Date: Tue, 5 Jul 2011 13:39:29 -0700 (PDT)
From: Luke Hairyson <hairynhard25@yahoo.com>
Subject: My Dad's Hands -- Ch.01

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My Dad's Hands--01

I lay on my bed and caress my left hand through the hair on my pecs and
trace the line of it down my abs.  The sunlight is streaming through my
bedroom window, and I look at myself in the mirror across from my bed, my
hard cock aching like I haven't paid him attention in days.  I flex my
cock, the blood engorging the head, making it look even more obscene as the
sun highlights the precum that has begun to drip from the slit down to my
furry treasure trail.  I hear my father moving in the hallway and am thrown
into a vivid memory.

I developed early and was always horny, my cock going hard at inopportune
times and my beard and body hair coming in before all the other boys.  My
mom worked long and crazy hours, and my father was often home more than she
was, which was the reverse of when I was little. I always felt distant from
my father and longed for a closer relationship with him.  He is a retired
military man, quite strict, and definitely not forthcoming with showing
affection besides the occasional hug. Strangely, or maybe not so strangely
seeing as how he used to be around men all the time in the military, he was
really comfortable with me about nudity around the house, often walking
around in only underwear or shorts, especially when it was hot out. He
didn't mind if I ran around in only underwear, and sometimes when it was
excessively hot during the summer he would suggest that I strip off and lay
in front of the fan in my room.  It was sort of an unspoken rule that this
was only allowable when it was just the two of us at home.  One of the
things I fixated on, beside his hard pecs, lightly-haired belly, and
heavily-muscled forearms, were his large hands.  His hands were much bigger
than my own then, and even now as a junior in college his hands put mine to
shame.

The memory that struck me as I looked at myself, throbbing and desirous,
was of something I often used to do when I was a young teenager, something
that I hoped beyond hope would get my dad to show me the kind of affection
I always wanted him to.  I would often come home from school and go to my
bedroom to lay down for a while, being a straight-A student, an athlete and
a musician I would often be rather tired after such a long day.  My mother
would still be at work, but my father would be home, and he would often
say, "What time should I wake you?" This was a standard procedure, as I was
prone to sleeping through alarms.  I didn't realize the potential for such
a regular wake-up call until I had an epiphany one day when I was about 14
or 15. I had taken a nap and woken up with a raging, teenage-boy hardon,
that was incredibly persistent.  I had woken up just before it was time for
Dad to wake me in case I had slept through the alarm.  I was just able to
cover up with a sheet before he appeared in my bedroom doorway. I must have
been flushed because he asked me if I was feeling alright, and he came in
and felt my forehead with the back of his large hand.  My arms, that were
supporting me as I sat semi-upright, shook at his touch, and I thought I
was going to pop and really freak him out.  His check continued, feeling
the back of my neck, and I could barely contain my ragged breathing.

"You're burning up, why do you need a sheet in the summer? You really
shouldn't use it if you're going to overheat," he said as he turned and
retreated back into the hallway.

I flopped back onto my head and felt air rush back into my lungs, but all
the blood was still trapped in my hard cock.  I reached down and pulled the
sheet back, slipping my cock through the fly of my boxers and started
caressing myself, wishing my smooth hand felt more like my father's big,
muscled hand.  As I pictured his hand wrapping around my throbbing six-inch
cock, I gasped and came all over my stomach.  Coming down from my orgasmic
high, I looked toward the hallway, and the light bulb went off in my head.
I could pretend to sleep through my afternoon alarm and Dad would find me
with my throbbing hardon.  My heart fluttered in anticipation of the
potential outcomes...would he be angry? Would he say anything? Would he be
proud of the man I was developing into? Would he come into my room and help
me out?

The next afternoon couldn't come soon enough, and I was barely able to rest
at all, my mind filled with fantasies of my burly, muscled father coming
into my room and him seeing his teenage son's monument to lust standing
proudly over the sleeping landscape of his body.

I figured that I'd make it look like my cock had slipped through my
accidentally un-buttoned fly, and I positioned my head away from the door,
afraid that I might betray my lucid state in some way.  My cock was
achingly hard, and I spread some of the precum that I had leaked over the
head and the top of the shaft, leaving the rest to bead on top, hoping that
it might be the icing on my popsicle that I wished dad would want to suck.

I lay there and waited, and eventually I heard the footsteps of my father
coming down the hallway.  I could sense him in the doorway, just standing
there for a few seconds before he called out to me softly,
"Luke...Luke...It's time to wake up, buddy..."  I acted like I had just
heard him and stretched and made some groggy noises.

"Oh, thanks, Dad. I must've been really tired today," I replied as I rolled
over and tried to cover my hard cock, as if I had just discovered it.

He left without even a comment, and my spirits plummeted, but knowing that
my father had just seen my rigid member gave me new excitement and
different thrills.

I continued the same routine on and off for a while, with the same results,
until it was the end of the school year and the temperatures sky-rocketed.
I had turned 16, my chest hair had started to come in, earlier than all the
other guys, and my stomach had a nice dusting of golden-brown hair that
turned into a thicker trail at my navel and eventually traced into my bush.
Even my young ass was hairy.

When I came in from school and was about to go up and lay down, dad told me
he was going to lay down too, and that I should feel free to strip
completely due to the heat.  My hard cock pressed uncomfortably against my
cargo shorts with every step I climbed up to my bedroom.

I took full advantage of my father's suggestion and threw all my sheets
back, turned the fan on, and made sure to position my body so that he'd
have an eyeful.  I angled my body across the bed, one arm thrown over my
head, exposing my armpit.  I turned my head into my bicep and licked at the
hairs peeking out and sniffed the sweat I had worked up between soccer
showers and my walk home.  I flung one leg over the side of the bed,
exposing my entire ball sac and the curve of my bubble butt that
disappeared into the mattress.  My cock was so hard it wasn't standing at
attention, it was throbbing rigidly against my abs and pointing toward my
face, the precum already pooling in the fur of my treasure trail.

Like clockwork, my father came to wake me up, and I heard him stand at the
doorway, and I knew he was there for longer than usual without saying
anything. My mind was reeling with the possibilities of his thoughts. I
hoped that he was proud of my body, and I even allowed myself to hope that
he was turned on.  I longed for him to come into my room, to feel the
mattress shift as he sat next to me, his heat radiating off his bare thigh
and back.  And, I longed for his big hand to caress my body, starting with
my flexed bicep, tracing down into my armpit, playing with my chest and
nipples, weaving through the hair on my abdomen, before slowly wrapping
around my now-wet shaft and jerking me to a screaming climax.

"Luke!" I was jarred out of my revelry by my name, being called louder than
usual. "Luke, buddy, you slept long," Dad said from the doorway.  I jumped
and sat straight up.

"And buddy, you better take care of that thing before your mom gets home,"
he said softly, and pointed one of his amazing hands in the general
direction of my erection.  He winked at me as he backed out of my room and
closed the door.  I jerked myself in to a frustrated climax and wished that
I had just shot my load all over my chest while he was watching me.

Those memories flooded back as I lay, looking at my toned and furry body,
this afternoon.  I was home for the summer, having turned 21 and finishing
my junior year with a 4.0 at a selective college in the Northeast.  I
positioned myself as I had that other summer day five years ago while I
stared at my hot body.  "Fuck, I'm a stud," I thought...and I still wished
Dad would recognize that.  As I was moving my hand down my abdomen toward
my shaft, ready for a lazy summer wank, my door opened unexpectedly and my
father--still amazingly hot and still the object of many of my
fantasies--appeared in the doorway.

"Dad! I, uh..." I gasped out as I made to cover myself.

Dad just laughed in the doorway, "Don't worry about it buddy.  I used to
find you like this all the time when I'd wake you up afterschool. I didn't
mind then, and I don't mind now."

It took me some courage to move my hand away from my leaking member and
return it to behind my head. I took extra effort to flex my bicep and
whatever muscles I could without making it look like I was trying.  I
looked over and met my dad's eyes, and watched as they trailed down my
college-jock body, resting on my cock for a while before coming back up. I
flexed my 7 inches of manhood and watched his gaze quickly return to my
shaft.

I smiled and whispered huskily, "Oh, I remember..."



Thanks for reading guys. This is my first story on Nifty, and I'd love to
hear your comments and suggestions.  Be gentle. :-)

You can email me at hairynhard25@yahoo.com.  Happy reading!  ~Luke