Date: Mon, 24 Apr 2006 23:43:46 +0000
From: Bill Drake <billdrake@hotmail.com>
Subject: Naval Tradition, pt. 6

Naval Tradition
Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)


Another episode in the story of Jim and his Dad. Let me know what you
think, or any story suggestions at billdrake@hotmail.com. More of my
stories available at the Authors page of Nifty archive, or at a Yahoo
Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/drakestories/

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction
explicitly depicting sexual acts between male relatives. If that offends or
disturbs you, read no further. If not, sit back, unzip, pull it out, and
enjoy.


Naval Tradition



Jim's Story
6

Spring Break 2004


When I woke up, Dad wasn't there. He was religious about his morning
jogs. Normally, I was, too, but this was my vacation, and besides, I felt
too fucked out from the last night almost to walk to the bathroom, much
less go for a run. I smiled inwardly as I reached back and felt the twin
globes of my smooth ass, wondering if it turned men on, if it turned Dad
on.

It was all so weird, I mused, as I did my thing on the crapper, then
stepped into the shower to clean away the heavy residue from last night's
sex. Over the last 24 hours, my father and I had pushed through to another
level of intimacy. Before I'd gone off, it felt surreal and by chance. A
couple furtive attempts at playing with the forbidden. Now we connected
with sustained urgency, like two star-crossed lovers sneaking away to carry
on their torrid affair in dark alleys and Mexican hotel rooms.

I laughed at the idea as my fingers massaged my slightly sore sphincter. It
still felt empty and pleasant all at once, but Dad's large tool had
certainly made itself known. An understatement if there ever was one.

I toweled off and examined myself in the bathroom mirror. Not bad for a
nineteen-year-old I thought, running my hand along the bulged contour of my
torso and up over my shoulder. Some of the guys on the team didn't bother
with aerobic conditioning any more than they had to, certainly not like I
did. Let's face it: baseball can be physically demanding in some respects,
but it's easy enough to play if you have a beer belly or a lot of padding
on your muscle. But I was proud of my fit body, but lean bulk, my flat
stomach. I was convinced that having a sound body helped my game, but I had
to admit the cosmetic effect was a nice bonus. I traced my fingers down the
ripples of my abs and cupped my genitals which swayed soft in the steamy
air. I thought of what other men I'd met had said about my endowment. It
was petty to be proud for something so out of your control, but you can't
help but enjoy the admiration when guys treat your cock like royalty. I had
my father to thank for that. Robert McGrath wasn't as big around as I was
but had me topped by three unbelievable solid inches. Normally I might have
been jealous to be so summarily beat by a bigger specimen, but with Dad it
just made me proud, and grateful that I inherited a fraction of his
manhood.

Dad had just returned when I stepped out. He was just sitting down to the
table on the balcony with the coffee and breakfast he'd fetched for the
both of us.

"Morning, Slugger," he beamed. "Sleep OK?"

"Yeah, when we finally did get to sleep," I teased.

"Feeling all right this morning? We went at it pretty heavy last night." I
could detect the hint of hesitation in his voice.

"Yeah, we did," I grinned reaching for a danish.

"And I'm not a small man." It was funny, there was equal parts cockiness
and fatherly concern in his voice.

"You sure aren't," I retorted, laughing.

"Well, what I'm saying, Jim, is... the last thing I want to do is hurt
you. I'm not saying this feels wrong, what we're doing, but I don't want to
take advantage of my boy."

"Look, Dad, I'll let you know if things go too far. It's not going to
happen, but if it does I'll speak up." The hangdog, expectant look on his
face was heart-melting right then. "Yeah it was tough to take your ten-inch
prong up my tail, and yeah I'm a little sore down there this morning. Who
wouldn't be? But I wanted it as much as you. I shot each time you fucked
me, didn't I?"

Dad's paternal look curled into a subtle sneer. "Damn straight, you did,"
he growled, his cheeky humor returned.

We continued with our breakfast, enjoying the oceanview and discussing what
we wanted to do that day. Beach of course. Maybe catch some of the
nightlife that night.

"Just remember your father's not a college kid. If you want to go off and
have fun with guys... or girls... your own age, don't let me stop you."

"Dad, why would I..."

"I'm serious, Jim. This week's about us, I know, but it's also your Spring
Break. I don't want you to miss out on good partying and fucking just
because your dad has the hots for you."

He gave me one of those winks to assure me he was half-kidding, but only
half.

"Hell, Dad, you just want me to go off so you can make the moves on one of
these frat boys partying around town."

His grin turned up a corner. "Would that bother you, son?"

I was taken aback. It was under the guise of pretense, but I somehow knew
Dad was asking me if it was OK if he fucked around that week. I took a
second to think about. "Nah. Not really." The connection between his powder
blue eyes and mine was intense as anything at that moment. "Seriously, Dad,
I want you to be happy. I want us to connect all week, like we did last
night. Nothing else matters, when you think about it."

"No son, it doesn't," he muttered, his eyes boring into me.

By now I was getting hard talking about sex, thinking about Dad topping
some poor unsuspected frat boy. On top of that, Dad looked magnificent just
fucking sitting there drinking his coffee. The sun streamed in lighting his
body in golden white. The illumination made the gray flecks in his hair
shine, even in the dark pattern of downy bristles that swirled over his
massive chest. The contour of muscle were more clearly visible underneath
and my cock made its full ascent to erection.

"Dad, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Shoot."

"You suck dick?"

He pushed his chair back, spread his legs and placed his beefy hands on top
of his hairy thighs, just below the hemline of his jogging shorts. He gave
a quick beckoning nod. "Slugger, thought you'd never ask. Get that McGrath
cock over here."

My cock twitched. I had a major case of the morning horns and Dad was going
to take care of them. I pushed my full jock bod out of the chair and stood
up erect, my wide cut dick jutting forth. I stepped up to my father and
growled as I felt his fingers circle around the shaft. I'm fatter than he
is by a good couple of inches, so the long fingers of his hand failed to
close around the girth of my cock. It felt hot watching my dad inspect my
meat. Here I'd been servile, sucking him off yesterday the second we were
in the hotel room. Now, Dad was returning the favor, starting with gentle
kisses up the length of my engorged shaft. As his lips nudged up the
underneath of my shaft, I watched as a big bead of clear, viscous juice
gathered at my exposed pissslit. Dad moaned the second his Roman nose
touched the wetness. Bending his head backward he pulled the cockhead to
his mouth and sucked in the fresh sap. Just that one action, so confident,
so natural and yet so nasty, pushed more precum up from my balls. The
pre-ejaculate spurted out this time instead of oozed and Dad groaned from
deep within his chest as he swirled his hand over his broad chest and
leaned into suck more.

"Know what son? You got one helluva dick. I never seen such a fat
piece. Don't know how much your old man can handle."

"'s OK, Dad," I started to answer, but already he loosened his jaw and
wrapped his lips around the wide circumference of my everhard
prick. Instantly, my sensitive prickhead was enveloped by the warm wetness
of Dad's mouth. His tongue lapped at my pissslit and the round flare of my
glans lodged in between his teeth. I guessed he was being rewarded by a
steady flow of my pre-fuck juice, cause he held my legs steady and stayed
immobile on my erect cock, licking away furiously and moaning like a
banshee.

Finally, after he'd had a good taste, he began his descent. Gradual and
steady, taking his time to stretch his oral cavity and gullet with the
girth of my cock. I can't convey to you what an incredible turn on it is to
see your father struggle to suck your meat down his throat. My dick looked
fatter than I'd ever seen it, a real beercan cock. Dad's lips just
stretched and his throat gulped with saliva as he swallowed more,
millimeter by millimeter.

He didn't swallow me whole, but at a good five inches of my fat fucker,
he'd certainly achieved an accomplishment most men hadn't. What made it
hotter was that it was Dad's wet mouth and throat stretched around my
hardon, constricting and twitching against the rounded head of my prick,
the corona catching deep in his gullet.

He took a deep breath through his nose then back off a little. He sucked,
and pushed his head back down. I don't know where Robert McGrath learned to
suck cock, but getting head never felt so good. As best he could, the man
twisted his head down as he thrust down toward my pelvis. He gripped my
swollen balls in his hand, and I reflected on how hot it was watching a man
fingering his own son's testicles, it was as if he was judging the
inheritance he'd left his offspring. Like my cock, my gonads were fatter
than Dad's, I knew, and just by the way he caressed and gripped the
sensitive fat fuckers, I could tell he was proud of what he'd given me.

After closing my eyes and concentrating on the sensations his mouth was
giving me, I looked down and saw the shirtless masculine glory of
Ret. Commander McGrath sucking cock. My, James Andrew McGrath's, cock. I
thought of a hundred things. I thought of Dad dropping to his knees to
inspect his direct reports' equipment. I thought of him spending his early
retirement living with me, blowing me every morning before school and
work. I though of him sucking my brothers off like he was sucking me.

That did it.

My nuts drew up, big balls that were swinging against Dad's chin a second
ago now clung anxiously to my stalk. My cumtube swelled out against Dad's
tongue, making my fat round shaft grow even wider, more irregular in
shape. Then my pissslit opened up deep within Daddy's throat as my cock
belched out several jets of thick, rich cum.

Dad swallowed it all, too. Took it as his duty, as father, as sucker, as my
superior.

He coughed a bit as soon as my firing cock had slowed to a dribble and he
could back off. Spittle and traces of sperm clung to the corners of his
mouth, but he did nothing to wipe them off, he just leaned back in his
chair, a smile on his face and a hardon poking up broadly in his running
shorts. Looking at his broad chest and his handsome face, my dick gave
another spurt of juice that landed on his hairy leg. Dad sucked down the
last bit of spit and cum lingering in his mouth. "Nice load, son," he
intoned in his baritone, giving me the fatherly encouragement I always
craved.

I offered to return the favor, but he told me no, he'd prefer to save it
till later. After a slow kiss, we both showered, separately, then got ready
to hit the beach.

************

I guess we were quite a pair, half naked on the beach, Dad's burly hairy
body next to my toned varsity athletic frame. I wore a pair of board shorts
that slung low on my hips, revealing my tight eight-pack abs. Looking
around, I could tell I held my own with the competition. It's not that the
frat boys packing the beach weren't hot, but their bulk was softer, their
bellies starting to show the hint of padding from too much partying. Still,
I could tell Dad's appreciative gaze size up the meat, male and female,
parading the beach. Normally, the sole older man on the Cancun beach at
Spring Break would seem lecherous, but my father looked incredible spread
out on his towel, this firm midsection packed tight into dark blue spandex
swim trunks emblazoned with NAVY. Genitals the size of a grapefruit mounded
up and stretched the fabric of his crotch. Unlike the preening frat studs
strutting about, Dad was confident and relaxed in his utter masculinity.

We sat there on our towels, occasionally heading down to the water for a
dip to cool off. Both literally and figuratively. Our conversation was
getting both of us heated up, talking about which studs we'd like to pick
up, which ones would be the best lays.

"What about that one, Slugger?" he'd ask, his eyes already stripping one
blonde, buff frat boy of his surfer trunks.

"Looks like my fuckbud from SAE. Eric. Varsity swim team. Nice, tight
fuck."

"Yeah?" he looked back at me with a twinkle in his eye.

"Yeah, Dad. He used to invite all us baseball guys to the house's parties
just for the chance to get laid."

And so it went. Another guy would walk past and I'd make some admiring
comment, or Dad would tell me how he'd love to feel the guy's hot mouth on
his cock. Strange conversation to have with your father, I thought, but
after the 24 hours we'd just had, it seemed to flow, a connection of sexual
bonding between us that we both knew would continue to deepen over the
week. From now on, even.

After the beach, we came back, both exhausted. I collapsed face down on the
bed, still in my swimsuit, and felt Dad plop down next to me. I'd assumed
he wanted to doze off into a nap as well, until I felt the wide span of his
fingers cupping and running along the nylon-covered mound of my bubblebutt.

"Still sore down here, Slugger?" he asked, his low whisper barely
audible. I think he was trying to decide if I was napping yet.

"Yeah. Just a little" I responded. His hand felt great. Reassuring somehow.

"Too sore to let your old man have a quick one?"

I shook my head lazily. "Have at it, Dad."

Without wasting a second his fingers lifted the swimsuit material up off my
behind and peeled it down, exposing my bare rump to his gaze. His hiss in
response was the closest thing either of us came to speaking the next five
minutes. He took a brief minute to massage my brawny cheeks, then knelt up
on the mattress.

I looked back and saw him shuck down his Navy-issue trunks. That big, long
banana flopped right out, mostly hard already. The head was wet and
moisture gathered in the folds of his foreskin. I imagine he'd been getting
turned on the whole time on the beach and was ready for release. After all,
he'd not gotten off on the porch this morning.

Silently, deftly, he reached over and grabbed the bottle of lubricant. His
monster looked even more imposing slicked up, especially as it was now
pretty much fully erect, with big nasty veins bulging along the length and
his flared cockhead stretching out the foreskin rim wider, revealing as if
in bloom the angry pissslit beneath.

He reached over out of my field of vision and then I felt the cool plastic
of the lube bottle pressed against my anus. He gave a generous squirt and I
shuddered as the cold gel filled the folds of my sensitive sphincter. He
dropped the bottle to the side and climbed on.

Content with my fate, I hung my head down into the pillow and spread my
legs as wide as I could with the trunks still around my thighs. It occurred
to me that maybe Dad wanted me restrained like this, submissive, my cheeks
rubbing tight against his cock. The thought sent the blood to my prick
faster than anything.

He mounted. I felt his weight above me as he very slowly lodged his cock
into me hole. It cleared the breach and I know I gave a whimper. That dick!
Hard, wet and as big around as a cattle prod. My ring spasmed around
it. Man, he was big, but this time around, my hole was more elastic and my
rectum yielded to the pressure of his insistent cock. His thick, meaty slab
bored into me, claiming my ass for the third time in twenty-four hours. I
grunted, but steeled my self, clutching at the bedsheets. I don't know that
I was ready for that after-beach fuck, but I was willing to give Dad just
about anything he wanted, anything he asked.

Soon my father's hard, heavy prick was lodged in my butt to the base. He
held still, but only for a second. I could feel his breath on the back of
my neck, and it made goosebumps sprout up all over my exposed skin. "This
one's for your Daddy," he said softly and matter of factly in his deep
rumble of a voice. Then he started fucking, thrusting in regular, smooth
strokes.  He lifted his upper body off my back and really pounded me. God,
he was fucking every ounce of air out of my lungs with deep, brutal
thrusts. And it felt terrific. Even the discomfort took on an edge of
intensity as Dad's hips pivoted his cock over and over into me. Loud,
squishy sounds filled the room, a telltale product of our mating, his large
genitals overstuffing my tight jock rectum.

He didn't call my name out as he came. Instead, a deep rumble shook us both
and that perfect dick, the one which had created me so long ago, grew slick
with the family seed. Dad's beefy body trembled in orgasmic bliss, then
locked still with his pole burrowed deep into my guts, pumping me full of
his marvelous essence.

I was too overwhelmed with my anal orgasm to realize that my own seed had
soaked the bedsheets below. Dad dismounted, our mutual sweat a soft sheen
on his hairy torso. His cock still throbbed and oozed and I stared openly
and lustfully at it, yet barely able to even lift my arm to touch the manly
totem. Exhausted, we collapsed into deep sleep.


************



It was a couple hours later when we woke up, the late afternoon sun telling
us that evening was almost upon us. I woke up and felt Dad's burly hand
caressing my smooth torso. He was beating off furiously while his eyes
traveled up and down my exposed jock body and his fingers played with my
erect nipples or the ridges of ab muscle beneath.

"Yeah," he muttered, "my boy's awake."

I groaned, trying to clear my throat and casually wiped the sleep from my
eyes. I still hadn't adjusted to the sunlight streaming in through the
window, but I batted my eyelids to try to make out a clearer vision of my
father's beautiful, rugged body. In the afternoon light, the man's body
hair seemed lighter, downier, and I could see the definition of pale muscle
underneath. His thighs were knotted up into cords of powerful mass, as he
tensed his body rhythmically with each handstroke. My eyes followed up his
giant thighs and locked sight on Dad's massive genitalia. How could I not
love fat juicy nuts and that ten inch manspike prodding out proudly from
the dark forest of hair that collected at his crotch?

Daddy's thighs spread as he turned and straddled my waist. His cock seemed
longer and more powerful from the new angle. I feasted on that fucker -
big, long, commanding. I wrapped my lips around the tip and sucked, licking
the hooded knob.

"That's it, Slugger, suck your man's meat. There, nice and slow. Open up
for your Daddy, Jim. Yeah... sweet..."

For the next fifteen minutes, I made love to my father's
megacock. Worshipped it is more accurate. Deep strokes, shallow ones,
sucking, swallowing, whatever it took to take him in, slowly, inch by
inch. I still, even now, couldn't believe how endowed my father is. I'd
begun to approach his bushy pubes with my eager mouth when Dad extracted
his engorged meat from my liplock. His prick now inches away from my face,
I looked as his foreskin stretched tight over the rim of his flared head
and as a fat bead clear juice formed and dripped down to my chest, its path
forming a sticky gossamer thread that dangled off the tip of his cock. I
gasped a deep, gutteral gasp.

"Come on, Slugger, let's shower up. I want to take our time tonight."

Stunned and horny, I muttered a mild "yes, sir" and gulped as he lifted his
powerful frame off mine and pulled me off the bed. We planted our lips on
one another and I could feel the heat of his freshly tanned skin against my
own bare body. I didn't know if I was going to last through a shower
without shooting the sperm swimming around in my balls.

I managed somehow. We showered together, and it felt sexual yet something
else, too. Paternal, loving, like the times he'd wash me when I was little
or let me watch as he shaved.

Finally Dad turned off the water and I started to pull back the curtain and
step out, when he stopped me. "Hold it there, Slugger." My cock had been
semi-soft all this while, but hearing him call me that and the tone he used
sent it traveling upward again. I looked into his face and saw only
inscrutable determination. He squeezed my shoulder then turned
around. Matter of factly, he filled the sink basin and unzipped his
toiletries bag. Out appeared his razor and a can of shaving gel. He turned
back around with them in his hands and a look of penetrating cold lust in
his eyes. Like he was my father, the man I always knew, but also some one
else. A fuckgreedy stranger with a towering erection throbbing below. A
Navy commander about to screw his latest recruit. I shivered as the first
touch of the cool gel met my chest. Slowly, insistently, Dad's mouth
approached mine and we drew toward one another like magnets. My head was
getting a little dizzy, which just made his kiss that much hotter. Smooth,
sensual, teasing me with his masculine tongue, an experienced mandrill that
knew how to pleasure his partner. Equally slowly, his hands began to trace
circular motions over my hair-dusted chest, spreading the lubricating gel
out over the expanse of my upper torso.

"Told you I was gonna take care of my boy," he said in a deep whisper as he
backed away, taking the razor in hand and gliding it down the contour of my
pectoral mass. It took away the frothy green foam and with it what existed
of my man fur. I was kinda proud of my chest hair - hell I'd waited eagerly
for it to start coming in. I'd always admired the full crop of wiry hair on
Dad's front. And now he was shaving off mine, without asking. I wanted to
object, but the electricity of silence hung too heavily between us. And my
cock was crowbar rigid. It was like the time Dad had taught me to shave,
only far more intense. He was making a man out of me now too, only in a
different way. Slowly, surely.

I looked down at his hand, patient, smooth in its motions. Seeing the
blades near my nipple I cringed in dread, but stayed perfectly still,
letting my father's nimble fingers hold my rubbery areole steady while he
gingerly flicked away the hairs. If my delapidation hadn't sexually enraged
me by that point, that sensation surely did. I gripped Dad's waist and
breathed deep. He rewarded me with a soulful kiss and got back to his task.

Next was my stomach, where a treasure trail had been widening out into a
nice fan of dark blonde fuzz. No more. As he swiped away, the definition of
my abs seemed to pop out more, a fact not last on Dad's appreciative
gaze. He rubbed and kneaded the rippled stomach muscle a good ten minutes
before grabbing the can and squirting out more gel.

"Lift your arm, Slugger."

That familiar tone of voice that I remember from my childhood: firm,
gentle, commanding. Accommodating his desire, I lifted my right arm. The
strong fingers of his left hand circled my wrist and pinned it up against
the tile. He was at the perfect height to inspect and admire the work I'd
been putting into my bis and tris this last season.

"Great guns ya got, son," he muttered, bringing his full, masculine lips
right to the smooth skin of my upper arm. And he licked. Full, wide swipes,
his thick tongue coating my pale muscle. I flexed and balled up the muscle
for his appreciation.

"Hold it there," he said, gripping my upper arm and pinning it backward.

With his right hand, he applied the smooth gel to the underside of my arm,
scraping the slickness down into my exposed armpit.

"Dad!" I pleaded.

"Shhh..." he responded, then lifted the razor to the place where my bicep
muscle joined my delt. Then he scraped down, denuding the sensitive
area. His stern, determined look broke into a temporary smile as he admired
the fresh smoothness of my skin. "Hot, son, so fucking hot." He tended to
the soft hairs along my meaty arm, then lifted my left one up and repeated
the process. I was full-on boned by now and noticed Dad's big cock was
fully engorged, the heavy nutsac drawn up high and tight against his long
stalk. I wanted to grab it, to rough-handle that giant prick til it spurted
juice all over both of us. I wanted to attack my Dad in the worst way. But
I dared not break the intense spell that was cast over both of us at that
moment.

Our lips crashed together once more, then just as quickly my father pulled
away and grabbed my shoulders to spin me around to face the cold tile. My
back is completely hairless, but my asscheeks are dusted with a fine
coating of blonde fuzz. Dutifully, Dad sprayed out more gel and massaged it
over the round melons of my butt. Insistently, his fingers prodded down
into my crevice, lotioning up my crack, until his thumb teasing my hole
breached the ring ever so slightly. My moan got caught in my throat.

"Why shouldn't I just fuck you right here and now, boy? Damn, Slugger,
you're turning your old man on, you know."

I mumbled an incomprehensible assent and was prepared to feel his heavy
stalk line up with my eager-to-be-bred sphincter. Instead, Dad began
shaving my buttcheeks, pausing when he got to my crevice, at which point he
got down on his knees and pulled apart my cheeks, giving him full access
with his careful razor. I'd known for a couple of years the pleasure of
that area, but fuck, it wasn't until the exotic tickle of having my hairs
shaved off that I realized how fucking great it could feel.

I felt a splash of cold water on my rosebud, followed by the heat of Dad's
breath and the wet insistence of his tongue as it darted forth and made
contact.

"Shit, Dad!" I hissed, now unable to stay silent. Dad poked and prodded my
hole as his face buried deep in between my round asscheeks. God, he could
rim, nice strokes of his powerful tongue, first deep, then wide, then
corkscrewing their way into my inner depths, drilling me, teasing me,
making me squirm. It was only more intense feeling him lick at bare skin
puckered up around my rosebud.

I looked over my shoulder and was rewarded with the sight of my father on
his haunches, making love to my butt. His handsome face was half obscured
by my now baby-smooth ass muscle, but his forehead and the top of his nose
reminded me of his square-cut good looks.

"Come on, Slugger," he cooed gently as he pulled away finally. Spit and
remnants of shaving gel covered his chin and mouth. "Let's go back to the
bedroom. I wanna make love to this jock butt right."

We disconnected just long enough to rinse off then pad our feet into the
other room. Roughly, Dad kissed me, our tongues fighting in lust. Then, he
turned me around and pushed me face down on the bed. I turned up my head
and saw both of us in the mirror at the head of the bed. Once again, Dad
hunkered down and burrowed his way into my shaved and primed jock
butt. Once again, I moaned and tossed my head back in the sensations from
his deep-tissue butt massage. Maybe only Dad could say for sure how much my
asshole was fluttering open, but it sure felt like I was opening up
anything Dad was going to give me, that's how intense his rim job was.

He went at it for must have been twenty or thirty minutes. He was a maestro
working me up into a crescendo then back down, before attacking me full on
again. I was long muttering "fuck me!" before he knelt up and positioned
his prick at the entrance to my backside. Snug and slick from the royal
spit job Dad had given me, the monster cock just popped in. I groaned and
Dad called out a dozen expletives. Holding his hands firmly on the small of
my back, he pushed his dick inward, stuffing my chute once again full of
his cock. Only this time I was ready, my ass just dilated around his
invader and he sank in.

"I'm in you son," he breathed. I shuddered as my ass twitched around his
firm cock and I felt his harsh grip on my hips. He swiveled back and I
heard him hock spittle onto his shaft, then he pushed back in.

"Ungh..." I groaned. "Damn, you're fucking me good, dad. Hard, deep fuck
strokes." Unconsciously, I spread my legs, inviting Dad deeper in. And
deeper he thrust, pounding the wind out of me.

"You're one tight fuck, Jimbo. Nice. It's so wrong for a man to enjoy his
boy like this. Bending his own son over when ever he gets the horns,
burying my big bone up your jock butt. Aw yeah, hike that ass back,
son. Fuck! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" He really began pounding me, working me over
from the inside out. And I was bucking back against his thrusting pelvis
for all I was worth. Each inward spike urged me to grind my cheeks harder
against his pubes. We were in smooth synchronicity, a true father-son
fucking machine.

Then, suddenly, Dad reaches under my chest and pulls me up. We're both
facing the wall-mounted mirror, my smooth jock body contrasting with his
dark, hairy build. I don't know that I've ever felt so possessed before
that moment. I looked down our bodies' reflection, til my eyes latched onto
his thrusting cock, slick with his own spit. His fat furry balls pounded my
backside, swinging like heavy pendulums beneath my smooth, shaven balls. I
thought of their purpose, to produce more seed to inject into me, into his
own flesh and blood. Dad was in a full-fuck rage and I was, too. Hungrily,
his wide hands explored my smooth torso, and his hips bucked harder and
harder.

"Fuck, Dad! Fill me with your seed."

"Ah, Slugger, gonna fuck you full..." I looked down between our spread legs
and could picture his fat father testicles twitching and pumping fresh
naval officer cum into my insides. Then I felt it, the heavy, thick
fullness of his load churning into my insides, and my cock jerked and
bellowed forth an intense spray of jock jism all over the mirror and the
back of the bed. My abs flexed, my body convulsed and I underwent the
deepest, most intense orgasm of my young life.