Date: Thu, 29 Sep 2016 23:52:26 +0000 (UTC)
From: a4f101@yahoo.com
Subject: His Secret Side: Part 1

Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime. You
can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here:
http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/127689440274/

You can also find a whole lot more of my stories here on Nifty - look for
'a4f101' in the Prolific Authors listing.

This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2016. I
own it and all legal rights to it. If you're under the age of majority in
your jurisdiction, please come back when you're of legal age.

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I love hearing from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. Enjoy.

*****

He was hungry. Hungry for me. Every time we were alone, every time he
thought I wasn't looking, he'd stare at me. It had been that way for two
days. I could have taken the edge off for him, let him get his fill as soon
as I got home, but that wouldn't have been right. The waiting was a part of
it.

I'd learned a lot, about myself, about him, about this, about us. I wasn't
a horny 16-year-old kid anymore, getting my big dick drained in the high
school parking lot, in the garage, down in the woods beside the trail
around the lake. Getting it drained whenever I wanted it, drained well, by
a pro. By him.

All that was hot - of course it's hot, you're a walking hardon when you're
16, a cum factory on legs. Nobody swallowed my cock the way he did - and
I'm a big boy, I got a lot to swallow. He took me down to my pubes the
first time out, and when I fired off my load within minutes, he kept me
there, nursing my big, sticky, leaking cock back to another full-blown
hardon. Then he sucked a second load from me.

At first, I figured that was it - I was a big, horny kid getting his balls
emptied on the regular, and of course I liked that. But the more I thought
about it, the more I realized it was bigger than that. There was more to
it. It wasn't just about me - it was about him too. Him, looking at me
hungrily, seeking permission, reaching for the bulge of my cock, for my
fly. Him, sinking to his knees, his eyes fixed on my big young dock as it
emerged from my underwear. Big, hard, the head all shiny.

It wasn't just about the head - it was about the power. The need. His
need. Mine. Yeah, I needed my dick sucked. Yeah, he needed to suck
dick. Most of all, we both needed him to suck mine.

I fucking loved that.

It was a warm night, and I knew exactly what I was doing when I got out of
the shower and slipped on an old wife-beater and some loose old
shorts. Well, they used to be looser, but not so much, not since I was
working out on college-linebacker level. My ass, my thighs, my chest, my
arms, my shoulders were all much bigger than they used to be. Sometimes I
swore my dick was bigger, but that couldn't be right. Maybe all those
hungry suckjobs had helped.

No underwear. Tonight was the night. Time to give him what he craved. And
I'd been thinking about it, for awhile now, ever since I'd fucked our
second-string kicker on his frathouse bed way back at the start of last
semester - fucked him and a whole lot more than that too - it was time to
give him some more. Maybe he wasn't thinking he wanted that, but I was
confident he would, once we got there. The way his hands had started
feeling up and down my big, thick thighs, crawling up the strong muscles of
my stomach as he swallowed me, stared up at me with his eyes all watery and
worshipful - there was more going on in his mind than swallowing my big
linebacker cock.

Just thinking about that made my dick all thick and full and heavy in my
shorts. I was kicked back in the armchair, watching some bullshit on TV,
but really watching the bulge in my shorts grow. Feeling myself starting to
surge, grow, tingle. Waiting for him to come in. And then I heard the back
door creak open, swing closed, and there he was.

"Hey, bud," he said. "Where is everybody?"

"Some church thing, I dunno," I said with a smile. Already, he was looking
me over, all slouched down in the seat, my big bulge growing even as we
spoke. My powerful thighs spread. Arms laid out on the armrests. Ready.

"They won't be back for a couple hours," I went on, meeting his eyes,
giving him a deeper smile. I wasn't arrogant, or pushy about this - I knew
it was gonna happen, and so did he. The vibe was good between us generally,
and times like this, when it started getting deep, it was even better. This
had made us closer, weird as it sounds.

"Oh yeah?" he said, his voice husky, a little catch in it.

"Yeah," I nodded, still smiling, and then just like that, Dad was falling
to his knees in front of me, reaching out for my knees, laser-focused on
the growing bulge of my cock, straining at my shorts.

"Go for it, big guy," I said, and that was all the permission he needed, as
he leaned in and buried his face in the fork of my crotch.

I sighed, grunted as his mouth began to trace over the shape of my cock
through the nylon of my shorts. Already, his hands were sliding up and down
my thighs, feeling their bigness, fingers edging up towards the loose
openings of the legs. I brought my hand down to the close-cropped hair on
the back of his handsome head, urging him even deeper.

Dad was a big guy - I'd got my size from him. Big, and still in good shape,
handsome, an upstanding ex-jock suburban father of three. Loved his
wife. But that was all outside shit. In here, alone with me, he loved my
cock best of all. I was the one who got to see this secret side of him, and
already my shorts were getting soaked with his spit as he ran his hungry
tongue up my almost fully hard bulge. I cupped the back of my head and
gently, but firmly, pulled it back. Still smiling as I looked him in his
eyes, which were already half-hazed with his lust for my big young jock
dick.

"You want more, big guy?" I said, low and deep. He just nodded, and scooted
back a little to watch me stand up, slowly, looming over him, letting him
take in the power of my big young linebacker's frame, my bigger muscles, my
manliness. And most of all, close to nine thick inches of cock, straining
at the spit-wet front of my old shorts.

"Why don't you go ahead and show me, Dad?" I murmured, and he half-grunted,
half-whimpered, already reaching for my shorts.

"Yeah... I know what you've been craving," I went on, as I started to peel
my wife-beater up my big torso, then dropped it on the chair behind
me. "You've been waiting for me to come home so we can do this again,
haven't you, big guy?"

"Ah son," he moaned, and I let him reach for the waistband of my shorts.

He didn't rush it, just slowly pulled them down, exposing the thickness of
my golden bush, pulling the shorts down until the base of my cock showed,
the hard length of my dick all pulled down by the waistband, giving me that
pleasant twinge deep inside it. I know he was hungry for it, needed to see
it, but he almost teased himself. It was all part of this. Teasing it out,
ratcheting up the intensity inside of himself. And then the elastic pulled
down past my head, and my cock snapped up, slapping into my stomach with an
audible sound that made him grunt again. He slid the shorts the rest of the
way down my powerful thighs, until I stepped out of them and stood totally
naked, and hard, before my father. Feeling real powerful, like a god or
something.

"Suck it, Dad," I said, reaching for the back of his head to guide him
close. It was such a trip, seeing the big, confident, take-charge stud
reduced to a stare-eyed, lust-fogged cocksucker. A trip and a huge
turnon. "Suck your boy's cock."

Dad wrapped his big paw around my thickness, and I grunted at the feeling,
before he opened wide and sucked me down to the root. I remember seeing a
nature documentary not long after we started doing this, with this jungle
snake that unhinged its jaw to swallow a pig whole, and I immediately
thought of Dad and boned the fuck up, and then I looked over at him sitting
in this very armchair, blushing as he looked back at me, trying not to let
the rest of the family see his own big hardon growing in his jeans. That
night, after everyone else went to bed, he sucked two big teen cumloads
from me in the garage, in the dark. He'd gotten even better at it since
then, too.

He didn't rush it now, but he didn't drag it out either - just a slow,
smooth, appreciative sweep down the length of me, from the tip to the base,
until his nose was buried in my already sweaty pubes. I let out a deep, low
moan, getting one from him in return as he opened his eyes and looked up at
me, feeling my approval. I smiled and rubbed the back of his head.

"Good boy, Dad," I murmured, and he whimpered and sucked me harder. Fuck
yeah.

Dad kept stroking and squeezing my thighs as he worked my cock over in his
usual talented way, and when I flexed my quads up for him some, he moaned
even deeper around my dick. I knew my instincts were right, and I throbbed
my cock in his throat to let him know how I was cool with that. Then I
reached down, took one of his hands, the one with his wedding ring on it,
and drew it slowly upwards. Up past the top of my thigh, over the edge of
my bush, then up into the thick fur that carpeted my lower belly. I'd been
leaning out a little, my abs were showing pretty damn well from under my
regular beef, and I helped his hand explore over them, tracing the faint
cuts of the muscle, before I drew it up even further. When it reached the
patch of blond hair between the meat of my big pecs, I felt his fingers
curl into it, and I let him do that for a minute, before moving his hand
over my chest. Through the hair, over the thick muscle, down to the
stiffness of my nip. We'd never gone this far - I'd never taken us this far
before. He kept up a low stream of moans the whole time, working doubletime
on my rod, his spit beginning to soak my big, cum-filled balls and drip
onto the hardwood below us.

I guided his hand over to my other pec, my other nip, and his fingertips
found it and began to tweak it on their own. I let his hand go, let it do
its work, dropped both mine to the back of his head and fed him some more
son dick. grunting deeply at him as he tweaked and twisted the thick
stiffness of my nip. I felt the charge of it run through me, all the way to
my cock, and from the husky grunt he let out, I knew I was trickling precum
down his talented, hard-working throat.

"Damn, you suck my cock so good, Dad," I growled. "So fuckin' good. Like
nobody else. `Cos you love sucking your boy's big dick, don't you, Dad?"

His eyes met mine, and he grunted in agreement. Sucked me deeper. I felt
myself shudder, that real deep, real good feeling that I almost never got
from anybody else like this. Just my Dad, working his magic on my big
fucking dick. But now I knew there could be more, and I was going to show
him that.

I took a firmer grip of his head in my hands, and started to slowly fuck
his face. Easing him into it, at first, because I'm a big boy and I'm not
an asshole. But picking up the pace, giving him solid, face-fucking
thrusts, until my big balls were slapping his chin, and his big hands were
gripping my ass as it flexed, not just holding on, but pushing me deeper.

"You know, Dad," I grunted as I fucked his talented mouth, "I love how you
suck my cock. But... I bet there's more we could do. More ways you could
make your boy feel good."

He kind of frowned up at me, and I pulled my cock slowly out of his mouth,
all slicked up and literally dripping, ropes of Dad's spit hanging off it
when it came free. He coughed, cleared his throat, and looked like he was
about to say something, still frowning.

"Come on, Dad," I said, before he could say anything. I reached down,
tucked my hands into his armpits and pulled him up, like he was a kid. Then
I walked naked, my big hard spit-slicked dick leading the way, into my
bedroom.

I didn't have to wait long. I was standing in front of the full-length
mirror on the closet door, checking myself out, liking the progress on my
body this last season. Knowing he liked what he saw too, which made it
twice as good. Twice as hot. I felt studly as fuck, and when he appeared in
my doorway, looking kind of sheepish but also a little hypnotized by the
sight of his big young football player son, naked and bone-hard, waiting
for him. He shuffled slowly, silently into my room, pushing the door closed
behind him, and I knew he was mine.