed off as I continued to deep throat him.

To have a man's hard cock down my throat was pure ecstasy. It had been so
long, too long. I needed my Dad's manliness. I needed it bad. I gobbled
down on him for the life force that it was until he stood up and pulled me
off him.

Grinning with embarrassment, he said, "That was too good. You almost got me
going. Maybe you shouldn't do that."

"Sorry," I said, lowering my eyes. "It's just been so long since I've been
with a man."

In the ensuing silence, Dad brought me closer to him. His lips touched
mine. He kissed me longingly, again probing my mouth with his tongue. I
could tell by his deep kisses that it had probably been a long time since
he had been touched passionately, too. I wondered if he had kept faithful
to my mom over the years. Dad held me tighter as we stood kissing deeply,
our erections pressed against each other.

"Oh, Dad," I grunted between kisses. "Will you show me what a stud you
are?" My passion overwhelmed me and took over any remaining bit of
inhibition I might have had at that point. "Will you please fuck me?"

"Okay," he said, simply. "If you really want me to."

We toweled each other off, pulling on each other's erections, and spending
extra time drying the pubic hairs on our low hanging balls. Taking my hand,
he guided me into the bedroom he shared with Mom. I immediately lied on the
bed face up and spread my legs. Dad looked down at me and stroked his cock,
which looked as if it had grown even more since getting out of the hot tub.

"You're beautiful ," he said, eyeing me as I lied naked on the bed. "When I
saw you standing naked by the door looking at the pool, I thought how
stunning you looked. I couldn't believe I was thinking how hot my own son's
ass was."

"Your masculinity was always something I needed," I said, my hands
mechanically feeling my hard body. "I just never knew how much I really
needed it until now." I thought I might pass out from the sensation of
arousal and masculine sex that was to take place.

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asked me, watching me finger my asshole,
wet from the hot tub, as the passion began to take its toll on me.

"Yes," I said firmly. "I need your masculinity. I need to feel your strong,
firm manliness inside me."

"Oh," he said, gulping for a breath. "It's been a while since anyone needed
or wanted that from me."

"You don't know how much I need and want it. Show it to me, Dad. Show me
what a man you are."

Those coaxing words seemed to send Dad over the edge. He threw his head
back and vigorously gave his stiff cock a few quick squeezes. Then he
climbed right on top of me and looked down into my eyes. He grinded his
hips as he pushed his raging hardness against mine.

"I'm going to give you what you need, Son," he breathed heavily. "I'm going
to show you what a man can do." I opened my mouth to his and we kissed
fully, our mouths as wide open as we could get them as if to breathe life
into each other.

I wrapped my legs tight around him so that I could feel as much of his
manly weight on me. Our throbbing hearts and cocks seemed on the verge of
exploding. I wrapped my arms tight around his strong manly waist. The
firmness of his ass as he flexed his cheeks sent me over the edge. I
wriggled and writhed under him. His power was revealed with those thrusts,
and I was not sure how long I could go on without him fully taking me.

I spread my legs as wide as I could and my dad responded by lifting my ass
up and teasing me with the head of his thick man meat. Breathless in the
throes of passion, he simply asked, "What do I do?"

"Do you have any Vaseline or KY?" I assumed Mom, at her age, would need
lubricants. Dad rushed into the bathroom and returned seconds later holding
a tube of KY. Noticing the practically unused tube I guessed Dad hadn't
been getting any lately either.

Dad swiftly greased up and came back to me, eager to spread my legs even
wider with his strong manly thighs. Gently he began to insert himself into
me. I helped him guide it in since he clearly had never had anal sex with a
man before.

"Tell me if I hurt you," he said.

"You can't hurt me," I told him. "I love it. I need it." I was so deeply
entrenched in pure passion at that point that my dad could have been
sixteen inches long and I could've taken it. There was a slight spasm of
pain as he passed the sphincter, but then the fleeting pain gave way to
complete and total rapture. My entire body shuddered with the sensation of
Dad's enormous tool—it must have been nine inches!—plunging deep
inside me . As soon as he slid in, Dad no longer needed instruction from
me.

He lost himself inside me, pumping and pushing. Each thrust was a powerful
as the one before. I had never seen his expression as it was: pure ecstasy
etched across his sweat-shellacked face. He pushed up on his hands to get
more fully into me, to push more of his manly power deep inside his son's
ass. I could smell the Old Spice he had been wearing since I was a boy.

He looked into my eyes and kissed me deeply, our tongues probing into each
other's mouths, his thrusts coming quicker and quicker. I spread my legs
for him wider, my toes curled, submitting completely. I was his now. I
belonged to him. And he knew it.

He pushed and thrust, moving his hips from side to side as straight men
often do when fucking women. I relished his innocent masculinity. The man,
my dad, fucking his son. He fucked me harder and harder. I screamed for
more. He humped and grinded my hole. Using his arms, he forced my knees to
my shoulders and he sat up on his haunches, pounding deeper and
faster. Sweat dribbled from his forehead and temples, merging with my own
perspiration. I threw my arms aside, allowing him to take full possession
of me.

"You like this, Son? You need this?"

"Fuck me hard, Dad. Show me what a stud you are. Give me what you need and
want. Don't hold back. Fuck me!"

His brutal cock moved in and out of my hole with fierce fast thrusts. "I'm
going to fuck you so hard," he grunted. "You're going to get what you want
and deserve from your dad. You want that, huh? You want your dad to fuck
you good and hard?"

I nearly fainted. I shouted to the ceiling, to the rafters, to the stars in
the Florida night sky.  Grabbing onto his faster and faster flexing ass
muscles, I screamed, "Fuck me hard, Dad! Give it to me. Don't hold
back. Please, Dad, give me what I need. Fuck me! Fuck me hard!"

He leaned in deeper and harder, pushing his entire dad rod all the way to
his pubic hairs. I could feel his swinging balls slap my ass as he
plundered my hole with his cock harder and deeper.  He released my legs
from his tight hold and fell on top of me, pressing his full weight onto my
body without missing a beat in his rhythmic pounding. I wrapped my arms and
legs tight around him like a vice. He grunted louder and louder.

"I can't believe how fucking good your hot ass feels," he moaned into my
ear. "You're so fucking tight. I can't believe what those men are
missing. Your ass is amazing to fuck. I'm going to give your ass a good
fucking like you need. God, I can't believe how much of me you can take."

"Give me all of it," I whimpered into his ear, biting on his lobe and
holding him tighter on me. His glutes flexed faster, wet with sweat from
the muscles tightening. "Give me your entire cock hard and good,
Dad. Please, fuck me with your tool. Make me your yours. Make me your fuck
boy!"

He jerked up and locked his arms, driving farther and harder. I moved with
the cadence of his thrusting, grunting and shouting.

"Oh God!" he cried. "I'm going to cum! I'm going to cum!"

With a few quick successions of thrusts, he tossed his head back, and I
felt the searing heat of his cum fill deep into my hole. I came immediately
after without stroking myself, shooting over my chest and chin. Dad rubbed
his hands in it, spreading my jism over my smooth pec muscles.

"How did you do that?" he said, breathing heavy. "How did you cum without
touching yourself?"

"You worked my prostate into a frenzy," I said, chuckling. "I couldn't help
it."

"I've never seen you cum before. After thirty years, can you believe? Oh,
Son, I should have seen you shoot your load a long time ago."

Collapsing on top of me in exhaustion, Dad breathed heavy. For a man his
age, his stamina was impressive. He was still inside me, his man meat
pulsating with hot blood. I clenched my butt, to ensure he did not slide
out. My legs ached, but I kept them wrapped tightly around his waist.

"The look on your face just before you shot in my ass was awesome," I
whispered into his ear. "I always loved looking into a man's face just as
he cums. I have never seen you orgasm, and the look on your face was
beautiful. It was pure man." Yes, I had brought out the total man in
Dad. It was at that moment that I realized I had given as much of myself to
Dad as he had given himself to me.

Dad lifted his head and smiled at me, his brown eyes glazed. Snickering, he
said, "Your hole was hot and tight. Pounding you was like fucking the tight
leather sofa cushions coated in oil." And then, I felt Dad's cock grow
inside me again. I responded by pushing him in farther with my hands firm
on the mounds of his ass cheeks. I spread my legs wide, indicating
submission. He began to move it back and forth.

Dad got back to his hands, his elbows locked, and moved in and out of me,
his eyes closed in ecstasy. He moved slower this time, as if enjoying the
sensation of something tight and firm encasing his powerful, throbbing
cock, yet he continued to drive deep. I released one hand from his glutes
and jerked myself. Dad responded by thrusting faster.

"I can't believe it," he muttered, "I'm going to cum again. I'm going to
fill your amazing ass. I'm going to cum into your right hot ass." And he
threw his head back and arched his back, grunting as he pushed his hot
shots of cum deep into my wanting ass. I stroked my cock and thick globs of
cum shot onto my belly.

He collapsed on top of me again. My cum adhered us like glue. He began to
chuckle. "I hadn't fucked like that since I was a teenager."

I pictured my dad as a youth, his throbbing sex turning the girls wild,
perhaps like it had at one time with Mom. He kissed me on the lips and
slowly rose. His dick, semi-hard still, slid out of my hole and I winced.

A few moments later I heard the shower run. I got up and showered in my own
bathroom. I felt no regret for what my dad and I had done. The need for a
man—a man like my dad—was so intense just having that need satisfied
filled me not with lament but with a frisson that continued even as I
toweled off.

I was toweling my legs when Dad walked in. He did not speak. Still naked,
he grabbed me from behind and held me firm to his semi-wet nude body. His
penis swelled to its full rock hard length again. Yes, it had been a long
time since Dad had gotten laid, almost as long as me perhaps. That
explained why he was always so concerned about my sex life. He sympathized
with my situation. He knew how much it hurt not to be close to
someone. Realizing this, I turned to him, my cock now painfully hard again
too, and held him tight, kissing him lightly on his lips.

"I love you, Dad," I whispered to him, smiling and happy. "I love your
manliness and your masculinity and how you fuck me like a stud."

"I love you, too, Son." He smiled back, hugging me tighter. "I love how you
submit to me completely, giving yourself to me like you would no
other. From now on, I'm going to give you what you need when you need
it. I'll take your hot ass whenever I want it."

Dad turned me to face the mirror. I could see him in the reflection grip
his hard cock. He slapped it against my ass, and teased me with the
mushroom head pushed close to my hole. I reached back and spread my cheeks
for him. He moaned, overwhelmed with the completeness of my surrender.

He pushed his head into my hole. I still had enough lube in me, he entered
with minimal trouble. I grimaced, gripped the counter, waiting for that
initial pain to pass before transforming into sheer rapture.  He gauged my
expression in the mirror. Seeing that I was now smiling, he grabbed my
waist with his large, strong hands and plowed into me deep.

"I can't believe you can take all of me," he said, pumping in and out,
forcing me to grip the counter harder so that my head would not bang into
the mirror above the sink. "Fuck, your ass is hot. Fuck, I want to fuck you
good."

I did not speak this time. My silence proved my giving all of myself to
Dad. This time, it was all for him. I pressed my stomach against the basin,
allowing him total control. His thrusts pushed into me harder and faster,
deeper. He slapped the sides of my hard ass, whooping and hollering as if
he were riding a bronco in a rodeo.

"You got a tight ass, Son. I wish I had known about this hot tight hard ass
of yours sooner. I would've fucked you a long time ago. I'm going to fuck
you good to make up for those lost years. I'm going to fuck you hard and
good."

I met each of his deep, hard plunges by pushing my ass farther out to him,
giving him me without hesitation. His fingers gripped my sides harder, and
I knew he was about to cum again.

"I want to see you shoot," I said. "Please, Dad. Let me see your cum shoot
out of that throbbing massive cock that's been fucking me."

Dad grunted and moaned. He pumped me hard several more times. Through the
mirror I watched him pull out his man meat and stroke his shaft, throwing
his head back and squeezing his eyes shut while his hand worked over his
thick vein-covered cock. He opened his eyes just as his cum shot from his
purple and throbbing head, wanting to witness his cum soak his own son. His
hot cum struck my neck and back. I couldn't believe after three times in a
row, Dad could shoot so far. And at his age!

I remained bent over the sink for several minutes with Dad inside me. We
breathed hard. I had not cum again, for I had no way of reaching my aching
dick. Dad formed his hard body over mine, his arm wrapped around my
ribcage. Slowly, he stood and slid out of me.

Barely able to walk, we wrapped our arms around each other's waists and
guided each other into the shower. We used generous dollops of musk-scented
liquid soap and lathered each other. I loved the feel of his taut skin
mixed with the silky soap. I massaged his pectoral muscles and his thighs,
thickened by his polo matches. We tongued kissed deep, and my hand found
the smooth round mound of man flesh. I grabbed his ass cheeks and prodded
his mouth with my tongue. My finger worked its way into his manhole, and he
jerked his head upward, groaning.

I had no idea how he might react to my finger in his ass. But then he
turned his back to me and pressed his marble hard ass against my throbbing
cock. His ass was gorgeous, even for a man half his age! I could not
control myself. With the water cascading down my neck and back, I knelt
before his ass, and spread his cheeks. I heard a low moan emit from his
mouth above the rush of water. He pushed his ass out farther. I understood
the implicit signal. All men understood it. Regardless of sexual
orientation.

I pushed my tongue into Dad's hairy hole and began licking without
inhibition. He grunted and moaned and clawed at the shower tiles. I pushed
my tongue into his hole deeper and nibbled on the sweet pucker hole and the
tiny curly hairs, matted with spit and water, that encircled his delicious
opening.

Dad pounded a fist against the tiles. "Ah, shit! Goddam! Lick my ass,
boy. Lick it up good. Let me feel that tongue in your dad's ass."

Water ran down my face, and I spread his cheeks wider and probed my tongue
down into his hole by at least an inch. I savored the burning sensation on
my tongue from his asshole. I bit on his ass cheeks, teasing him. My lips
found his hole once again. Devouring him with ass kisses, nibbles, and
thrusts of my tongue, I soaked his asshole and crack with my spit.

"You like that, Son? Huh? You like that taste of your dad's ass?"

"Yes," I said between penetrating licks. "Your ass is so fucking hot. I
could eat it all night."

"Take it, boy. Take your dad's ass."

But I surprised him—and perhaps even myself—by standing up, my cock
poised near his moist pucker hole. "Have you ever had your ass fucked
before?" I asked him.

"No," he said breathless. "If you're thinking of taking your dad's ass,
you'd be the first, and the only."

I worked my cock from side to side, allowing the head to kiss his smooth
cheeks. "Mom never used a toy on you?"

"Once a long time ago. She used one of her tampons on me. I didn't like
it."

"You want me to fuck you? You want to feel your son's rock hard cock up
your tight man hole?"

"It's your turn to show your dad what a stud you are. Go ahead. Use your
tool like you should. Fuck me, stud. Go easy."

I lubed his hole with more soap, using first one finger then two, enjoying
how he now squirmed from my massaging his prostate. I gripped the base of
my agonizing cock and pushed the head between his ass cheeks. He tensed,
anticipating the initial pain.

Next, I slipped inside him. Dad's head jerked back, and he released an
elongated moan. He clutched at the tiled wall, moaning and biting down hard
on his teeth. I went slow, not wanting to hurt him. I kept silent,
focusing. Soon his grunts turned to low groans, and I sensed pleasure
rather than pain now coursed through him. He breathed, his hands relaxed,
the fingers still. And he pushed his ass back farther into me.

I grabbed his waist and began moving faster, thrusting in and out. I was
not as big as Dad, but I had some girth and a good seven and a half
inches. I used all of it. He moved along with the rhythm of my thrusts. I
watched, transfixed, as I pulled my cock in and out of his ass. I'd pull
out to the head, then thrust in my entire length while he squirmed and
banged his head against the tiled wall.

"Fuck me, boy. Fuck me good. I'm starting to like it. I can feel your
throbbing cock. I want to feel your hot man juice fill me. Go ahead. Fuck
me hard and give you old dad all you got."

I grabbed his cock, rock hard and pulsating with blood. But his ass was
what I concentrated on. I fucked Dad harder and harder, digging the fingers
of my left hand into the hot flesh of his waist. I did not hold back. I
slid in and out fiercely, slamming up against his cheek all the way to my
bouncing balls. I could feel his hot flesh flex and twitch with each hard
drive. I stroked Dad's hard man meat faster. He moaned toward the ceiling,
dripping with condensation from the steam of our shower.

"Fuck me, Son! Fuck me! Oh God, fuck me!"

"I'm going to cum!" I screamed grabbing onto his shoulders with one hand
while I stroked his engorged man pole. I slammed hard into him, bit his
back muscles, and released into his ass what I knew was a healthy amount of
hot goo. Dad's cock's pulsed in my hand, he squirmed, moaned to the wall.

"Keep fucking me while you stroke it, boy. That's it! That's it! Keep
plowing my ass." Dad shot all over my hand, brutally hot globs that
trickled over my knuckles and through my fingers. I used his cum to
squeezed his shaft more, forcing him to squirm and beg for mercy. We
laughed, and I fell against him, hanging onto his midsection so I would not
fall over in exhaustion.

Dad rotated around and kissed my lips. Shaking his head with a grin, he
said, "I can see why you might cum without stroking yourself when a nice
hard cock is riding your ass."

"Your hot hard ass felt so tight and warm wrapped around my cock," I said
to him, holding him tight. We kissed fully, and our tongues swirled inside
each other's mouths as the water from the showerhead fell over our
heads. Dad sucked on my tongue a moment longer, and broke off. His hands
clutched my shoulders, and he smiled.

"We better take a break. We'll have the whole weekend for more fun if you
like. But give your old man a rest."

And that weekend, Dad and I certainly made use of our alone time with Mom
on her Mexican cruise. We made love a dozen more times. Sometimes fast and
furious, other times soft and sweet, taking time to feel each other's
bodies press against each other, to gaze into each other's glassy eyes
before we shot our loads. Dad permitted me to fuck him raw twice more, but
he preferred to top. And since I was a natural bottom, I had no problem
with Dad dominating me whenever he wished.

Each time was as wonderful as the first. We explored more of each other's
bodies, especially while we swam naked in the pool. He would grab me as I
swam by and push me up poolside onto all fours (by that time Dad knew how
much I loved to be manhandled) and kiss me in places he once thought
forbidden. With my ass at his eye level and my hole spread, he'd do to me
what I had done to him in the shower.  His hot tongue probed his son's
smooth hole many times, and we'd leave spent cum floating atop the pool's
surface, glistening in the sunshine like pearls.

"You're beautiful," he'd say. "My God, even your asshole is stunning."

His compliments and attentions filled me with joy. I needed his validation,
I needed his love, I needed his manliness. "

I savored our new inhibition. During that weekend in Arizona, I lived
almost a fantasy. I had everything I had ever wanted with a man. I loved
that a man could grab me whenever he wanted, especially when it came from
love and not just lust. One morning standing naked in the kitchen as I
poured myself coffee, Dad simply came up to me, bent me over the counter
and slipped is already greased fully hard cock into my ass. He plowed me
right there. He didn't waste time that occasion. He came inside me after a
few minutes of hardcore pounding, his spent cum dripping out my yearning
hole.

Dad expressed so much happiness with the sensation of his full manliness
inserted deep in a tight hole, after a lifetime of frustration and
dissatisfaction. Never had he met a woman who would allow him to put it all
the way in, not even Mom after all their married years.  That time in the
kitchen was the last time we fucked that weekend. Mom was to arrive that
afternoon.

Dad and I didn't make a practice out of having sex with each other over the
years after that first weekend. We fucked three more times: once two years
later when I was visiting my parents in Arizona and Mom was out shopping
(Dad had stepped into the bathroom while I was brushing my teeth, bent me
over the sink, tore down my shorts, and pounding my ass hard); and then
again six months after that when he visited me alone in Seattle. It felt
great to have Dad seduce me in my own apartment, to feel him take me and
dominate me on my own bed. Spread and eager, I submitted to Dad, allowing
him to pound my ass as hard as he wanted, and to stuff his tongue deep down
my throat, the way he deserved.

Today, Dad suffers from dementia. So far he seems to be hanging in there
with three confirmed forms of brain disease. He still as a handsome look,
although he certainly looks like an older gentleman today. I never mention
our sexual encounters when I visit Mom and Dad; I don't know if he
remembers. When I look into is aging, yet still bright, eyes, I sometimes
wonder by the way he looks back at me that there might be a tinge of
recollection. He struggles to smile, flushes, glances away.

One day a few months ago while everyone was out of the house and I was left
to care for Dad, I gave myself to him one final time. I was hand washing
him, and I found he was sporting a nice woody.  Surprised he could still
get hard, out of complete reverence, I took him into my mouth. He let loose
a low murmur, like a baby alligator's yipe. I worried he might have a heart
attack by the way he clutched the armrests to the wheelchair, but I refused
to release my lips from his man meat. I sucked his amazing hard throbbing
cock until I gagged. Perhaps twelve years had passed since I last had Dad's
cock in my mouth.

Next I stripped off my pants and underwear, applied a good amount of lube
in my asshole and on Dad's shaft, and, with my back to him, sat on his
stiff rod. I rode up and down on him, beating my meat while listening to
his odd low guttural grunts behind me. It had been so long since I had felt
his massive dad meat inside my ass.  I relished the sensation, and rode him
good. For a moment his hands came to my sides, as if he wanted to grasp
onto me, like old times, but they fell flaccid back to the armrests. I rode
and twisted down hard on him, letting him enjoy the total sensation of my
ass, still tight and round for my late forties. Like Dad, I kept my looks
and body into older age. I heard a whimper break from his throat, and next
felt the hot rush of his cum enter my ass. I shot on the floor by his feet,
right about the same time he filled me with his juice.

I pulled off him and studied him. He had laid back and rested his eyes
after I rode his cock to orgasm. A smile had lifted the sides of his
thinning lips. I don't know if he understood what had happened, or who he
had done it with if he had, but I was happy that he'd received pleasure. I
washed us both and pulled on my pants before my sister, Mom, and my
boyfriend of two years returned home. That was Dad I mines third and final
time having sex with each other. I can't imagine doing it again. His aging
comes faster and faster and he has only a few years left.

A few months after that incident, I dared to tell my boyfriend about what I
had done with Dad that afternoon while he and my sister and mom were out
shopping. I withheld the stories of our times together before that, some
fifteen years prior. I figured those were private moments between Dad and
me. My boyfriend surprised me by stroking my cheek with his thumb, and
telling me that he thought I had given Dad a beautiful gift. Then he said
he wished he had a son who might do such things to him in his old age.
After that he rolled on top of me, shoved his raging cock inside me, and
fucked me like he never had, exclaiming how my ass was made for big dicks,
even big dad dicks.

As I watch Dad fade away, my love for him grows, like a memory of a rose
that lies withered in between the pages of a beloved book of poems. I love
my Dad. I love his manliness. I love that he was willing to give me a part
of him that I needed so badly, and in doing so learned that he too needed
something deeper from me.