Date: Sun, 9 May 1999 21:12:02 +0100
From: Fraser Cameron <ray-gl@dircon.co.uk>
Subject: Daddy's Boy

This story is mainly true.  I have changed some details, embellished
others.  It involves father-son incest and sex between adolescents.

DADDY'S BOY

by Fraser Cameron

I have vague memories of being three or four and my daddy greasing up my
arsehole.  His finger slipped inside and gently stroked in and out
repeatedly.  Years later, when asking about it, I was told that I had been
constipated and was given an enema.  I can't recall the enema and it
doesn't explain why this memory includes seeing my daddy's erect dick.  I
have never pursued the matter.

As I look back I guess that I always was gay.  I fell in love with a
photograph of my daddy taken when he was a teenager.  I would often take it
out and kiss it.  I remember playing sexual games with my best friend, who
was a girl of the same age but although I saw other boys naked I can't
recall ever being very interested.  I was interested in men though never
got an opportunity to see a naked man other than in paintings and sculpture
until I was around 11 years old.

I first KNEW for certain I was gay when I went on holiday and used a
changing room in a swimpool.  Our local pool had individual cubicles and
this was the first time I saw teenage and adult men naked.  I hung around,
buttoning and re-buttoning my clothes, tying and re-tying my shoelaces,
aware of a throbbing lump in my crotch and a light-headed feeling as my
pulse raced and thought I might faint with lust and pleasure.  Their bodies
looked so muscular in comparison with own soft pre-pubescence and I was
fascinated by the body hair and the length and thickness of their dangling
dicks.  I sat on the bench imagining how huge they must get when hard.  My
little dick doubled or more in size when I was erect.  These magnificent
members must be well over a foot long when stiff, if they were four or five
inches when soft.  Eventually, I couldn't delay any longer and fled the
scene.

Excitedly I looked forward to going for a swim there again.  The next time
the pool was much less full.  No more than a handful of young kids and one
or two teenagers.  In the changing room afterwards, there were two other
boys about 9 or 10 and me.  I had no interest in their bodies and
disappointedly donned my clothing.  To my gratification a guy about 14 came
in and shucked off his swimtrunks.  Although I was more or less dressed, I
slowed down my movements and held my breath.  His dick was very long and
thick - at least to my inexperienced eyes.  Furthermore, it was growing,
lengthening and thickening, bobbing and jerking up into full erection.  He
didn't touch it but glanced from his hard cock to each of us young kids and
grinned.

	"Who wants to dry my dick?"

One boy blurted out a shaky "No."  The other hurried to finish his dressing
and scurry out.

I felt sick and my heart pounded.  I heard myself answering him.

	"Yeah.  All right. I'll d.. dry it f...for you."  My voice trembled
with fear, lust and perhaps just a little cold after the swim.

He sort of waddled towards me, the gigantic dick weaving and bobbing as he
walked.  I remained seated on the bench as I watched - almost hypnotised by
the shiny red knob as it homed in on me at face level.  I reached out and
touched it tentatively.  It felt smooth, silky and hot.  I moved the skin
back and forth along his throbbing shaft.  It was probably only six inches
or so but looked so big.  Each time I uncovered the knob, it seemed to
inflate to a tight glistening crimson heart-shape.  The other boy had
watched this with a mixture of fascination and horror.  He picked up his
towel and trunks and ran.

The youth handed me his towel and I began to dry it and his balls, which
had tightened into twin spheres at the base of his dick.  He turned around
and bent over.  The crack of his bum opened and I could see the pinky-brown
bud of his arsehole.  It contracted and relaxed and few times.

	"Lick it.  Lick my hole."  He demanded as he looked back at my over
his shoulder.

I shook my head vigorously.

	"Wet your finger then and shove it up my arse."

	"That's dirty.  I'll get shit on my finger."

	"No, you won't.  Go on, just do it."

Slowly I spat on my finger and rubbed my spit on his hole.  I could feel
all the the little wrinkles and the resistance of his sphincter.  Suddenly,
he relaxed it and my finger shot in.  Surprised and shocked, I pulled it
out and refused to put it back in again.

	"All right, you can wank me, then."

I looked at him blankly.

	"You do know how to wank, don't you?"

I shook my head.

	"What you were doing before.  Stroke the skin up and down my dick."

I wanked him.  I felt so excited that this big boy - almost a man, was
letting me touch his dick and was enjoying it.  Soon, he started panting
and thrusting his cock backwards and forwards in my hand.

	"Do it.  Do it.  Yeah. yeah. Go on.  Go on.  Don't stop.
Shshiiiiitttt!"

He pushed his hips forward and threw his head back and white stuff shot
from his dick.  Quickly, I ducked out of the way but held on the the
pulsing hot rod in my sticky little hand.  The warm snotty stuff trickled
over my fingers.  He gasped and sighed and snatched the towel from my other
hand.  He wiped himself off.

	"Bugger off.  We've had our fun.  Get out."

I left.  But I had learnt something.  I liked touching grown dicks.  Some
guys, at least, liked having their dicks stroked.  And I now knew what I
could do when my dick got hard and uncomfortable.  I started to wank,
whenever I could.


I can't recall seeing Gordon before his mother died.  His mother and mine
were cousins.  He was 3-4 years older than me and went to a boarding
school.  When I was coming up for 12, his mother died and his father moved
in with us as he couldn't bear the grief of living in the house where his
wife had died.  For a year until - he bought another house he lived with us
and Gordon, too, at school holidays.  Having given up our only spare bed to
his father, Gordon and I slept in my bed.  On that first night, I was dying
to see his cock but tried to be cool about it as he shucked off his
trousers, removed his shirt and socks, and stood there in his underpants.
I gazed at the bulge in his crotch.  What had he got in there?  My cool
non-chalance was blown, my jaw dropped.

	"Interested?"

	"Eh?"

	"You're staring at my crotch.  I'm asking if you're interested in
seeing my cock.  I bet you are - the way you're just staring at it."

I couldn't speak and my eyes had not shifted from the tantalising mass.  He
laughed and shrugged, then dropped his jockeys.  His penis hung down
between his thighs to a length of six inches or more.  It was bigger soft
than the guy at the pool when erect.  He put on a pair of pajama trousers
and slipped into bed beside me.

	"Show's over. Go to sleep.  You'll see it again tomorrow."

	"It's so big."

	"You don't need to tell me.  I live with it.  At school I share a
dormitory with seven other guys.  They stare at it, too.  I've got the
biggest dick in our school or so it's reckoned.  Anyway, I'm tired even if
you're not.  Shut up now and let's get to sleep."


Perhaps he thought I was asleep, perhaps he didn't care, perhaps he was
wanting something to happen.  I never asked him and I'll never know.  Maybe
20 minutes later, I was aware of the bedclothes being pushed down and the
bed began to gently shake.  I turned as if in sleep to face him. The
movement stopped.  I kept my eyes closed and tried to breathe slowly,
deeply and rhythmically.  Apparently, re-assured that I was asleep, Gordon
resumed his wanking.

The light was dim but it was summer so not so dark that I could not see
what I wanted to see.  His hand raced up and down the largest penis I have
yet to see beaten.  It was fully 10 inches and thick like a beercan.  His
pajamas were around his knees and he whacked away at his monstrous member.
As I watched, his hand speeded up, his breathing came in pants and groans,
and I knew what was going to happen next.  I half sat up to get a better
view.  He stopped.

	"Fucking hell!" he said as he tried to cover himself up.  "I
thought you were asleep."

	"Don't put it away.  I want to watch."

	"Do you, indeed?  You randy little sod.  I bet you do.  Do you just
want to watch or do you want to do it for me?"

	"Yes, please."  Even in lust I tried to remember my manners.

	"Ok, then.  Get it out again.  I'll just lie back and enjoy it.  Go
ahead, what're you waiting for?"

I reverently pushed back the bedclothes and uncovered the object of my
desire.  I could not get my hand round it and held it with both hands.  I
rested my head on his chest and looked down at the towering tool in my
sweaty fingers.  I could smell it.  Not an unpleasant smell, just manly and
indicative of sexual arousal.  A bead of pre-cum oozed from the lips of his
peehole.  I caught it on a finger and sniffed it.  It smelt a bit sweet and
a bit like swimming pool water or bleach.  Feeling ver daring, I tasted it.
It didn't taste of anything much, - sort of salty and maybe a bit like
watered down softdrink.  I continued to stroke that silky shaft, up and
down, up and down with my hands.

	"I wouldn't rest my head there for much longer, if I were you.
When I come you'll get covered in spunk."

Reluctantly, I moved away a bit and continued my ministrations.  Pre-come
trickled from his dick and slicked my fingers so that they slid over his
turgid tool.  The now recognisable signs of impending orgasm were in
evidence.  He was making pelvic thrusts, he panted and moaned, his balls
tightened and his dick seemed to get even longer and thicker.  It started.
I felt the jerking pulses in his cock as spurts of come spat from his
peehole to land on his neck and chest.  Gordon went limp and his dick
softened in my grasp.

	"Thanks.  I needed that."  He kissed me on the lips and felt for my
dick.  "As I thought.  You've got a stiffy, too.  Shall I do you, now?"

	"Thank you.  Please, wank me."

He took my rigid little dick between thumb and forefinger and rapidly
pumped up and down.  It felt a bit uncomfortable and I squirmed away.

	"You're doing it too hard."  I complained.

	"Sorry.  But it's still so small.  I know..."

	He bent his head to my crotch and I could feel the warm wetness of
his mouth covering my pricklet.  I was shocked.  He had my willy in his
mouth!!  Next I felt him sucking at it and rolling it around with his
tongue.  It felt so good.  Up and down my short shaft he bobbed his head as
I ran my fingers through his hair.  I was caught in surprise at the
unexpected rapidity of my building orgasm.  The intensity took my breath
away and I felt as if my whole body had short-circuited.

	"No need to ask if you like that.  You went so still and almost
unconscious.  I thought for a moment, I'd killed you with pleasure."

	"Have you done this before.  With other boys, I mean."

	"Yeah.  It happens a lot at school.  Particularly when you've got a
big dick like mine.  Wanking, sucking and fucking."

	"Ooh!  You said a rude word."

	"Well, what do you want to call it?  Mostly you couldn't say it was
making love.  Love has little to do with it.  Though sometimes, it can be
done lovingly.  It's easier to say fucking than putting your dick up each
others bottoms."

	"Have you put it up someone's bottom?"

	"Yes.  But most boys are scared of its size."

	"Have you...  have you had a willy up your bum?"

	"Of course."

	"Doesn't it hurt?"

	"Sometimes, until you get used to it.  Well, most times at first
unless it's done slowly and gently."

	"I think it would hurt a lot to put this up my bottom."  I touched
his now flaccid penis.

	"Many would agree with you.  But there's a boy at school who enjoys
it and it doesn't hurt him.  But I don't suggest that I fuck you and your
dick is too tiny to fuck me.  Come on now - let's sleep."


The next night I was hoping that we could do it again but he just lay at my
back, spoon-like, and went to sleep.  I woke during the night and he was
snoring, lying on his back.  I wriggled under the bedclothes.  Very slowly,
I put a hand lightly on his tummy and edged it down, painstaking and
agonisingly gradual, until my fingers reached the edge of his waistband and
then down to the fly vent.  Like a spider, soft as a snowflake, light as a
feather my fingers crept into the gap.  I could feel the coarse public
hairs.  Where was it?  Where was his dick?  Edging down, listening for any
change in his breathing, I trailed surreptitious fingers deeper into his
crotch and touched the base of his cock.  He stirred and I froze.  Nothing
else happened, so I continued my exploration of his cock, softly holding
it.  Gently, I lifted it out of his pajama fly.  I eased back his foreskin
and could smell his dick.  I leant forward, mouth open, tongue extended
until the tip of my tongue brushed his knob.  It wasn't too bad.  After all
he had sucked mine last night, it couldn't too nasty or he wouldn't have
done it.  I licked his dickhead.  I opened my mouth wide and slid my lips
over his glans.  It swelled in my mouth, filling it to stretching point.
The dick was getting longer and harder.  And, I became aware that the
snoring had stopped and that Gordon was awake.  I pulled my mouth away and
emerged from the dark cavern of the bedclothes.

	"Well, my randy little wanker.  So you can't keep your hands or
your mouth off it."  He whispered and I giggled in relief to know that he
was not cross with me.

	"I want to get back to sleep soon so I need you to do me a favour."

	"What is it?  What do you want me to do."

He unfastened the pajama bottoms and pushed them down and off his legs.  He
threw back the bedclothes and raised his knees up to his chest, holding
widely spread.

	"Get down and wet the fingers of your left hand with spit and push
a couple of fingers up my bum."

I shuffled down and stuck the first towo fingers of my left hand into my
mouth and coated them liberally with spit.  I rubbed them on his hole but
he grunted when I tried to push them in.

	"More spit"

I spat on his bum crease and shoved my fingers up his bottom.  It was very
hot in there.  I wiggled them around a bit.

	"Right.  That feels good but try to find a lump.  It's the other
end of my dick deep inside my body."

I could see the thick ridge of his cock below his balls and down to his
arsehole.  I felt towards it deep inside him and my fingers met a firm
lump.  I rubbed it and he groaned.

	"Does it hurt?"

	"No.  It feels fucking fantastic.  Just keep rubbing it whilst you
wank or suck me."

I firmly stroked it with both my fingers as I played with his hard dick and
mouthed it.  The lump inside him got bigger and harder.  I rubbed it harder
and he groaned and humped his bum against my invading hand.  His cock
erupted in squirt after squirt of hot creamy spunk.  It splashed on my
face, in my mouth, in my hair and onto his chest.

Gordon released his legs and pulled me up to him.  He kissed me with his
mouth open and pushed his tongue into my mouth.  It was so personal, I knew
that he loved me.  He licked the spunk from my face and strands of hair.
And I licked it from his chest.

	"Mmmm.  Yummy."  I said, licking my lips.  "Like sherbet and
bleach."

	"Your turn and then back to sleep."

	"No.  It's all right.  I don't need to."

He kissed me and drew me close into his arms and softly wept.  He told me
that he missed his mum.

Thereafter, we established a pattern of love making.  We would tickle each
other, hug, kiss, wank, suck and finger each other.  Over the year, my dick
grew to 4 and a half inches and I produced thin watery cum.  I was very
pleased but regreted the fact that now once I'd come it took much longer
for me to come again.  With my enlarged dick, Gordon invited me to fuck him
from time to time.  It was great!  He also taught me to enjoy being rimmed
and rimming him.  I would only do it when I was sure that our bottoms were
clean and he wouldn't fart in my face.  I was intrigued at how sour it
tasted, - a bit like lemondrops but not as sweet.  I saw him at Christmas,
Easter and summer again.  His father moved to the coast and Gordon and I
never slept together again.


My sex life went on hold until I was 18.  Oh, sure I wanked, of course, and
I would stick fingers or other suitable objects up my bum from time to time
but no sex with others.  I fell in love with guys but did nothing about it.
I treasured my dad's photo and imagined making love with the teenager he
once had been.

	"We've been invited out tomorrow night.  It's Terry's birthday and
he's having a do at the Wheatsheaf."  Dad announced as he returned from
work one Friday evening.  He went on to explain that Terry was a lad at
work.  The fact that my mother and I did not know this Terry did not
detract from the idea of going out to celebrate.  I had turned 18, had
finished my A level exams and was just waiting for the results.  I was
curious as to why Dad was so keen to go as he wasn't one to socialise
usually.

We arrived at the pub the next night with a card that we each had signed
and a small gift.  Terry saw us enter and threw his arms around my Dad and
nuzzled his neck.

	"George.  I'm so glad you came.  I wasn't sure that you would.
Everybody, this is my friend, George."

I looked at Terry.  He had been at the same school, same year as I, until
he left at 16, two years ago.  We'd never been friends but he was quite
attractive.  I liked him but it had never occured to me to fancy him.  He
looked from my Dad to my mother then to me.  He caught my eye and blushed.
Suddenly, I knew and he knew that I knew.  My father would go to work an
hour earlier than necessary.  He said that it was to have a drink of tea
and read the paper before starting work.  Obviously, he started working on
Terry each morning.

Terry recovered and greeted my Mum and me.  The evening was OK - nothing
special.  Dad seemed taken aback that Terry and I knew each other but it
didn't take long for him to realise that he should have known anyway.
Neither of my parents were aware of the insight that had passed between the
two of us.  Terry seemed to avoid me.  Before leaving, I managed to get him
on one side and obliquely refer to his relationship with my Dad.  He
confirmed my suspicions but since we were not speaking openly I could not
question him further.

I looked at my father in a new light.  All the years I had harboured my
fantasies about sex with a teenaged Dad got re-attached to my Dad as he was
now.  I pictured with some envy and jealousy the possible activities of
Terry and my Dad.

	"Dad?  Terry's quite fond of you, isn't he?"  I asked the next day
when my mother had gone out.

	"Well, yes.  We're mates, I suppose."

	"This is special, though.  Workmates in Britain don't hug each
other like that.  And I wouldn't usually expect such closeness between men
who are so different in age."

	"He lost his Dad when he was 12, I think.  Maybe it's a sort of
father-son thing."

	"We don't have any father-son thing, as you put it.  I think the
last time we hugged was when I was about six."

	"You sound jealous.  You're not, are you?"

	"Yes.  As a matter of fact, I am.  I don't feel loved by you.  You
never tell me.  You never show it.  Yet, you freely hug a young man of my
age who is nothing more than a work acquaitance.  I say, acquaintance but I
feel that there is something much more going on.  I saw the way he looks at
you.  He loves you.  And it is not because you are a father figure to him."

	"First of all, surely you know that I love you.  You're my son.  I
don't have to tell you that you're loved.  But, what are you implying when
you say there's much more between Terry and I."

	"I spoke to him.  Not in detail, of course.  But I know and he,
more or less, confirmed it.  You and he are lovers."

	"Don't be ridiculous.  I'm a married man."

	"A married man who rarely has had sex with his wife.  Remember, you
said that you both have a low sex drive.  You don't need sex in your
relationship, quote - unquote.  A married man who starts going to work an
hour early once a certain young man leaves school and begins working with
you.  Married men can be gay or bisexual, you know."

	"Terry looks quite a lot like you, you know.  Don't shake your
head.  Maybe you can't see it.  Do you know why I don't hug you or kiss
you?  No, you don't.  It's because I want to do more than that.  My uncle
had sex with me from the age of 6 until I was 14.  I was scared in case I
ever did that to you.  Terry came to work and I thought how like you he is.
Same age, same colouring, same build.  I would watch him and think of you.
I would want him but it was only because I wanted you.  Well, at first,
anyway.  Yes, cleverclogs.  You worked it all out.  We're lovers and we do
love each other.  To begin with he was a substitute for you and I was the
father he missed being close to.  Over the past couple of years it's
shifted."

	"Now, for my confession.  From a fairly young age, perhaps 7 or 8
I've wanted to have sex with you, Dad.  Wait.  Perhaps not sex when I was
so young but I had romantic feelings towards you.  Especially that photo of
you at 17 or 18.  Since puberty, those romantic fantasies have been
unmistakably erotic and explicitly sexual.  That's why I'm jealous of the
feelings you have to him and envious of the relationship he has with you.
Soon, I'll leave home and go to university leaving you and Terry to have
what I'll never have from you."

He held open his arms and I rushed into his embrace and we covered our
tearstreaked faces with kisses.  I could feel his hard cock poking at my
hip.  My erection blossomed and I pushed back.  I slid my hand down between
us and felt at the tube of rigid flesh at his crotch.  He groaned and said
"No" but it didn't sound as if he meant it.  I unfastened the top button of
his pants and unzipped his fly.  My hand groped inside, feeling his
throbbing dick through his underpants and caressing his balls.  His crotch
felt so hot as if he had a fire in there.  I pulled his head to me with my
other hand and pushed my tongue into his mouth.  He sucked on it, flicking
it with his.

I pulled his trousers down and they slid to the floor.  I unbuttoned his
shirt and took it off.  He stood in his bulging jockeys with his pants
round his ankles.  I kissed and licked at his nipples, nibbling them as
they hardened and protruded.  My hands traced down over his waist and
pulled down his underpants.  He dick sprang up to jut 7 inches from his
hairy pubes.  It was thick and juicy and the head poked out fully from the
foreskin.  It was no match for Gordon but it was my Dad's.  This very dick
had squirted the sperm which made me.  I got to my knees and took him into
my mouth.  He held my head on either side and pumped his meat in and out of
my mouth as I licked and sucked.

	"Stop a minute.  Get your clothes off.  I want to see you.  I want
to do you, too."

I practically ripped my Tshirt and jeans off.  Trying to pull off my
trainers and socks.  Dragging down my underwear and freeing my jerking
seven inches.  We lay on the floor, head to crotch, and vacuumed away with
our mouths on those succulent dicks that we had wanted for so long.

	"Suck your Daddy's dick, love." He mumbled into my groin.

	"I'm sucking it, Dad.  I love my Daddy's dick.  So long and hard
and juicy.  Suck your son's dick, Daddy.  Make me come, Dad."

	"Your dick is so like mine, darling.  It's so great having my own
son's dick in mouth.  And it's like sucking myself off, too.  I've always
wanted to do that."

	"Do you want to fuck me, Dad?  Would it turn you on to fuck your
own son.  To shove your throbbing dick up your son's arse."

	"Yeah.  I want to fuck my son and I want to be fucked by my son's
dick.  To feel his hard shaft filling my arse with his spunk."

We moved further between each other's thighs to lick perineums and at the
crease between buttocks.  I could feel the tickle of his tongue on my anus.
I bore down and his tongue entered my sphincter.  I held his cheeks apart
and pressed at his arsehole with the tip of my tongue.  The resistance gave
way as I swiped back and forth and I insinuated as much of my tongue into
his rectum as I could.  I felt deliciously wicked.  For several minutes we
tongue-fucked each other's bottoms.  Our sphincters relaxed more and more.
I inserted one, then two, then three fingers into his arse.  Thrusting
again and again, probing deep into him.  My hole stretched to his fingers
and he buzzed my prostate repeatedly sending wave after wave of intense
pleasure through my pelvis.

	"Do me now, Daddy.  Fuck me, please."  I rolled onto my hands an
knees and he knelt behind me and slowly inserted himself deep into my
bowels.  I could scarce believe that I had the prick which had sired me
deep within me.  I was filled to the limit with his manhood.  I ignore the
burning pain and revelled in the consumation of my incestuous dreams.
However, no sooner had I relaxed enough to ease the discomfort and find
ecstactic thrills building in my prostate, he gasped and came.  I felt a
liquid warmth in my guts as he sprayed my rectum with his sperm.

Withdrawing he turned to present his spread buttocks to me.  I took my dick
in my hand and aimed it at his anus.  Steadily pushing forward, there was a
sudden give way as he relaxed and my seven inches of hard meat slid inch
after inch into his soft hot rectal sheath.  I paused to give him time to
adjust to the intrusion before hammering my dick in and out of his arse.  I
pounded and pounded with love and lust into my daddy's slippery bowels.

	"Fuck me, son.  Harder and faster, son.  Ohhh.  Darling boy.
Daddy's boy, fuck your daddy, son.  Cum right up my bum.  Ohh.  Yeah.
Ohhhhh."

I reached round and held his dick.  It was semi-hard and dribbling onto the
carpet as I ravaged his prostate with every pelvic thrust deep into him.

	"Aaaahhh. I'm coming.  Oh, god, yes.  Yessss.  I'm coming right up
my own dad's arsehole."

I spastically thrust as deep as could into him and shot again and again my
cum high up into him.

We collapsed together into a heap on the living room carpet.

	"We can't stay like this, Dad.  Mum'll be home soon.  Let's get
dressed.  We can do this again when we have more time."

	"You're right, son.  Give us a kiss, then, first."

As he got up and began to dress, he looked round at me and grinned.

	"Do you think Terry might be interested in a threesome before you
go off to Uni?"

I giggled and kissed him again.