Date: Mon, 15 Nov 2010 17:22:53 -0800
From: James B. <azberan@hotmail.com>
Subject: The hitchhiker and my dad (Part 1)  (Gay-Incest)

This story is fiction. If this story is illegal in your area
or you are underage, I suggest not reading it. This is a
read-at-you-own-risk sort of thing. I can't force you to
/not/ read it. Basically this disclaimer exists to cover my
ass eh? So other usual disclaimers apply. Read at your own
risk. Otherwise, enjoy!


Chapter 1


     Mom was leaving for a couple of months or so to be with
grandpa.  We had stayed at his house for a few months before
school started to keep him company after he had his heart
attack.  Many times before that I could remember my parents
arguing with my grandfather about having him moved down to
the west coast with us, but he was a stubborn old man who
refused to budge and leave the home he had created for
himself.  My grandmother had passed about a decade ago, but
grandpa still did not want to leave his home.

     I remember how my brother Paul and I had listened in on
my folks as they argued about moving the whole family down
to grandpa's house, or at least somewhere closer.  Dad
actually was actually for it, believing that it would be a
lot easier to keep an eye on the old man, and it would do
him good to be so close to family.  It was actually my mom
who was totally against that idea.  My dad at that time the
conversation came up had just gotten promoted at his job.
I'm not sure what he does, but I do know that he works in an
office and has a very important job.  Mom was very proud of
him when he got the promotion, and they celebrated for
months.  Believe me, I heard them celebrating.  That's how I
got my second, and youngest, brother Kurt.  My mom didn't
believe that it was a good idea to suddenly quit his job
right when they finally got where they both wanted him to be
just so they could "take care of a stubborn old man".  My
mom calls him that, she can be very forthright at times, but
I know she loves him.  And that's why she's staying longer
to be with him.  My dad gave in after a few months.  It
seems my mom really didn't want to move back to her
hometown.  I think secretly my dad was relieved to stay in
the city.

     Paul and I are five years apart, I'm 13 (although I'm
almost 14!) and he's 8.  Kurt, the youngest, just turned 4.
Paul is the louder one.  He loves to run around and make as
much noise as he can.  If you see a black haired blur going
past you, it's probably Paul on a sugar rush.  My folks
named me Marcus, or Marc for short.  I'm the quieter one.  I
like to listen, and I'm pretty shy.  Although apparently
people don't think it when they see me.  I apparently don't
look like the silent type.  For some reason people think I'm
charismatic even when I'm doing nothing at all.  I just sit
there in silence, and then all of a sudden I have a whole
bunch of kids sitting around me chatting with each other,
trying hard to get me to join in on their conversation.
It's not that I don't want to, it's just that I've got
nothing to say most of the time.  Kurt is... well, he's
Kurt.  He's probably just like any other 4 year-old.  He
loves to run around, screaming at the top of his lungs (he
gives Paul a run for his money), or he's hibernating for 11
hours.

     My mom's name is Lisbeth, not Elisabeth.  But she goes
by Elle.  Like I said before, she's forthright and says
exactly what's on her mind.  Paul and Kurt rarely get out of
control when she's around cause she has a pretty strict
hand.  But that's not to say she's mean.  She sings us to
sleep every night, gives us a kiss before we go to bed, and
makes a huge fuss every time we get sick (or she thinks
we're sick).  One time she drove to the emergency barefoot
when she was convinced Paul had pneumonia because he sneezed
three times in a row.  I'm not really sure how old she is,
but she doesn't look that old.  And I've heard her say a
couple of numbers before, but they always seem to change
depending on who she's talking too.  She's younger every
time she's talking with this really mean lady that has a kid
at my school.  But most of the time she says she's 33.  Oh,
and she likes to dye her hair red.

     My dad's name is Joe, like the plumber.  I actually
don't know who Joe the Plumber is, but that's what people
around my dad jokes about.  My dad's not a plumber either,
he does something else.  But I already told you that.  It's
not short for anything either.  Both of my parents are not
fat, especially my dad.  I heard one of the older girls in
my school one time say that my parents looked like movie
stars.  My dad's kind hairy.  He has hair on his chest that
peeks out of his t-shirt neck.  And he always has that 5
o'clock shadow on his face.  I know my mom likes it because
she likes to stroke my dads cheek.  A lot of the mom's at my
school also likes to talk to dad a lot and giggle a lot in
front of him.  Dad already had the sex talk with me, so I'm
pretty sure that they like him, and he gets them horny or
something.

     I can't relate though since I haven't hit puberty
yet... I was self-conscious about it for quite a bit until
my dad gave me a talk.  He told me not to be in a rush and
to just enjoy my childhood, so I am.

     Anyways, so Dad wasn't very happy about mom leaving for
a month or so.  At least I don't think he was.  He glowered
a lot, and a lot of times he muttered to himself or looked
confused.  More than once I saw him rub the bridge of his
nose then mess up his hair in frustration.  Something was
getting to him.  I didn't see them fighting though, so I
don't think it was that.  By the time my we had to say
goodbye to my mom at the airport though, he was all smiles
and kissed her for a really long time .  She giggled and
kissed all of us kids goodbye.  Kurt cried a lot and mom had
to calm him down and try to explain that she wasn't going to
be gone that long.  When that was well and done, she boarded
her plane and we watched her plane take off from the car.
We didn't drive out of the airport until her plane was out
of sight.

     Apparently before they left they worked out how dad was
going to handle the whole "taking care of three kids" thing.
Now that they could afford it, they hired a temporary nanny
for the month for us.  They went through a lot of people,
but mom insisted on this guy that had just finished college
or something.  I think it got something to do with the fact
that everyone of the girls that mom interviewed couldn't
stop ogling dad.  The nanny-guy's name is Steve.  Apparently
he had just finished his degree in childcare-something-or-
the-other, and he needed money and a place to stay for a
couple of months, and then on to med school or something.
So he was the one that was going to drive us to school drop
of Kurt at daycare, and then pick us up after school and
even prepare some meals.  The guy really knows how to cook.
And for the time being, he also got free room and board at
one of the rooms in our basement suite.

     In about a week we were able to get a routine down.
School, home, play, homework, sleep for us kids.  Work and
then home for the adults.  I'm not sure what dad did for
fun, he was home a lot and more often than not he just hung
out with Steve before he headed downstairs or out to do his
own thing.

     One night when dad and I were on our way back from the
batting cages (and ice cream afterwards), he slowed down the
car to a stop on the side of a dark road.  The closest
batting cages was close to the edge of town, past the golf
course.  So you had to take the highway to get to it.  There
was a guy walking on the shoulder of the road towards us,
and I was sitting in the back seat where my mom always
insists I sit.

     "Watcha doin' dad?'  I asked.

     "Picking up this hitchhiker," he said "it's gonna rain
out tonight.  Remember Marc, it doesn't hurt to give a guy a
helping hand."

     "But what if he's an axe murderer or something!  Mom is
gonna be so mad!"  I said with wide eyes.

     "Well sport, between you and me, you're mom's prone to
over-reacting.  And it's more likely that he's a guy who
needs some help than an axe murderer.  Besides," he said
with a lopsided grim and flexing his right arm to show his
muscles "I won't let anything happen to you buddy."  He
winked.

     The passenger window rolled down when the hitchhiker
reached our car.  The guy didn't look that old.  At least he
looked younger than dad, even then dad wasn't that old.  But
even then he also needed to shave like dad, and while dad
preferred the short, cropped hairstyle, this guy pulled his
wavy hair back in a ponytail.

     "Need a ride into the city?"  Dad asked.

     "If you guys don't mind."  The hitchhiker said with a
smile.  He had really straight teeth.

     "Hop in."  My dad motioned, and the hitchhiker opened
the door and sat down in the front seat.

     My dad introduced himself, and the hitchhiker gave his
name was Brandon, and the two of them shook hands.  My dad
threw his thumb in my direction and said my name.  Brandon
turned around and extended his hand in a handshake.  I took
it meekly and he shook my hand in a tight grip.  I saw that
he had folded up the sleeves of his jean shirt, and that he
had really hairy arms and hands.  And that they also looked
just as muscular as my dads.

     The batting cages was about a 20 minute drive from our
house, so dad and the guy had time to talk.  I would have
thought that dad would have asked Brandon where he was
heading first before they started chatting.  But instead the
two of them just talked about their lives, about this and
that, as if they were old buddies.  We were already half-way
home before dad finally remembered himself and asked where
the guy wanted to be dropped off.  Turns out he was just
looking for the nearest motel.  Apparently he wasn't going
to be in the city long and just hitchhiked his way here for
a temporary job he scored.  He didn't say what though.  When
dad found that out he offered the guy the other room in our
basement suite.  That surprised me, but dad asked so
casually.  Well... I suppose the guy didn't seem threatening
really... he smiled and laughed a lot actually.  But I could
just hear mom freaking out in my head if she found out dad
let a drifter stay in our house for free.

     At first the guy kept on declining, and insisted on a
motel since he didn't want to put dad out.  But dad kept on
insisting.  Said how there was enough room in the house, and
how if it wasn't going to be a permanent situation, then it
would be fine.  The guy was apparently going to be here only
for about a month.  He'd be gone a long time before mom got
home.  Eventually, the guy agreed.

     I suppose that's when the everything began.  A short
while after that, my dad went through some... changes.
Which got me really curious.  Paul doesn't pay attention, so
I doubt he noticed, while Kurt's too young to notice
anything.  And if Steve noticed something, he never really
let on.  Actually, Steve ended up hanging around with Dad
and Brandon more.  Steve and Brandon got along really well
actually.  Brandon got a long with my brothers too.  Even me
actually.  He was a fun guy to be around with.  But all the
while Dad got all of us to not tell mom that Brandon was
there.  Dad had to bribe Brandon with a toy to keep his
mouth shut, but Brandon was already way too happy to have a
secret to keep for dad that he did just that.  Kurt ... well
Kurt's too young to notice much I guess.  Usually he's in
his own little world.  Steve had become fast friends with
dad, and seemed more than happy to keep the secret.  I
didn't say anything 'cause I was afraid of mom going
ballistic if she found out.

     Anyways, the first strange thing that happened was that
after three days or so (maybe less, I don't keep track that
well) Dad and Brandon started going out together more and
left Steve to take care of us while the two of them went
out.  I guess it shouldn't be all that weird, since I've
seen it on T.V. all the time how grown ups go out to bars to
hang out and stuff a lot.  So I figured that's what they two
of them did.  But the two of them always got home really
late.  I only knew this because I woke up one night because
of a loud noise downstairs.  I crept down to see what it was
and found Dad and Brandon staggering into the house drunk
and trying to put the shoe rack upright again, all the while
trying not to laugh out loud.  The two of them crept
downstairs, Dad's arm around Brandon's waist, and Brandon's
arm on dad's shoulder.  It took me a while to go back to
sleep that evening, and I don't remember dad going back
upstairs.

     Brandon himself made me really curious.  I had no idea
what that guy did, but he always left in the mornings too
around the time we do.  Apparently he goes to work.  And at
times he came home way later into the evenings, sometimes
after dinner.  But the weirdest thing that happened was what
I saw one morning (about two weeks after mom had left to be
with Grandpa) when Paul was using the bathroom and I really
needed to pee and decided to use mom and dad's bathroom in
their bedroom.  Dad had just finished taking a shower and
was walking out of the bathroom when I walked in.  He had a
towel around his waist but I could see most of his body and
found that all the hair on his body was gone.  That really
surprised me since I've seen my dad naked when I was
younger, and he takes his shirt off a lot when he gets too
sweaty.  And like I said before he had hair peeking out of
his t-shirt neck, that's how hairy he was.  But now I saw
that there was nothing.  Nothing on his chest, there was no
dark covering on his arms, and not even under his armpits.
His body was hairless, which I've never seen before.

     Dad greeted me with a good morning and asked me what
was wrong, which brought back the reason while I was in his
room in the first place.

     "Paul's hogging the toilet and I need to pee really
bad!"  And with that I ran to the bathroom.

     The entire time though, I was thinking about what I had
just seen.  I wondered why dad's body was suddenly hairless?
Now that I thought about it, I remembered how in the past
week he did shave his face a lot more.  And more often than
not, I saw him a lot less with his 5 o'clock shadow on him.
That's what got me really curious about what my dad was
doing.  But as I kid, I had other things going on in my head
that eventually that quickly slipped my mind and it went on
something else.  Well, at least until that evening.

     It was Friday night and I had already gone to bed when
I woke up in the middle of night once again.  I could hear
someone laughing downstairs that was quickly stifled.  I
sneak out of my room and peeked out of the stairway railings
and into the living room below.  What I saw was something I
didn't expect to see, and it was something that surprised me
to no end.  It was something I wasn't supposed to see until
I was older, or at least until I hit puberty when I became
all interested in it.  It was sex.  But this was different.
The way my dad described it to me was between a man and a
woman.  And what I was seeing was between two men.  Dad had
told me a lot about sex, about what happens, and the
different kinds.  And what he said basically works into what
my friends have told me at school.  So I knew that it was a
guy giving a blowjob to another guy.  But what really threw
me off about this whole thing was that it was my dad that
was giving Brandon, the hitchhiker, a  blowjob.

     The couch they were on wasn't that far from the
stairway, so I had a pretty good look at everything.  And I
saw when dad wasn't putting Brandon's dick in his mouth,
when he was sucking on Brandon's balls, was that Brandon's
penis was very, very big.  It was as big as my dad's face.
When my dad started to suck on Brandon's cock again, the guy
grabbed the back of my dad's head and pushed it down so my
dad took on more of his cock.  I could see veins forming on
my dad's neck, and his face turning red, but he just grabbed
on to Brandon's waist until Brandon let him go.

     "Aaah, yeah."  Brandon moaned "Suck my cock, slut.
Fuck yeah, you like that cock?"

      My dad just grunted in return, and kept on sucking on
Brandon's cock.  I saw my dad gripping Brandon's large
member with his fist while working the head with his mouth.
Every so often he would let go and suck on his balls, before
going back to the cock and trying to shove as much of it in
his mouth.  Brandon seemed to like holding my dad's head
down and having him take as much of his cock as possible
until my dad began to choke, but my dad never complained.
This went on for quite a while, the entire time I worked
hard not to make a sound and get caught.  After a little
while Brandon pulled my dad's head off his cock and told him
to stand up.  I stifled a gasp when he did.

     My dad was hairless everywhere, except for his eyebrows
and his head.  He had no hair on his crotch either, and from
what I could make out, his legs were hairless too.  But what
really took my notice was that something shining on his
nipples.  I didn't remember them when I saw him half naked
in his bedroom a few days ago.  But there they were.
Earrings on both of his nipples his nipples.  Brandon
caressed my dad's chest and pulled and tweaked my dad's
nipples as well.  It was at that time I noticed the
difference in their bodies.  Brandon had body hair, and dad
didn't.  Brandon's chest was coated by fine black fur that
travelled down his abs and into his crotch and legs.  There
were even a few dustings on his should and back.  Dad on the
other hand was completely smooth except for his head.  He
had even shaved, while I noticed Brandon's 5 o'clock shadow.
I also noticed that the entire time, Brandon never touched
my dad's dick.

     After a little while, Brandon told dad to turn around
and bend over.  My father quickly did as he was told and
bent down to touch his toes and expose his ass to Brandon.
His ass was smooth too, and by this time I wasn't all that
surprised.  Brandon began to bury his face in my dad's ass,
and I could even see him working my dad's hole with his
fingers.  He would spit on it occasionally before diving
back in to eat away at my dad's ass.  After several minutes
he leaned back into the couch and spoke to my father in a
hoarse voice, "You know what to do, let's have it", he said.

     Before I knew it my dad turned around and climbed the
couch, arranging his ass directly above Brandon's large
cock.  What happened shocked me beyond belief and I was
forced to bite down on my hand to keep myself from making a
sound.  My dad began to lower his ass on to Brandon's cock
and sat down.  It seemed to take a few tries, and it seemed
like a slow process, so much so that Brandon began making
sounds of frustration.  When it seems Brandon had finally
lost it, he reached up and grabbed my dad's shoulders and
roughly shoved him down his cock.  My dad couldn't help but
let out a loud moan.

     "Yeah, that's right.  Let it out.  Let your kids know
what a big slut their daddy is."  He said roughly, and began
to play with one my dad's nipple piercings with his tongue.
"Tell me what you want bitch."

     "You're cock.  Fuck I want your cock."  My father
moaned out loud, now moving his ass up and down on Brandon's
large tool.  "I want to feel you fill my ass with your cum."
And with that he rode Brandon harder, now seemingly hopping
up and down on his cock.

     The entire time the hitchhiker would let out a long
string of insults and profanities that debased my father,
but it just seemed to get my dad off even more.  One time he
grabbed my dad's neck with one of his hands and seemed to
have grasped hard, but all my father did was open his mouth
wide and moan louder in ecstasy, his rhythm never slowing,
the slapping of his ass on Brandon's thigh never stopping.
He was called a whore, a slut, a bitch, and all my father
said was yes.  It seems that each passing insult was
becoming too much for Brandon and I saw him left my father
and throw him to the face down, his hand gripping my dad's
hair and pushed his face into the sofa.  He pointed his huge
cock into my dad's hole and began resuming fucking him like
a mad dog.

     "Yeah, such a fucking slut.  You're a good slut ain't
ya?"  He asked with the cockiest grin I'd ever seen.  He
pulled my dad's head back with his hair and then spit on his
face.  My dad responded by opening his mouth and sticking
out his tongue.  I could hear Brandon hocking and saw him
spit into my dad's yearning mouth, in the meantime fucking
him harder than ever.

     This went on for a very long time that I began to loose
track of time.  But as soon as I though this I began to hear
a change in Brandon's grunting and panting, becoming more
laboured and intense.  Every time he plunged his cock into
my father was rougher, harder, and longer strokes.

     "I'm going to cum, I'm going to fucking breed your ass.
You want that don't you slut?"  He said hoarsely.

     "Yes please, breed my ass.  Cum in me."  My dad begged.

     "What's that boy?"  Brandon said angrily, grabbing a
fistful of dad's hair and pulled his head back.  "What'd you
say to me?"

     "Please sir!  Cum in me sir!  Breed my ass!  Fuck me
daddy, please!"  My own father moaned.

     Here he was, my hero, the man who I've aspired to be
for a very long time, the man who looked greater than any
men in my eyes, shaven, pierced, and begging to be fucked
harder and bred by a hitchhiker with a bull cock.

     "You want it boy, here it is."  He said with a grunt
and a final thrust and moaned out loud.  I could hear my dad
moaning too, and I would bet that he probably was cumming as
well while Brandon was filling his ass with his spunk.
"Fuck."

     I could see Brandon spasm, his ass driving the cock
deeper into my dad's ass sporadically as he came inside my
father.  After a few minutes he stopped, and all I could
hear was Brandon's laboured breathe.  He pulled out and took
my dad's through with his left hand, and reached down in
front of him with the other.  He seemed to be collecting
something from my dad's ass with his right hand, which he
then brought in front of my father's face.  I saw his palm,
cupped and full of white spunk.  He brought it in front of
my dad's face.  I was surprised by the sheer volume of it
present in his cupped hand, and even more surprised when my
dad started lapping at Brandon's cum like it was water and
he were a dog.

     "Lap it up bitch."  I had barely heard the hitchhiker
mutter.  And that's just what my dad did.

     Before I could be caught, and knowing that I had been
downstairs long enough, I quickly, and as quietly as I
could, made my way back to my room.  The hairs on the back
of my neck stood as I slowly opened the door, hoping that
the hinges would not squeak.  They never did, and I quickly
found myself on my bed and under its covers.  My mind raced
a million miles per hour, thought after thought crossing my
mind, falling on top of each other that I became
disoriented.  My entire body burned, my palms were sweaty,
my toes were cold and hot at the same time, the same as my
chest.  My breathing was laboured, and what was more was
that I had a hard on.  Somehow, I felt exhausted just
watching that display.  The emotions in me were many and
conflicting, and at that moment, and even when I watched,
aside from the shock and surprise, I did not know what to
feel, let alone knew what to do.  As if fatigue made the
decision for me, my eyes closed before I had time to think
of it any further, or to have done something to the hardness
in my pyjamas.

                              ***

     The next day was an awkward one.  It was my dad that
woke me up, a kind smile on his face, at least from what I
could see through my narrow and tired eye lids.
     "Wake up bud, it's almost noon.  You're not gonna sleep
the whole day are ya?"  He chided and walked out of my room
after opening the blinds, letting the sun fill my room with
it's blinding light and heat.

     I lay in bed for a little while, trying to remember
something that happened last night.  My mind was sluggish,
and at that point I still couldn't tell whether or not I
even had a dream, let alone come to the conclusion that it
wasn't a dream.  I forced myself up eventually and made
myself walk over to the bathroom my brothers and I shared to
freshen up before going down to breakfast.  I still couldn't
remember that well while I emptied my bladder and threw
water on my face, not until I had made my way downstairs and
passed by the living room to see something odd...

     "What happened to the sofa covers?"  I said out loud,
to no one in particular.

     "Oh, uh they got ruined last night.  I spilled beer on
it last night, so I put the covers in the wash, and I'm
letting the cushions dry outside in the sun after cleaning
them up."  My dad said while ushering a drowsy Kurt beside
him to the kitchen.  "Come on buddy, up and at 'em."

     I couldn't help but sniff at the air in the living
room.  I began to remember the smell that took me last night
while I watched from the landing.  The musk of the two men,
and the sweat between them.  There was nothing like that in
the air, only value priced air freshener.  Pine forest.  But
I remembered everything that I saw and heard.  Was that
real?  Had that been a dream?  Or nightmare?  I hadn't
decided yet which, if it was.  A voice from somewhere nearby
roused me from my reverie, someone calling my name.

     "Hey boy, watcha standin' there for?"  A tall man with
a broad grin on his rugged, hair shadowed face towered over
me.  "Ain't ya hungry?"  He slapped my back with his two
large hands to usher me towards the kitchen.

     "Oh, morning Brandon."  I stammered.  "I just hate pine
forest."  Was all I could say.

     Brandon just laughed, but for a moment I thought there
was something far more than amusement behind his twinkling
eyes.  Once more he prodded me forward towards the kitchen
door.



Questions, comments, bitches:  azberan@hotmail.com  Cheers
guys.