Dad's Housewarming Gift

	This is a true account of events that changed my life forever.
Although in the retelling it may seem a bit contrived, each fact is true.
Had it not happened in the way it did, I would probably not be compelled to
share it with you.


On my 18th birthday, I had decided that enough was enough.  I had
to move out of my parents' house and find a place of my own.  Having gone
through puberty at a very young age--I was 11 years old when I began to
sprout the first course, brown hairs on my face, arms, and legs-- the past
several years had been fraught with exploring my budding sexuality in
secrecy.  Hiding the porn magazines and watching my videos late at night
when no one else was awake had become tiresome and a bit silly.  I had to
get out and investigate my sexual options away from prying eyes.
        
My parents took my decision with some trepidation, fearful that I
would forfeit my education for the temptation of what seemed like a big
paycheck at some menial job.  After convincing them that their fears were
unfounded, we set out to find me a decent apartment.
        
My savings spent on first and last months' rent and a security
deposit, and up to my ears in debt for my sparse furniture, I finally had
my own small, one-bedroom apartment several miles away from my parents--but
close enough that they could check on me periodically.  My father insisted
that I give them a key in case of emergency.  It seemed only slightly
strange to me at the time, but in retrospect, I'm glad he persisted.
        
Dad and I have never had much in common.  We were just born
different, I suppose.  He is a large, very masculine man, had been a star
athlete in high school and college.  I was always a slim, slightly
uncoordinated boy, more interested in reading and music than in sports.
Furthermore, the adoration shown to my father by other men was rivaled only
by the sexual interest exhibited by almost every woman he ever met.  My
interest in girls was almost nonexistent, a fact that seemed to worry my
mother more than my father, however.

Despite our differences, I was very proud of my dad.  As I stood in
my new apartment, I remembered the first time I realized how much I admired
my dad.  It happened one night when a group of my friends stayed for a
sleep over.  We were a rowdy group of about 6 junior high school boys, and
made quite a lot of noise, well into the night.  My parents had yelled to
us several times from their bedroom, warning us to quiet down, but we
continued as young boys do.  Finally, my father came into the den where we
were sleeping to put an end to it.
        
He wore only a tight pair of white briefs, his large chest carpeted
with thick, black hair was quite visible in the moonlight from the window.
His nipples were erect and I could see that he sported quite
a large erection beneath his underwear, explaining his agitation.  We all
realized, I think, that my parents had been trying to have sex, and our
raucous was distracting them.
        
The next day, I expected to be teased incessantly by my friends for
what had happened the night before.  It's embarrassing enough to discover
that your parents still have sex, without having a half dozen friends as
witnesses.  To my surprise, my friends reacted with envy and awe,
apparently impressed by my father's physique. "I wish my dad looked like
that," one said.  "I hope I look like your dad when I'm a man," said
another, "cause my dad's a fat pig compared to that!"  I was relieved and
proud, and felt a little excitement I wasn't quite able to understand.  I
was actually getting an erection thinking about my old man standing there
half naked in front of six admiring young boys.  But rather that being
traumatized by these feelings, I was rather amused by the whole thing.
        
Things were different between my dad and me after that episode.  I
never discussed it with him, of course.  But, my change in attitude had
alleviated some of the tension between us.  Through junior high and high
school, I spent as much time with him as possible.  I couldn't do the
things he loved the most (sports, exercising, or working on old car engines)
but I would hang out with him as he did them.  I loved my dad; and the
truth is, I was falling in love with him.

So, here I stood a few years later, in my new apartment, surrounded
by about two dozen light brown cardboard boxes, each sporting a label
reading "clothes," "books," or some other identifying remark.  I had
insisted on doing the unpacking alone; one never knows when a renegade porn
magazine, video, or other sex-related article might crop up unexpectedly.
I dug into the first box, one marked "clothes" and began to sort the
various shirts, socks, underwear, or shoes into their places.
        
Determined to get the job finished all at once, I worked well into
the night.  At about 11:00pm, I was down to the last box.  Picking it up, I
was surprised to see that it was different from the others.  This box was
considerably older, and emitted that familiar, bittersweet smell of aged
cardboard.  Tearing the seal of duct tape from the lid, I turned one fold
of cardboard and then another, until the lid was open.  This chore had
become mundane through repetition over the course of the evening, but
suddenly a spark of excitement mixed with shock and embarrassment shot
through my body as I focused on the contents.  This box was full of porn!
And old porn, some of it obviously from the 1960s and before!

       
"My God," I thought, "This is my dad's porn collection!" My mind
racing to understand how this box could have ended up here, I couldn't help
but sort through the 50 or so magazines, dozens of photos, and seven or
eight old-style reels of film.  Looking closer at each, I came to a
startling realization.  This was no ordinary collection of girly mags; my
father was in these pictures!  There he was, in picture after picture.
Sometimes a single photo of him, a young man, chest shaved, and posing in
one of those odd positions body builders use to show off their physiques.
Other times, it was hard core stuff, showing him in a leather jacket,
sporting a goatee and laying on a bed with this woman or that, each giving
him pleasure in various ways.

To add to my amazement, my father was hung like an elephant.  Being
largely endowed myself, I knew that his cock had to be at least as big as
mine.  But I was totally unprepared for this!  It must have been 11 inches
long and as fat as a soda can!  The pained expressions of many of the women
offering him a piece of ass indicated that he knew how to use it, too.  I
was completely stunned.  My father was at one time a porn star.

The reels of film were by far the most exciting prospect to me.  My
cock now raging with a hard on, I had to find a projector somewhere.  It
seemed to me that we had one in my childhood, but the idea of rummaging
through my parents' garage at 11:00 at night was not very appealing.  That
treat would have to wait until another time, that is unless someone came
looking for this lost treasure before I had a chance.

By midnight, I had sorted the contents into four stacks, each
separated according to the approximate age of my father in the pictures.
It looked as if he began to do some of the softer stuff in his early teens,
and continued until his mid-thirties, well after I was born.  Surrounded by
pictures of my naked father, I began to get very excited.  I had to
unbutton my jeans and release my aching cock from its prison of denim.
Standing there with my cock out and erect, I just couldn't help it; I had
to jack off to these beauties.  Photos and magazines littering the floor, I
spat into my hand and began to rub my cock.  The sensation was incredible,
lust mixed with a kind of fearfulness that comes only from knowing that
what you're doing is considered wrong.

Just as I began to get seriously into my self-satisfaction, I heard
a slow creaking sound.  It was the front door!  Someone was coming in!  I
rushed over and turned off the light.  In the dark, I tried to pick up the
incriminating items, but it was too late.  The door to my bedroom was
opening.  It was all over; someone was going to catch me doing the most
embarrassing thing imaginable, jacking off to the idea of having sex with
my own father.

As the door opened completely, gently tapping the wall, I froze
with fear and humiliation.  "Oh, I see you found it," said a deep, familiar
voice.  "It suppose you might call it a housewarming present, but I like to
think of it as an heirloom," my father's voice rumbled softly.  I looked up
to see him standing in the doorway, a broad smile spread across his face as
he moved toward me.  Out of pure reflex reaction, I flinched.  "Hey, take
it easy, pal," he said soothingly.  "I'm not gonna hurt ya.  There's no
tellin' what else I might do though.  That hard cock of yours is turnin' me
on somethin' fierce."

"What?" I asked.  "Why so surprised," he asked.  "I think you must
know by now how I love sex, all types of sex," he continued.  "Oh!  You
couldn't know, could you?  I forgot to pack the projector in there.  All
those films there, they're copies of the alternative' stuff I've done."
I sat on the floor, and covered my crotch in embarrassment.  "But don't
worry, that's why I'm here.  I brought this so your collection would be
complete."  As he said this, his right arm raised to reveal an old gray
reel-to-reel projector.

In moments, he had it plugged in and was feeding one of the films
into it.  Despite its age, it projected onto the wall an almost perfect
image of my father in his prime.  There was my dad at about 20 years,
laying on a brightly colored couch, silently letting a young man of about
17 suck his large cock for all he was worth.  I was amazed at how much of
this huge piece of meat this kid was able to swallow.  Uttering my first
words, I sputtered, "How the hell does he do that?"  My father chuckled
slowly.  "I guess he'd had a lot of practice, Son."  "It's just so damned
big," I replied, forgetting for the moment that I was speaking to my
father, and about his own cock!  "Well, thanks, kiddo.  But I don't think
you have anything to be jealous of," he said, looking down at my
half-covered erection.

We sat there for several minutes, watching the semi-ridiculous plot
of this cheap porn film being carried out on my wall.  Then, suddenly, the
film ran out, the loose end slapping the floor repeatedly.  "Well, what did
you think," my father asked.  "It was incredible," I said honestly.
Looking down instinctively at my fathers crotch, I noticed for the first
time that he was as excited by the whole thing as I was.  Bulging through
the material, down the left side of his jeans for at least a foot was an
outline of one of the largest cocks I've ever seen, a dark circle of precum
the size of a quarter encircling the end.

"Would you like to try it for yourself, Son," he asked.  I just sat
there, staring nervously at this marvel of genetics, wondering what it
would feel like throbbing in my hand.
        
Saying nothing more, he reached over and shut off the projector.
The room went black for a moment, and as my eyes began to adjust to the dim
light coming from the window, I could see my father standing over me, his
shirt removed, fiddling with his belt to remove his jeans.  For a moment, I
was taken back to that evening not long before when he stood lecturing my
friends and me in the den.  In most respects, he looked exactly the same;
his chest was still broad and extremely muscular, the thick black chest fur
now sprinkled occasionally with gray hairs, however.  I was entranced and
dizzy with lust.

After removing his pants, my dad reached down and picked me up with
ease.  Laying me on the bed, he began to caress my body with his large,
warm hands.  Removing my clothes and throwning them in a pile on the floor
with his, he kneeled over me, looking over my young body admiringly.  "God,
you're sexy, son," he said breathlessly, the sharp smell of beer on
his breath.  We must have been quite a contrasting pair, laying there in
the moonlight.  Him, large, muscular and covered with an
outline of dark black body hair; me, slender but taught, with an almost
hairless swimmer's body.  We lay down together each exploring the other's
body with hands and mouth.  I went almost immediately for his large, erect
nipples.  As I covered the first with my hot mouth, Dad threw his head back
and let out a long, deep moan.  Fueled by his ecstasy, he grabbed me by the
hair and shoved my face into his hard pec.  I sucked and flicked my tongue
as fast as I could, amazed by the length of my dad's teat; it was like a
small lifeless tongue sliding in and out of my mouth.

Wrapping his huge arm around my back and shoulders, and grabbing my
head with the other hand, I was suddenly flung up away from the chest I
made love to, a hot, slimy tongue now being shoved into my mouth.  It was
so long I nearly choked on it, but I loved the feeling more than life
itself.  Warm saliva flowed in waves from my father's mouth into my own.  I
swallowed it greedily, dazed with excitement.  I wanted this violently
wonderful embrace to last forever.  But my father had other plans.  Licking
his way down my neck and past the electrically charged skin of my right
nipple, dad made his way down to my crotch.  Within seconds, my cock was
engulfed in the white heat of his mouth and throat.  My head reeled.
Fantastic visions flashed intermittently through my racing mind, visions of
childhood, of tortured nights fantasizing about this or that film star.
But these were peripheral desires; my true fantasy was now being realized.
I was making love to the only man I had ever truly loved: my own father.
        
As quickly as these hallucinations began, they suddenly stopped.
Dad was now standing at the side of the bed and began advancing toward me,
his large, erect cock shooting out from his hips like some ridiculously
exaggerated illustration of the perfect man.  His cock so large it could
not stand completely to hold tight against his stomach like so many of the
smaller cocks men sport.  Gravity had its way with this monstrosity,
causing it to curve out and down away from its egg-sized, low hanging
balls.  Nervously, I opened my mouth and waited.  The soft touch of my
father's hand slowly caressed my cheek, as the first few inches of his
soft, musky cock slid across my lips and into my eager mouth.  Another low
moan escaped his lips, filling the room and vibrating in my chest.  It
seemed as if there were no end to the slab of pulsing fuck meat slithering
into me, each inch of length gradually accompanied by in increase of at
least a half inch of thickness.  My mouth and throat were full and bloated
with the most private and intimate part of my father's body...and I was in
heaven.
        
I was immediately amazed at how much of my dad's cock I was able to
swallow without any previous experience.  In spite of my amazement, or
perhaps because of it, I opened my eyes and looked up at my father.  His
light blue eyes revealed his bliss, staring down at me with the affection
that comes only from a father's love for his son.  Slowly, my dad began to
pump his hips, sliding at least five inches of his cock past my lips and
back down my throat with each full movement.  Wanting him to abandon this
gentle introductory method, I reached around him with one hand and grasping
one of his rock hard butt cheeks, I shoved his hips harder and harder into
my face.  "Oh, you really like this," he whispered.  "You
want daddy to fuck your face harder?  You got it, bitch!"  With this, my
dad grasped the back of my head with both hands, and gripping my hair in
each fist, rammed his hips with wild abandon into and away from my face.
His long ball sack, weighted down by his huge, veiny nuts struck against
the outside of my throat with a loud slapping sound, each time accompanied
by my dad's primeval grunt.
        
During the entire ordeal, I had been pumping my own large cock, my
balls hanging low between my legs, being squeezed by my flexing buttcheeks.
"Oh yeah, pal.  Pump that cock so daddy can watch you.  Be Daddy's little
whore tonight.  You make Daddy feel so good," my father moaned mindlessly.
        
Finally, it was all we could take.  A strange look came over my
dad's face, a look of fear and anger, mixed with pain and rapture.  Still
quite long, his balls rose slightly as the first spasmodic pulses began
near the base of his cock.  Stopping for a moment in mid thrust and
throwing his head back like a wolf ready to howl, his entire body began to
tremble.  The first surge of cum began pouring down my
throat.  For a moment I began trying to swallow, but realizing that the
position of my dad's cock so far down my throat made this unnecessary, I
concentrated on making the event more enjoyable for him.  I reached out
quickly and took hold of his ball sack, sliding both nuts into my hot mouth
with one swift move.  With this, my father let out a loud, deep howl of
ecstasy.  The quantity cum flowing into my belly from this one climax was
shocking.  I could actually feel it running hot and sticky down my throat
and into my chest.  With this came the sudden awareness that I was now
being filled with the same juices that had helped to create me eighteen
years earlier.  The very idea made me wild with desire, and I began to
shoot hot, white strings of cum onto my face, chest, and torso.  Covered
with my own jism, and still swallowing my father's, I had reached a state
of elation no drug could come close to producing.
        
Relatively quickly, I had spent my load completely, and eventually
awakened to the fact that I was still sucking on my father's now-spent,
half erect cock.  He brushed the light brown hair back from my forehead
lovingly and patiently, watching me suckle his cock.  Then slowly, he slid
his cock out of my mouth and lay on the bed next to me.  "I'm all sticky,"
I protested, as he reached over to cuddle with me.  "I don't mind, kiddo.
I kinda like it," he answered.  We lay together, kissing and caressing each
other for several hours before finally falling asleep.

	I awoke to yet another surprise...but that's another story.