Date: Sun, 15 Jan 2017 18:56:08 -0800
From: Daddyrob2@hushmail.com
Subject: On Rainy Afternoons

This is a story of father/son incest. If this fantasy is unappealing for
you then please search through Niftys remarkable library. There is a tale
for every taste.

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Daddyrob2@hushmail.com

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allow some time for a response from all others. This tale is for TLB -
thanks, you were right.


On Rainy Afternoons

Scott rose from the bed noting by the bedside alarm clock that it was early
afternoon. Naked the boy entered the bathroom. After his ablutions he
started the shower before extracting a new package of soap. Discarding the
slight cardboard box he lifted the bar to his nose inhaling the fresh
scent. It made the young face break into a grin. He lightly stepped under
the spray of warm water. The soap was lathered up in his small hands. It
was the scent that made memories come to mind, even in one so inexperienced
of life - at least in some ways. The memories allowed him to close his eyes
as he began to soap his hair. He remembered it all...

Oliver pulled a few fat candles from the cupboard in the hall. The
well-toned blonde hunk placed them about the living-dining room of the
two-bedroom apartment. As he heard the match strike he knew his son was
lighting them. Within a few minutes the room was bathed in the warm
glow. The six footer looked about the room. "Well, Scott, it looks like a
funeral home."
     The kids laughter was startled silent as a loud crack of lightening
brought unexpected flashes of light. The brown haired lithe boy stared as
he took a few steps back from the window. The large firm paws taking his
shoulders made him shudder.
     "Relax, son", Oliver whispered softly into the soft ear. "It's just a
summer storm. They're loud but we're safe inside."
     "What if lightening comes through the window?" he asked nervously.
     "Little chance of that ever happening." The muscular arms wrapped
themselves about the slight shoulders. "You're safe." But the boy
trembled. "I want you to see the rain. There's nothing much to it. The
worst will pass soon. Count from the flashes to the roll of thunder. As the
distance between the two gets farther and farther apart so the storm gets
farther from us. Let's wait for the next flash and then you count slowly
out loud."
     The game was on. Scott nervously complained that the storm was getting
closer but within twenty minutes it had began to move away. He relaxed. The
big arms felt safe as did the scent of his dad's usual body soap. The wide
green eyes once more returned to normal. A quick kiss on the cheek
signalled it was over. Sadly he felt the arms release his shoulders.
     "Not much we can do if the power's out. Can't cook, can't watch
TV. He'll, we can't even play the radio." Oliver took a look in the dark
fridge with the aid of a lit candle. "Want a pickle?" he asked
sarcastically.
     "Daddy, there's chips in the cupboard by the sink." Scott took a seat
at the table.
     "Chips it is." Oliver ripped open the bag, munched a few as he sat
opposite his son tossing over the bag. The boy was opening a small
box. "What's that?"
     "Cards."
     "Cards," he said brightly. "Great idea! What'll we play: hearts, crazy
eights, old maid?"
     "Five-card poker, threes are wild, jacks to open." The small hands
shuffled with surprising dexterity.
     "Where the hell did you learn that?" His voice was highly amused.
     "Derek", he referenced his stepfather.
     "Ah, yes. My replacement."
     "Dad", he warned but they both grinned.
     The new game was on. Using potato chips as poker chips the hands were
dealt. Both players munched through their stakes until there were no more
chips, potato or poker.
      "Now what'll we use?" Oliver asked as he shuffled. He and his son
both looked about trying to find a bunch of anything to use.
     "What about pickles?"
     "Pickles?!" Oliver's grimace made the kid laugh. "No we need something
good. Something easy."
     Scott grinned slyly. "Clothes."
     Olived gave his son 'the look'.
     "Why not? Haven't you ever played strip-poker?"
     "Yes, when I was your age. I suppose Ben taught you that."
     Scott laughed. "Nah. We played it at camp."
     "Some camp." The hunk looked about. "There's got to be something..."
     "There is. Clothes. Come on. It'll be fun", Scott implored.
     Oliver shuffled the cards as he pondered the surprisingly intriguing
idea. Strip-poker with his son would certainly be a unique way to spend a
stormy night. It would be interesting to see how his son reacted to seeing
him bare-assed for the first time. Holding the pack in his hand he waved a
warning finger at the kid. "No one ever finds out. Swear it."
     Scott crossed his heart. Grinning he began to gather each dealt
card. Maybe he'd finally see what made daddy's speedos bulge so. His heart
pounded as he assessed the hand. These stakes were high. Scott had never
wanted to win a game so much in his life.
     No open. Cards were redealt.
     "I open. A sock if I lose."
     "Sock", Oliver concurred.
     The hand was played. Scott took off his sock before dealing.
      "I open", Oliver said. "Sock."
      "Sock."
      The hand was played. The other sock was removed. Oliver dealt.
      "Shirt."
      "Sock," Oliver grinned knowing he had both on.
      The hand was played. Scott dealt without his shirt on.
      "Shorts."
      "Sock", Oliver laughed.
      The hand was played. Scott watched his father deal.
      "Underwear."
      "Sock", Oliver laughed loudly.
      The hand was dealt.
      "Underwear."
      "Other sock."
      The hand was dealt.
      "Underwear."
      "Shirt."
      The hand was dealt.
       "Underwear."
       "Pants."
       The hand was dealt.
       "Underwear."
       "Underwear."
        The hand was dealt. The dealer opened. Each discarded: Oliver,
three; Scott, two. They both studied their cards glancing with calculation
at the other.
        Scott placed each card down. "Queen of hearts, Queen of spades,
nine of hearts, eight of clubs". He hesitated to make his coup de Grace,
"Queen of clubs!" He leaned forward beaming broadly. "Beat that!"
       "Okay, watch your father show you how it's done." His son
frowned. "Six of hearts, six of diamonds, King of spades, King of
diamonds." Oliver waved the back of the final card in front of his sons
face. "You ready to lose?"
      "Dad! Show me!"
      "Ready to get naked? Ready to show your dick, loser?"
       Scott grabbed for the card which was wipped away.
       "Ready?"
       "Yes, yes, show me!!"
       With deliberate patience Oliver revealed the final card: three of
hearts.
        Scott thrust his arms upward as he shouted a triumphant "YES!!"
        Oliver laughed at his sons glee. Slowly the man stood. With a slow
pace he walked over to his sons side of the table. With thumbs hooked in
his briefs he wiggled his fingers. "Who won?"
       "ME!!"
       "Who lost?"
       "DADDY!!"
       "Guess I have to pay up." Smirking in mock humiliation he lowered
the briefs to mid-thigh.
       Scott gaped. The thick bush was light brown but darker than most
hair that covered the muscled man. The cock however was bigger than Scott
had ever imagined. Thick jutting down from the pubes, the darkish meat hung
fat and low. The foreskin hugged half the head. What was revealed by the
lazy foreskin was a dark pinkish plump knob, silky with a pouting
piss-slit. The cock hung lower than the big hairy balls that peaked behind
the flaccid meat. Wide eyes took it all in, looked up at his amused dad in
wonder, then back to the daddy cock in amazement. The kid was
speechless. Literally. He could not find his voice as he continued to
unabashedly stare.
     Oliver quickly spun 180 degrees wiggling his furry ass. That broke the
tension. Hearing Scott giggle he pulled off the shorts then took his seat.
"So now what? Another hand?" Oliver shuffled the cards.
     Scott couldn't get the image of the cock and balls or en the full
furry ass out if his mind. His face was grinning but his mind was south. Of
his dad. His dad. Wow, what a real man!
     "Of course, first you've gotta get your pecker down."
     Scott looked from the grinning visage to his own crotch. Sure enough,
his briefs were tented. He looked at his dad horrified and embarrassed.
     "Don't sweat it. You lose", he began to deal, "and you have to show
off your hard prick."
     Scott began to gather his cards mortified by his bodies
betrayal. Silently, save for asking for cards, he sat quite quiet. He lost
the hand. Sitting in the chair he shimmied out of his briefs. Then daring
to look in his father's eyes he was beckoned to comply. Reluctantly the
nude boy stood on the chair. Lucky for his own peace of mind his
embarrassment not only eliminated the stiffy but had cozied the entirety of
his sex close up to his body. Realizing this made him grin broadly. Now he
didn't care if his dad saw. As his humor returned he even swiveled his hips
in childish glee.
     Oliver applauded the amateur dancer. "Shake that booty!", Oliver
cheered. The little knob shook to and fro. The great man then took to his
chair. Standing he took hold of his pendulous meat and waved about the knob
as he whooped his other arm in the air. "Ring my Bell, ring my Bell", he
sang loudly. Turning about he shook his butt then turned all the way about
to wave his arms as his dick swung fast from side to side.
     They stopped at the same time. Oliver laughed as Scott stood silent,
his hands cupping his crotch.
     "What's going on?" Oliver evaluated the tricken look on his sons
face. "What?" But the kid stood stalk still, frightened as he held his arms
to his side and clutched his crotch tighter. Oliver stepped down moving to
his sons chair. Strong hands lifted the clamped boy into his arms. Relief
flooded him as he felt the arms enfold his neck as the forehead pressed
into his cheek. Slowly he carried his son to where he sat on the sofa. The
boy sat sideways on his lap as his large hand felt the boys cheek and
ear. "Tell daddy what's going on. Come on." Oliver kissed his son tenderly
on the lips. "What happened? Did you get another hard-on?" The forehead
rubbed up and down against his cheek. Oliver gave a friendly
chuckle. "Well, that can happen. Especially at your age. Just means you're
growing up. You'll learn to control them. All us guys do." Bringing his
sons face forward he held both cheeks. "If it happens it happens but I
don't want you to ever be embarrassed in front of me. Not ever. Okay?"
     Scott offered a meek smile.
     "Well, I'm not so sure. You never need to be afraid in front of me. We
are family. Hell, how many boys do you think I let see my dinky?" Oliver
asked using the childish word of Scott's babyhood.
     Scott gave a weak giggle. The arms wrapped about him gave comfort.
     "In a couple of years you're gonna be a teenager then watch out. The
hormones will be raging and your body will start to grow hair and stuff."
      "You mean hair like yours?"
      "Yeah, I would think so. After all you're my son. Runs in the
genes. You'll start to shave, wear deodorant and shower a couple of times a
day, especially if you continue with your sports. So don't worry about the
dinky. It'll learn what you need to teach it."
     They sat quiet enveloped by their warmth and the glow of
candlelight. The rain still poured but the noise of the storm had passed.
     Scott stirred his head slightly. "Does it ever happen to you?", he
asked softly.
     "Sometimes. Not often. At least when I'm not expecting it. When it
does I just think of baseball."
     Scott looked at the handsome face. "Baseball?"
     Oliver grinned. "Think about it. Three men on base, two outs, and
Willie Mays gets up to bat. Now try keeping a hard-on." Both of them
laughed lightly. He took his thumb and forefinger giving his sons knob a
gentle pinch. "This little guy will learn to obey you." The little prick
sprang up with speed. The thumb and forefinger so very gently slid up and
down the sides of the stiffy. "Always remember that I'm here for you and
that I love you." Oliver buried his face into his sons neck. He gently
fondled the hardness. The smell of boy was intoxicating. The feel of boy
cock was even better.
     Scott pressed his own face into his father's strong neck. Daddy's
fingers felt so good on his dinky. And when daddy suckled his neck as the
tongue licked he felt something new stir inside his cock. Those strong arms
held him so securely. When the sucking lips stopped and daddy raised his
head Scott moved his own to gaze into the warm eyes. For moments they just
looked at each other. Then with an almost imperceptible nod his father's
head moved forward as Scott closed his eyes. He knew. Somehow he had always
known.
     Oliver pressed his lips to his sons. For moments it was enough to feel
the young lips slide about his own. A boys first grown-up kiss. And with
his father. Oliver had to concede he'd never seriously thought about his
own son in this way. But now... Well... It felt so right, so natural. His
lips on his sons. His boy in his arms. Yes, this was right. So very
natural.
     Scott felt a feathery swipe of his lips. Daddy's tongue. Tongue! What
was he supposed to do now? The tongue snaked the center of his lips. They
parted slightly and the tongue dipped in. His own met the visitor. They
rubbed against each other in tentative battle. Then the beast slid in. It
lolled about his own. Tongue over tongue as both mouths widened open. Then
he tasted the spit, the full heady taste of his daddy's saliva. His arms
held the neck tight as he pressed hard against his daddy's wonderful deep
kiss.
     Oliver lifted both of them up. Carefully he brought them into the
bedroom. He knew it was too late to stop, too late to go back and pretend
it had never happened. The boy was in his arms. No matter what tomorrow
brought he was going to make love to his son.
     Scott felt the sheets slide along his back. It was the first time he'd
opened his eyes since they first kissed. Daddy raised his head. As he
looked at the handsome man his hands stroked the stubble of those
cheeks. Then daddy took his hands and began to kiss them. First the backs,
then the palms. They looked into each other's eyes and both guys saw
something that had never been there before. A new kind of love. A love that
was theirs alone. Incest. Father. Son. Love.
     Oliver had to know. His hunger was unendurable. Looking down as he
zeroed in he took in the view of small white cock with pink knob and balls
that lay askew in their loose bag. Then he went in.
     Scott yelped in surprise. The mouth sucked in his cock. Daddy lowered
his body as he sucked. This must be a blowjob, Scott thought. His entire
body lit up with wave after wave of new sensations. It was fantastic! And
it was his daddy!
     Oliver sucked the little prick like a man needing this to live. It was
his lifeline. He sucked hard and fast. The lovely knob bouncing about his
mouth as he suckled. The tongue battling knob and shaft as he sucked
hard. It had been so long. And now his son. His son. It spurted him on in a
sucking frenzy.
     Scott whimpered. "Daddy", he whispered. It felt so good. So
intense. Then the good got better. Best. Maybe too good. It began to
ache. The ache grew. Was something wrong? His head thrashed. "Daddy?", he
asked a little louder. It felt so odd. Too much. Too much sucking. Too much
feeling. His dinky ached. His knob felt like it would pop off. "Daddy?
Please." His hips moved as if to get away. The ache. His knob. His knob was
getting sucked off of his body. Too much. "Daddy. Daddy! DADDY!" He yelled
loudly. "HELP!"
     Oliver sucked as hard as he could. The kid was on fire. The cock
twitched. The balls pressed his lower lip. Then the unexpected
happened. Oliver's mouth filled with warm slime. As the lad thrashed about
his cock gave up his first cum. Oliver swirled the boy juice about his
mouth as he sucked up all that was offered. His sons first cum. And he got
to have it, to taste it, to savour, to swallow. He let the cock go. In his
mouth he held the first seed. His tongue weighed the sperm. The slime slid
about his mouth before he lovingly swallow luxuriating in the knowledge
that he had made his boy a man.
     Scott felt his prick. Wet though it was everything was still
there. Relieved he lay back marvelling at his new power. He watched his
father crawl up over him. He smiled as his dad grinned.
     "How do you feel?"
     Scott stretched then laughed.
     "Must have been pretty intense." The boy nodded. Oliver grinned. "You
came."
     "I did?" The lad was puzzled. "But I thought you had to be a
teenager."
     "So did I. But you definitely came. And it tastes great." Oliver
beamed.
     Scott grinned broadly. Taking his dad's offered hands he was pulled up
to his knees. That's when he saw his father's magnificence, upright, proud,
and strong. "Geeze, dad!", he whistled. "You're massive!"
     Oliver placed the small hands on his cock. "It's all yours. Want to
play?"
     "Oh, yes, I do."
     The lads hands felt wonderful as they roamed about his prick. First up
one side then down the other. The knob was squeezed and pulled then the
belly of the shaft was stroked. Oliver's body was in heaven. "Don't forget
about my fat nuts." Fingers trailed over the hairy sack. The balls were
weighed as they were fondled. The hands had the special knack. Very
special. "That feels great, son. Really good."
     "It's so fat. Look. I can't even get a hand around the middle! Are all
men this big?"
     "No. Most are in the five to seven inch area. You're holding onto nine
solid inches of daddy cock." The boys regard made his pride swell. He had
almost forgotten how easily a boy could be impressed.
     The hands stroked the warm pole. "Wow. Nine. Will I get to be this big
someday?"
     "Perhaps. We'll see."
     "Oh, I hope I do." The fingers eased about the knob. He fingered the
piss slit dabbing at the precum. Then he smeared it about the plum. "It's
so shiny", he said to himself.
     "I'll also show you something kind of cool. If you grab my cock in the
middle and pull towards you you'll be able to hide my knob with the
foreskin."
     Scott did so. Delighted he made the knob disappear then
reappear. "Dad, this is fun", he enthused. The skin rolled up then down
then up then down. On and on he went. "Look. It's making the tip even
shinier."
     Oliver sighed. The hands felt so good. Nothing looked more beautiful
than boys hands on his mammoth meat. Well, maybe the second thing most
beautiful. It was then he noticed the hands had stopped as his son stared
at the glistening knob. "What's going on?"
     "Well, daddy, when you... You know... Sucked me. Isn't that kind
of... You know... Dirty?"
     "There is nothing dirty about the human body. As long as you're clean
any part can be touched, stroked, kissed and licked. Cock, balls, ass,
feet, toes, nipples, armpits. Nothing is off limits."
     Scott cocked his head to one side. "Ass? You mean bum?"
     "Exactly." He grinned at the doubt in his sons face. "Look. I'll prove
it." Oliver got up into the middle of the bed. On his back he cushioned his
shoulders and head with two pillows. Then much to his sons surprise he
lifted his legs until the knees almost touched the outside of his
shoulders. Then he took his hairy cheeks with his fingers pulling them
apart, revealing the hairy valley of his ass crack. "Come closer so you can
see."
    Scott crawled over on hands and knees and still in this doggy position
he looked down. There was his daddys hair strewn crevice. And there was the
hole. Oh, gosh, he could see his daddy's asshole!
     Both of his index fingers felt the hole. "See? There's nothing dirty
here. It's just an asshole. That's all. It can bring lots of pleasure to
me. And to you." He eased the dark pink flesh wider then closed then
wider. "Feel the skin. Go ahead. There's no teeth here. Come on."
     Tentatively a finger touched the flesh. It was moist with a musky
scent. "Why does it feel wet?" The fingers began to feel all the spread
warm opening.
     "It's an entrance to the body. Inside the body is wet. Kind of like
your mouth. The inside is wet and warm." His butt lifted a little
higher. "Why don't you rub your dick on it? I promise it'll feel really
good."
     Scott got to his knees as he inched forward. His body felt the waves
of heat emanating from the spread ass. He put his knob on the hole. The
sudden sensation made his prick instantly harden. He liked this alot. Scott
rubbed his knob about the hole. Soon his pink knob was shining.
     Oliver loved the feeling. One hand reached for his sons hips. "Aim
your cock at the center of my hole. Okay?" With confirmation he pulled the
boy to him, inside him.
     Scott felt his prick slice through firm warm butter. His toes
curled. His temples throbbed. This was as good as the sucking. Firm paws
held his hips. Then daddy began to rock slightly causing his little prick
to go deeper then shallow then deeper. This felt amazing.
     Oliver groaned. He was getting fucked by his son. His own son. "That's
it, son. You're fucking your daddy. Just like a man." Oliver sighed. "Grab
my cock, Scott. Lick my cockhead. Lick it. I want us to come together."
     Scott obeyed. He gave feathery swipes of the underside of the knob,
right at the vee. He could taste the precum. And he liked it. His hands
pushed the foreskin up and down as he licked. His own prick seemed to be
swelling with the heat.
     "Fuck, this feels so unbelievable. You're fucking me while you're
licking my cock. No man ever had it so good. And you're jerking me off. Oh,
oh. Fuck. I'm so fucking close. Fuck me, baby. Fuck your daddy. Fuck me!"!"
     The paws forced the fucking as he licked the knob. Little hands
masturbated the huge pole. Then his own body kicked into overdrive. "Oh,
daddy? Daddy?"
     "Let it happen, baby. Fill daddy with your sweet seed. Oh, fuck. I'm
there. Cum, son. Fuck me!"
     As the first spurt of boy lava hit his intestines, Oliver let forth
with an eruption to rival Vesuvius. Scott watch the streams of cum rainbow
the air until it landed on daddy's chest, then his chin, then his
belly. Father and son had cum in unity. United by cock. One entity.

...Scott stood dried from his shower in the bathroom doorway. His father
was sitting up in bed giving him a wink and nod. Scott grinned. He thought
to himself that a nice daddy fuck was in order. He knew the beefy cockslut
would agree. Then maybe a leisurely sixty-nine. Scott loved Saturdays in
bed with daddy.