Date: Fri, 29 Jan 2010 23:40:53 -0800 (PST)
From: Louis Ryan <louis_ryan83@yahoo.com>
Subject: Require/Acquire Part One

WARNING--

The following is a work of fiction, and all characters are fictional, as
are their stories. Sex with minors is illegal and as such should not be
tried at home. This work of fiction, and any and all of its installments
deal with a father and a son in an loving, if not dysfunctional, incestuous
relationshiop. If you are disturbed by this subject matter, not of legal
age to read mature erotic fiction or it is illegal to read
erotic/gay/incestous material in your country, please do not read further.

This may come off as presumptuous but if you like my writing style and have
fantasy that you would like to see written out on (screen) drop me a line
at louis_ryan83@yahoo.com, I'd be happy to make it come to life .  (Will be
submitted to Nifty, of course, but I wont profit from your idea, I just
love writing erotica when Im not working on my (non-gay or erotic)
manuscript.)

Any and all comments VERY, VERY appreciated, good or bad.

I copyright this story, and have obviously given permission in regards to
this being posted in the Nifty Archive.  It may not be copied to another
website/used for profit without prior permission from me.

Remember, my email is louis_ryan83@yahoo.com



     Tiredly, I rolled on my side to hit my alarm clock, hoping it didn't
annoy my father. The last few days it had, and I knew another strike would
leave me with a whooping or, worse, a long-term grounding. It wasn't that
he didn't understand that I needed an alarm to wake up for the day- he did
too- but I would lay in bed for minutes, falling back to sleep each time I
looked to the alarm, not knowing that minutes of shrill beeping were
reverberating through the house, instead thinking had just woken up.  While
he tried to help care for my bed-ridden pregnant mother and keep the house
clean, as he said, he didn't need a fuckin' alarm ripping his ears off. But
this time, thankfully, it hadn't gone on for long.

I slid out of bed, en route to the bathroom, and took a detour to pick out
a pair of jeans and a shirt for the rest of the day- nothing special, just
a polo and some Levi's. Once they were limply lying on my desk I stalked
towards the bathroom and once I passed the threshold dropped my boxers,
exposing my fifteen year old self to the early-to-rise world. Usually I
would close the door, worried my sister or mother would see my bare ass or
worse as they walked by, but with my mom forced to stay in bed until the
baby was delivered and my sister away at camp for at least another month, I
left it open, knowing my dad would be downstairs typing away on his
computer or highlighting reams of legal papers or working in the shed.

I used to think my father was purposefully an asshole just because he felt
like it, or maybe because when he was younger his looks and size allowed
him to act however he felt, but I have learned that he simply wants the
best for people, even if it means they dislike his delivery system. As I
washed myself with some Irish Spring (the only kind my father would buy
when he went to the grocery store in lieu of my mother) I worried about my
chores-mainly, if I could get out of doing them. Once my auburn hair was
washed of its foamy lather I stepped over the rim of the tub and quickly
grabbed for a towel, only to find the spot I usually left it at was
empty. I had forgotten to set my towel out, the one currently hanging
flaccidly on my door knob. I checked, anxious, for more under the sink,
although it was a fruitless search. I knew I would get in trouble, but I
had to get to my room some way- I grabbed a dry rag, cupped my cock and
loosely dangling balls with it, and made a dash down the hallway.  ***
After drying off I absently wrapped my towel back around my waist, instead
of slipping on my jeans- a non-decision that diverted the course of my life
forever. I grabbed the rag that I shielded my dick with and went back into
the hallway to clean up the noticeable footprints of moisture left on the
otherwise immaculate wood floor. I didn't see him at the end of the hall,
so when I bent over on the floor to wipe the water off of the floor, the
ends of the towel separated like an X-rated curtain, exposing my pink
asshole and the hill of my slightly fuzzy ball sack to my father's light
green eyes.

"You shouldn't walk around this house like that, boy, showing off your ass
like that." Shocked, I jumped forward and hunched against the wall,
mortified. And I would've stayed like that, had he not added, "Could make a
guest real...jealous."

"Sorry, dad, I'll just go to my room and get dressed and clean this mess
up." I crawled up the wall slowly, not wanting the towel to pull taut
against my engorging dick and show off my aroused state, because I didn't
know how he would deal with his son not only being a fag but wanting to
suck his member raw. I hurried across the hall and entered my room,
thinking that it was over, something I would jerk off about, cum to, then
lay still, disgusted with myself as my cum dried in puddles on my
chest. Instead, the door slammed shut and I heard my father's belt whip
off, and I immediately began pleading. "C'mon, I didn't mean to forget the
towel, that's all that happened, dad, I promise, it's an accident."

"Get your desk chair over here, now."

Distressed, I begged, "Please dad, it was accidental."

"You better get that chair over here before I change my damn mind,
William."

I brought the chair over, feeling waves of heat pulsing from all over: my
heart, spreading adrenaline; my head, nursing a headache; my cock, thinking
about the way my father's sprawling left hand would rest on my lower back
as his right whipped me with his leather belt once, twice, three
times. Only now, I would be naked, there would be no thick denim or khaki
to absorb some of his rage, but at the same time, there would be nothing to
dull the sense of his legs under my chest, balancing me, or of fingers
accidentally grazing the cliffs of my ass.

He sat in the chair and it squeaked, and for a second I was surprised his
broad-shouldered, muscular frame could be supported by a generic OfficeMax
chair that came in pieces.

"You know what to do," He said, gesturing to his lap. For a second, I
imagined unzipping his pants, tight professional ones that hugged his
sculpted ass in ways that forced an erection onto me every time I saw them,
and slipping my fingers into the hole you put your dick through to pee of
whatever underwear he was wearing, fishing for his cock and finding it,
then gagging on it smiling as he slapped me in the face with its
girth. Instead, I walked over, trying to hide my painfully obvious hardon
and rested my chest on the tops of his thighs.

But suddenly, I understood what he meant by 'before I change my damn
mind'. His cock rigidly pointed into my belly button, and I realized he
wasn't wearing underwear- the heat emitting from his cock couldn't be so
noticeable if two slips of fabric laid between us. In a swift, trained
movement, he unknotted my towel and ran a hand over my quivering ass,
letting the other one find my mouth and lube up a few thick fingers with my
tongue.

"Dad," I said quietly, but he hushed me by planting his dry hand between
the soft flesh of my inner thigh and whipping it away from its twin, casing
me to sit spread eagle in his throbbing lap.

His tongue flicked angrily behind a sensitive ear, down the curve of my
neck, over and around my nipples and directly over the line of symmetry of
my burgeoning abs. I instinctively went for his pants, unbuttoning them and
slipping my hand inside, where I found I was right, that it was just his
dick. In my hand it felt immeasurable, and as I met its tip with a
saliva-covered index finger, a glob of precum greeted me. A finger, one of
the ones I sucked on, slipped into my asshole tenderly, slowly wriggling
cylindrically in and out, causing me to shiver in anticipation.

"Take my pants off, I'm hot." He mumbled in-between loving bites at my
nipples. I shimmed my hands as best I could and eventually his pants met
the floor, and my balls met his: his were large and hung low, allowing them
to touch the chair while mine were two tight spheres of teen hormones,
begging for release.

After a second finger slipped in, and a third, he started pulling me closer
to him, his mouth locked on mine, his tongue leading the way by lightly
stroking mine. I hadn't really noticed his size until I knew I was going to
be filled with it: it was long and thick enough to make it seem like a feat
in and of itself, with a tame bush of dark brown pubic hair sitting atop
it. Mine was no more than six inches, but seemed to reflect his thickness,
a trait I am glad I inherited. First, he put his thumb on his cock's head
and his index under it, on his glands, and used his precum as lube, and
then he released a large wad of spit into his palm, running his large hands
up and down his veined shaft until it glistened in the morning sun.

A second before he penetrated me he ripped his shirt off and I laid my head
on his chiseled chest, enjoyed the tease the small hairs gave to my
cheeks. He grabbed each of my ass cheeks and separated them until I became
slightly uncomfortable and said so, then he lowered me onto his dick,
letting out a deep, masculine moan as his first inch passed through my
still-tense asshole. My fingers dug into his smooth, ridged back, and I ran
my hands over those muscles to try to forget about the pain of him entering
me. In and out, that first inch, until I let out a soft, confused moan, and
then another inch or two, until finally I was riding him, both of my hands
on his hairy pecs, one of his hands guiding my lower back and the other
placed behind his head, enjoying the view of me shivering on his rock-hard
erection. A smile crossed his face as I felt a hard throb, and he suddenly
regained his dominance, picking me up while still burrowed in me, and
laying my on the floor. Each thrust became more fervent, harder, rougher,
less controlled, until finally he bit my nipple hardly and ran his tongue
from the raw teeth marks to my ears, whispered, "Oh god yes," and emptied
his balls into me, filling my ass with viscous, hot wad of jizz that lubed
my ass pointlessly. It was this that made me spasm violently and let out a
loud moan of intense pleasure, spurting my load between my father's chest
and mine.

He remained over me for a second, even invaded my mouth with his tongue
once or twice, then got to his knees and stood up, his erection not fully
gone but bobbing up and down, almost like it wanted more of me, of a part
of itself.

"We need to clean you up boy, you're mom doesn't need the stress of
thinking about a dirty boy romping around the house."

For a second, I laid in shock, wondering if this was just one big taboo
dream and worrying I would wake up and have to clean my cum off the sheets
once again. But instead, I heard the shower start down the hall, and the
unmistakable sound of a hulking body stopping the waters trajectory,
forcing the sound of its weight slapping against porcelain to become less
noticeable. I stood up, ran my finger between my legs where some of his cum
had collected, and thought about tasting it- but then, I thought, becoming
rigidly erect once again, why can't I have it fresh?