Date: Fri, 23 May 1997 17:38:36 -0700
From: jake7@electriciti.com
Subject: First Time with Dad #8

As I stared at the mirror, it felt like I was viewing the image of us locked
together
through my body. It was like my chest had eyes, like my shoulders and stomach
had eyes, like my crotch, my cock, my balls had eyes. Like the sweat between
us had eyes. My whole body was on alert, watching..facinated, as it placed
this event
in my memory.
The placement of this image by-passed my brain, and imprinted itself within
my whole body....Like the SMACK of a young fist into the sweet, leather palm
of a new baseball mitt.    
It took a minute...... then another minute, then it began to subside, and I
realized it was done. He hadn't moved or made a sound, and I was grateful
for this silence. I stared down  between us at my cock buried in his
asshole. I was still hard.
But I grabbed his hips and slowly began to pull out. The  head of my cock
reached the inside of his rim,  and I paused for a second then pulled back.
As I left him there was a small sound........It sounded like a quick kiss.
After a moment he rolled over and looked up at me. It took a few seconds for
a vacant stare to leave his eyes. I wondered where he was...lost in that stare.
Then he focused on me standing over him and smiled. I walked forward on my
knees to get closer, and stared at his face....searching.
He stared at my cock as I knelt above him. It reminded me of the look on
people's faces when they are introduced for the first time to someone they
have heard a lot about.
Then I simply fell down on him, and we lay chest to chest for a long time.
No talking, no disclosures, no explanations. Just exhaustion, and a new
understanding for both of us. 
When I got up off him he was asleep on the floor. I showered, and left the
house.
I met up with my friends after they got out of school,  and spent the rest
of the day  roaming around town, hanging out, and paying only vague
attention to their kidding remarks about me seeming "spaced out", and asking
me why I had missed school.                                 

                                            -------------------------

Even before I arrived  home that evening I knew things had changed. I could
feel it within me. I didn't know what form this change had taken in my dad,
but I knew he would be different. I had been quietly boiling inside all day.
There was a feeling of exhiliration...release.....a feeling of ease,
passionate ease. Confidence.
When I got back to the house, he was in the kitchen making dinner. His
favorite classical music was playing loud from the family room, and he was
busily engaged
in making one of his rare "feasts" as he described them....a welcome departure
from the "pizza feasts" we had been living on in my mom's absence.
I yelled "Hey, I'm home" as I entered, and sank into a kitchen chair. He
turned and
looked quickly at me over his shoulder.
"Hey" he said,"One special feast coming up". Then he looked back briefly to
the sauce he was making. After a quick moment of stirring and dipping his
finger in the bowl for a taste, he looked back at me. It was a brief but
intense stare, then a wide smile slowly tugged the corners of his mouth up,
and lit up his eyes. It was a big gentle smile, with expectant eyes. He was
asking if everything was OK. My heart soared, and a similar smile lit up my
face. I stared at him, started to chuckle,
and enjoyed the ease with which my quiet laughter changed into an expectant
grin. I kept staring at him. He held my stare, and after a long moment a
knowing grin
teased at his lips.
He reached behind him without turning, and stuck his finger into the bowl on
the counter. Then he walked across the kitchen and said in his best mock
serious tone 
"Here try the sauce" as he stuck his coated finger toward my face. I did my
best to stiffle a grin, and opened my mouth. His thick middle finger
decended and entered my mouth.
"Dinner should be ready in 15 minutes" he said as he worked his finger
around the inside of my mouth, all the while grinning slightly. I wrapped my
tongue around his finger, and played along with his game...pretending to be
offhand and serious.
He pulled his finger out of my mouth slowly, and said "How does it taste?"
I looked up at him and said, with a thoughtful pretense "Hmm salty, and a
bit like bleach"
He tilted his head forward and stared down at me, as if looking over a pair
of reading glasses. His best stern, fake professor look. 
"It appears the tuition we spent for your gourmet cooking classes was wasted"
"Either that, or you can't cook for shit" I replied.
We both laughed at this, and my gaze drifted down to his crotch. He stood
still, close in front of me. I felt the mood shift, and without thinking
reached out and cupped my hand up between his legs. He just looked at me for
a moment, This
was.....had been... his type of move.
He stepped back, turned and walked to the stove. As he bent over to lower
the flame and stare at it for a second, my cock twitched at the sight. He
stood up and turned toward me. 
"Like I said, fifteen minutes until dinner...." There was a flat, almost
expectant tone
to his voice. My voice lowered to meet his tone. "Plenty of time" I said as
I stood up and tok a few steps away from him into the family room. After
that there were no words.
I walked to the center of the room, turned to face him, and just pulled down
my zipper. He fell to his knees in front of me and pushed his face toward my
crotch
while he started ripping his shirt off. I just grabbed the back of his head
and stuffed my cock into his mouth. As he sucked me, he kept removing the
rest of his clothes.
I was doing the same, and in a minute we were naked and I was fucking his face
furiously. After awhile he grabbed my wrists and pulled me down to my knees.
Then he kissed me hard forcing his tongue down my throat, and grabbed my tits
hard. I took it as long as I could, then pulled his hands away and grabbed
his balls hard. After that it was all wrestling and wet biting sex. I loved
it. We were two kids
two men....reaching, grunting, grinning both with the same mindless goal.
It ended when, at one point he was on his back. I had had enough rough foreplay,
and just grabbed his hair and forced my cock into his mouth. His eyes opened
wide, and I just stared down at him. I pushed the first three inches into
him, and started to jerk my cock from the base. His hands left my shoulders
and fell back
spread out wide on the rug. I wanted his mouth, and was taking it. My fast
steady
thrusts increased as I saw drops of sweat fall from my face on to his
flushed face.
I used his mouth for a minute then groaned loudly as I started to cum. He
gulped and gagged a bit while it poured down his throat, but his eyes were
shining and wild at what was being done to him.
By now he had reached down and wrapped his hand around his cock. He started
to jerk it, and as I pulled out of his mouth I put my middle finger in my
mouth, and pulled it out covered with spit. He kept working at his cock, but
his legs spread and lifted reflexively. I kept his gaze as I reached down
between his cheeks and firmly
inserted my finger into his asshole. His head jerked back quickly as I
entered him
but he never missed a stroke. I pushed in further till I could go no
further, and tried to match the rocking motion of his strokes. The strokes
increased as he approached orgasm, and I dug my finger deeper and looked
into his eyes as I knelt over him. He came with a loud gasp, and I watched
the cum jet up over
his hairy chest to his neck,  marveling at how much I was attracted to the
sight of those white streaks laying on that thick dark hair. I worked his
asshole with my finger until he was done, then kept it in as I leaned
forward and spread my tongue
flat against a spot just below one of his nipples that had a large puddle of
cum.
I kept my mouth there for a long moment as I slowly removed my finger from
his ass. Then I rolled over and lay beside him. 
After a long luxurious silence he said "I think the sauce is ready to eat"
"So do I" I said as I reached over and raked my fingers through the damp cum
on his belly.   

We talked animatedly at dinner. It was a long delicious feast, and  we both
ate  sitting naked at the kitchen table in candle light.  

I slept like a log that night with vivid dreams of floating rapidly through
space.
I was naked, standing erect with my arms open, moving faster and faster
toward a dim image in the distance. As I accelerated the image became
brighter and clear. It was my father. Naked, arms open wide, and moving
directly toward me. As we approached, my heart quickened at the impending
collision and my
eyes opened wide. But there was no collision! Instead we passed through each
other...like ghosts. I felt a hot rush go through my translucent body as I
sped along,
and the taste of his body in my mouth. And my body became less translucent,
more solid, and I saw the hint of a symetrical shadow on my chest.

I stirred sometime in the early hours as he entered my room. I never opened
my eyes or even wakened as I felt him pull back the sheet and descend hungrily
between my legs. I could feel the damp hair of his chest against my inner
thighs,
and had a vague image of him running in the pale early morning. He put his
mouth around my cock, still soft, and sucked me until I was hard. Moments
later I came in his mouth. Then I heard somewhere in the distance a quick
slapping sound, a muffled grunt, and then felt a hot wetness on my chest and
belly. Then the soft sound of feet leaving.

I realized later when I woke that the veil that had existed between us had
dropped.
My frantic fantasies and wonderings that had characterized the past weeks began
to slip away as I reviewed, with a strange clarity what had been happening.  The
sex had started....it had moved from awkward, intermittent encounters always
at his initiation, to more explicit  acts in which I felt an active partner.
While the sex had always been good, it had been "body" sex......held back by
my  continued
reservations and detachment. Then I had acted, I had fucked him. I had
fucked my father! And this had changed my mind....something had fused
together within me.
I had no explanation for what had happened. But as the day progressed a
single word wafted up from the recesses of my mind.....lust.

This feeling, this word, must have been seeping from my pores by the time he
arrived home that night. He yelled his usual "Hey I'm home" as he walked
through the front door. He didn't have to yell, because I was only a few
feet away
on the living room couch reading a sports magazine. "Hey!" I yelled, trying
to mimick him. "Oh....good, you're here" he said as he tossed his suit coat
on the chair. His busy entrance demeanor changed quickly as he put his
briefcase down
and started to undo his tie. He just stared at me while doing this. Then
with the most presumptuous, sexy, casual move I had ever seen, he stepped
toward me and slowly pulled down his zipper. 

I don't know how, during the past 48 hrs. he had come to the same
realization I had. Perhaps it wasn't a revelation to him. Maybe it was just
the realization of 
his original goal when he had first seduced me.
When his hand reached his zipper, time slowed. When he looked at me the
background noise of the radio in the other room faded. All I could see and
hear was that zipper, and his thick hairy hand.

Every click of the zipper against the metal teeth seemed like a single bead
on a rosary. The phrases in a litany...designed to build to a single
conclusion. I heard each click clearly as his hand descended in slow motion.
Then I just looked up at him and nodded once, as if he had asked me to go
over and turn on the TV. By the time I was on my knees in front of him I was
hard as a rock. I pulled aside the white 
briefs and pushed my face into the thick dark hair. Searching for his cock
with my hands and tongue. When I got it out I sucked greedily. It took only
a few minutes until he started shooting in my mouth. When I thought he was
done, I pulled my mouth back to finish swallowing and catch my breath. But
he still had more, and a short spurt landed on my cheek and lips.

By now he had his shirt off, though his pants were still on and his belt
still buckled.
He pushed me back on the couch. Without a word he pulled my cut-off sweat
pants down and started to jerk me off. As I lay back, he reached up and put
his hand on my face, then pushed his fingers into my mouth. I sucked them
like a cock. 
He didn't put his mouth on me until I was thrashing around on my back and
ready to cum. Then he stopped pumping my cock and sucked it down his throat.
I didn't know what felt better, cumming in his mouth or sucking his big
hairy fingers while I convulsed on the couch.
When he was done with me, he stepped back and smiled down at me.
"What's for dinner" he said.
"You just had it" I responded, trying not to laugh.

In the days to follow we were like a frantic, newly married couple. We
couldn't get enough of each other... lusting openly for every new taste,
every new position,
every new location in the house....everything was exciting. But what fueled the
rampant lust between us was the unspoken understanding that the barriers had
been removed. The roles between father and son, at least during sex, had slipped
away. It was open season, and the exhiliration, the freedom I felt, seemed
to make my whole body tingle every time I saw him enter the room. The sexual
satisfaction was tremendous, but rather than provide relief, it seemed to
feed on itself. The more I got the more I wanted. I also realized that the
change between us has caused a change within me. I felt myself drifting to
the boundaries of my previous feelings about passivity and aggression, and
stretching them. When he was forceful with me, I would not only give in, but
experiment with acting as passive
and submissive as possible. I tried to be his bitch. As foreign as these
feelings were to me, I relished the experimentation. I was surprised at how
safe I felt doing this. Surprised at how I felt I had lost nothing in the
process...and how it seemed to free me to exert my other side even more. My
aggression toward him
took on a whole new depth of feeling.

I was talking on the phone to my girlfriend one night. She had been a bit
irritated lately because of my "lack of attention", and I was trying my best
to reassure her.
My dad came home from one of his late night runs. When he walked through the
front door, he was exhausted and drenched in sweat. He smiled and waved to
me across the room as I sat cross legged on the floor with the phone to my
ear. He was heading to the shower.

As had become a morning ritual, he had sucked me off  while I lay in bed
half awake. But as always I had been horney all day, especially since we had
missed each other for dinner. I put my hand over the phone and said to him
as he headed for the stairs "don't shower". It was the type of cryptic
statement that had become common between us in the past few days whenever
one of us wanted sex. He stopped, looked back over his shoulder, nodded, and
continued up the stairs. When I hung up the phone ten minutes later, I was
already hard. I walked upstairs and found him doing sit-ups on the floor
beside my parents bed. I stood over him and pulled my shirt off over my
head. When he was done, he stood up and faced me. Then he pulled down his
gym shorts and stepped out of them. I looked down at his crotch and saw it
was damp and his cock was shrivled and laying over to the side over his
balls. His long wet pubic hair was matted against it.
"Hope your not to tired" I said.
"I'm beat" he replied wearily. "But I've got a feeling that doesn't matter"
"You're right" I answered moving toward him.
I grabbed the bottom of his shirt and started to pull it over his head...partly.
He pulled his arms down through the short sleeves, but the neck of the shirt
never got over his head. I flipped the shirt back over his face, with its
neck still around his.
"What is this Klan night?" he said sarcasticly. I could see his stomach
muscles tighten in a short laugh.
"You got it Grand Dragon" I said, trying to temper my chuckling with a stern
tone.
I grabbed his wrists and pushed his hands behind his head. Then I paused for
a moment and let the new found feeling of sexual domination ripple down my
spine until it twitched my cock. It was a welcome friend, first met when I
had mustered the courage to fuck him. I was liking the opportunity to get to
know it better.
He knew I was going to be in charge this time, and I heard a brief sigh
leave his lips from behind the cloth that covered his face. He voluntarily
spread his legs further apart, and locked his fingers behind his head.
I just stared for a moment and felt my mouth get wet as I loked at him. I
could feel the back of my eyes get hot as they searched his body like blue
lasers in the dark.
I stepped forward and grabbed his left shoulder with my left hand. At the
same time, my right hand gripped his huge left bicep. A quick smile crossed
my mind
when I realized that I barely had time to curl my lips back before my mouth 
descended into the thick wet hair of his armpit. I licked this sweaty forest
like a kid with an ice cream cone. Then forced my face even deeper,
inhaling, and rubbing my nose back and forth. Loving the feeling and smell.
Loving the taste of this mans running sweat. Loving it, taking it...without
hesitation or shame.

I switched to his right side when I was done. Then I raked his chest and nipples
with the same blunt ravenous appetite. Long slow greedy licks. The flavor of
sex 
settling deep into the taste nerves at the back of my tongue.

When I was done, I pulled the shirt off his head. I could see the new sweat
beading
on his forehead, and he looked at me with a welcome, weak grin. 
When I pushed him toward the bed, he stumbled briefly before collapsing on
his stomach in the middle of the big mattress. While I was taking the rest
of my clothes
off, I saw him reach up and wrap each of his hands around the spindles of the 
beds head board and spread his legs. I loved that he did it voluntarily,
without a word from me. When I got up over him, I reached down and spread
the cheeks of his ass. My first impulse was to drive my tongue into that wet
hairy crack, but I stopped and just looked down at it. I moved my tongue
back and to the bottom of my mouth and let the spit gather. When I leaned
forward and stuck out my tongue it
was a funnel. The saliva poured down and coated his crack, and I watched it
stream down in slow motion. Surrounding that dark pucker like a wagon train
waiting for the indians. 

Then it was my fingers for a few moments.....then my cock. Slow at first,
then a strong push. He grunted and wimpered, his head in the pillows and his
hands clenching the headboard. I took him gently at first, leaning forward
to lick his back
and bite his sweaty shoulders. Then faster, leaning back on my knees with
both hands holding his cheeks apart so I could see the delicious damp sight
of my cock going up his asshole. I came with a loud yell, and shivered as
the cum left my body and entered him. He responded by bucking his hips up to
meet me, holding them up in brief rythym while I pumped down and shot my
sperm deep into his ass.
When I was done with him, I just lay on top of him exhausted. After
accommodating
my slow descent for five minutes he began to stir. It started as a slow
motion that caught my attention because it started to push my cock out of
him. I pushed forward to keep it in, and he raised slightly off the bed.
Then he began to move 
more quickly as he fucked the bed. I joined his movement and rode him carefully,
my hands squeezing his shoulders as he shoved his crotch into the sheets.
When he came, it was with a loud sustained groan. I thought about reaching
around
and feeling the hot cum spurt from his cock, but instead I cupped my hands
on his sweaty pecs and let him finish. Then I pulled out slowly and left him
there to sleep.
Sex had settled into our daily routine. He would suck me off each morning,
sometimes cumming on me as I lay half asleep, sometimes squeezing my mouth
open and cumming in it. I never really woke up when he did this. I just lay
in that luxuriant state of half sleep and let him use me. 
Then in the early evening we would be sucking and licking each other in the
living room or kitchen. Then, often we would do it again upstairs before
going to sleep.
It was constant, different each time, and I couldn't get enough. We were
acting out every random fantasy that crossed our minds. Most often with
barely a word or two spoken. One of us would initiate the action, and the
other would immediately respond, knowing their role. It was as if all our
previous competitiveness around sports trivia, sports, arm wrestling, and
everything else fathers and sons compete
about had collapsed into a dense critical mass. A black hole, a single
focus. The competition  now seemed to be to prove to each other that
anything was OK. The loser would be the first one to balk. To hesitate, or
question, or say no. But I sensed that this competition also was being acted
out within each of us. 
We would often kid each other briefly after sex, or the next day,about what
we had just done. Kidding, teasing, even veiled compliments at the new act,
the new position, the new stretch in our respective ability to act more
passive or more agressive than the other. But I also began to realize that
he had a much deeper well of fantasy and experience to draw on than me. This
turned me on at first, but  I became aware that I was not as creative as
him. I was especially not able to match him at the creative tension we would
each try to achieve when one of us had chosen to be the dominant one in our
encounters. This, plus the fact that while he
had "used" my ass with his fingers and tongue a number of times, he had never
really tried to fuck me......

to be continued
(Thanks for the many letters of concern..and criticisim..for my having
"dropped out"
 of writing for a couple of months. Sorry for the lapse. Thanks also for the
never ending and tremendously interesting letters about your personal lives.
I wish   I could introduce some of you to each other. Hope I can continue to
meet more of   you in  person!)

Jake