Date: Wed, 20 Jun 2012 21:46:51 +1000
From: Toby T <tndrlvngcr@gmail.com>
Subject: Routine

Everyone has their routine, I suppose. For my father, every Sunday morning,
it involved getting up at the crack of dawn and heading out for a long
jog. He tried to be quiet, but I was woken up by the sound of the front
door closing. I don't know how he does it. After my Saturday night out
drinking with the boys, getting up early was the last thing I felt like. I
lingered in my warm bed for a while. But I had my Sunday morning routine
too, and it had to be kept. I forced myself to get out of bed. I
practically rolled out of bed and onto the floor, where I put in about
fifty push-ups. I stood up and looked in the mirror. My chest was nice and
puffed. I looked good, I thought.

Opening the bedroom door, I shuffled my way to the kitchen and drank some
water. I then went to the bathroom where I brushed my teeth, shaved, used
the toilet, before stepping into the shower. The jets of hot water felt
nice. It revived and relaxed me at the same time. I could have stood there
forever. When I'd made sure I was nice and clean, I turned off the water
and towelled myself off. Since there was no one else at home, I didn't
bother to put on any clothes. I walked out of the bathroom naked, past the
door of my own room, and into my Dad's. He hadn't drawn back the curtains
fully, but they were slightly open, probably from his pulling them back to
check the weather outside. The diffuse morning light filtered through the
gap and hit the bed. He'd left his bed unmade, the sheets rumpled. I
climbed naked into his bed and buried my face in his pillow, breathing in
his clean, manly scent. I pulled the sheets over my body and wrapped myself
in his presence. It felt nice. I was getting aroused. I pressed my
semi-erection against the sheets, taking another deep breath and taking in
Dad's scent. I loved this time of the morning. I just laid there in my
father's bed, enjoying the feeling of being close to Dad, without him even
being there.

After I don't know how long, I heard the front door again. Dad had come
back from his jog. I knew he was going to head into the shower. I closed my
eyes and listened to the sound of the water from the bathroom. Eventually
the water stopped. I kept my eyes closed, but a couple of minutes later I
could feel his presence in the room. He'd paused at the door when he saw
me, and I could feel him taking in the sight of his own son lying in his
bed.

After a while he spoke, casually: "You know the best thing about a Sunday
morning jog?" I opened my eyes to look at him, but I didn't answer. He had
a bath towerl wrapped around his waist. Steam was still rising from his
body. He looked like everything a man was supposed to be. Muscles in all
the right places. Masculine, strong, and sexy without even trying. "What I
find in my bed when I come back," he answered himself, with a sweet smile
on his face, almost a little shy.

Dad walked up to the edge of the bed. I looked up and watched his approach
with my heart thumping in my chest. He smiled down at me as he let the
towel drop to the floor, revealing his beautiful, semi-erect penis. He
lifted the sheets and climbed naked into bed beside his son. I immediately
snuggled up to him and pressed my body against his, my erection digging
into his thigh. I'd been hard the whole time I was lying there waiting for
him. Our faces met and he kissed me on the lips. My mouth parted readily
and soon our tongues were caressing each other.

My Dad was a great kisser. Our lips caressed each other and our tongues
darted in and out of our mouths. As we kissed, Dad's organ hardened from a
semi-erection to full mast, until it laid flat against his stomach thick
and proud. I ran my hands over his gorgeous body as we kissed. I'd always
thought that Dad had a great body, but in the last few months he'd gotten
into even better shape. I'd like to think I had something to do with
it. Just like how when I worked out, I'd think about getting my body to
look good for my Dad, and I'd be able to push myself a bit harder. I'd like
to think I motivated him in the same way he motivated me. I broke our kiss
so I could get on with worshipping his body. I licked my way down his neck
and shoulders, before my hands and my lips got to work on that strong manly
chest of his. I couldn't get enough of it.

I followed the treasure trail down his beautiful abs until his big erection
was poking me in the face, begging for attention. I took my favorite toy in
my hand and admired its majesty. I ran my hand up and down its length,
trying to memorize every detail. It was perfectly hard, towering up from
between Dad's legs. It felt so fucking powerful. I kissed it. I rubbed my
thumb over his tip, spreading the clear juices over the head. I planted my
tongue on the underside and licked it over and over. I looked up the length
of my Dad's torso and smiled at him. Seeing the anticipation in his eyes, I
took his throbbing erection into my mouth. Gosh he was so thick. I can't
explain why I got so much pleasure from having my lips wrapped around my
father's hard cock, but I couldn't get enough of it. I made love to Dad's
dick with my mouth and my tongue. I loved how hot and hard it was, yet so
velvety against my tongue. I loved tracing the throbbing veins on his cock
with my tongue. I loved gliding my lips up and down the length of his
shaft. I loved feeling his cockhead rub against the back of my throat. I
loved his taste, his girth, his manly power, and the sound of his
moans. And I loved feeling the intensity with which he watched every second
of it.

When I came up for air, Dad pulled me up the length of his body and pressed
his mouth over mine, putting his tongue where his erection had just
been. He rolled us over and pinned me down on his bed, and proceeded to
squeeze and kiss his way down my body, from head to toe, then back up
again. He was making love to my body the way a gourmet savours his favorite
dish. When he decided to put his focus between my legs, his hot breath on
my cock made it twitch in front of his face. He dug his hands under me and
grabbed my butt cheeks, while he first covered my balls with his mouth, and
then engulfed my aching dick. His lips slid down my shaft until his nose
was buried in my pubes. His mouth felt so warm and wet and soft, it was
heaven. And when he turned on the suction and went to work on me with
amazing skill, I couldn't help writhing underneath him and making a lot of
noise. He took me in so deep. I can't really explain that feeling of having
my cock head lodged in his throat.

Dad let me out of his mouth and climbed up my sweaty body, pressing his
full weight on top of me and crushing me into the bed. His mouth covered
mine and I wrapped my arms and legs around his nakedness. Our bodies were
melting into each other. I grabbed his butt and squeezed the firm globes
greedily, grinding our groins together. Eventually Dad rolled onto his
back, pulling me on top of him. I sat up and straddled him. Looking down, I
saw the two throbbing erections, father and son, pressed together. It was a
sight that always made my heart skip several beats. Dad stretched out his
arm and grabbed some lube off the bedside table. Licking his lips, he took
both our dicks in one hand, and spread lube onto them, pressing and rubbing
our engorged shafts together. He loved doing that. It looked incredible,
and felt even more amazing.

Eventually he let go of his own dick so that he could concentrate his
efforts on mine. He knew what made me tick and his hand worked magic on my
organ, making me gasp and tremble under his touch. His free hand roamed my
torso. He locked his eyes onto mine, silently asking me to do the same for
him. I didn't need any encouragement, and took his hot shaft in my right
hand while my other hand explored his beautiful chest. I loved feeling the
veins on his powerfully thick cock, and I loved watching his reaction to my
every touch. I rubbed my thumb along the ridge on the underside of his cock
head, which I knew he loved. And sure enough he arched his back and closed
his eyes in ecstasy.

"This is real nice," he said throatily.

I took the lube from him, and spread some more of it onto his thick rod and
worked it up and down his length as he watched. I squeezed more lube onto
my fingers. Then I reached down between my legs and spread it into and
around my butt hole.

"What are you doing?" His eyes widened and he asked.

"I need you inside me so bad Dad," I answered.

"We've already talked about this, son. That's a line I'm not going to
cross. No way."

I had fantasized countless times about Dad fucking my brains out of me, but
it had never happened. "That's never going to happen between us," he had
made it very clear. "Why not?" I had asked time and again. "Because I'm
your father! That's why." His answer seemed reasonable and absurd at the
same time.

At the risk of sounding too cocky, there were any number of men out there
who'd kill to get a piece of my ass. But here I was, begging to be fucked,
and bring turned down time and again. But what was I to do? I was crazy
about this man in front of me.

Nearly a year ago, when all of this started, it had been relatively
innocent. We had somehow ended up jerking off together as we sat side by
side (okay, maybe I kind of made it happen). We looked and stared at each
other while we stroked our own dicks, but we didn't touch each other. My
heart nearly stopped when I saw my Dad shoot his stuff for the first
time. At that point, it was the hottest thing that I could have ever hoped
for. We did it again a few more times. Eventually, one day, I couldn't
resist anymore, and when we were both really getting into our masturbation,
I reached over and grabbed hold of Dad's dick. I started caressing and
jerking his thick hot rod for him. He moaned and groaned, and, to my
surprise and delight, reached over and started jerking me too. We came in
each other's hand.

It all went from there. Our mutual jerk sessions soon became a weekly
routine, every Sunday morning. On one of these Sunday mornings, while we
were sitting on his bed masturbating each other, in the heat of the moment
we leaned towards each other and we started kissing. Before long, I was
having full-on make out sessions every Sunday morning with my Dad. We'd get
totally naked and kiss and touch each other. First we kissed only on the
mouth and face. Soon we were licking and kissing each other all over. We
always ended up jerking each other to orgasm.

Dad told himself, and me, that we were just jerk off buddies. That it
wasn't really sex. So it was a very long time, just three months ago in
fact, before he finally let me suck his cock. I had been dying to do it,
and I could tell he wanted it too, but he just couldn't get over that
hurdle in his head. Once I had my lips on his rock hard meat though, he was
totally into it. It was so hot for me, I used to cum just from sucking
him. It didn't take long for him to reciprocate. Nevertheless, it was only
a month ago that he eventually let himself cum in my mouth.

But I wanted to be even closer to him. From the second I saw my father's
erect penis, I wanted to touch it. Once I had it in my hand, I knew I
wanted to have it in my mouth. And once I had his cock in my mouth, I knew
I wanted to feel it in my ass. I had been trying to take our relationship
to the next level for the past two weeks, but Dad was as adamant as ever
that we weren't going to go any further. It wouldn't be right, he
said. Somehow, he had suddenly subscribed to the Bill Clinton theory that
oral sex wasn't really intercourse, and so he hadn't really been having sex
with his son. We were just 'fooling around'. It seemed obvious to me that
we had been making love to each other for months, and it frustrated me that
he chose to think of us still as jerk off buddies. But then, if that was
what it took for him to keep our Sunday routine going, I was willing to put
up with it.

Nevertheless, the idea of getting fucked by Dad was becoming an obsession
for me. It would be the ultimate thrill. And then he wouldn't be able to
say we were jerk off buddies anymore. I didn't want to be his buddy. I
didn't want to be his son with benefits. I wanted us to be full-on
lovers. "Being father and son is a very special thing. I don't want us to
lose that." He'd say. But I didn't want him to stop being my father. I
wanted him to be my Dad AND my lover. At the same time. I wanted him so
much precisely because he was special to me. We would be closer than any
other two men could ever be to each other.

"You know I can't."

His mouth said no, but I could feel his throbbing hotness in my hand. I
looked down and saw that he was so excited the head of his dick was glossy,
and his whole organ was an angry colour. A steady trickle of clear juice
was oozing out of his piss slit. "I want to be fucked by you, DAD," I
looked him in the eyes and said. I felt a throb and a sharp jerk in my hand
before he said "No, I can'tÉ"

He kept saying "I can't", but I noticed he never said he didn't want to. I
leaned in to kiss him. He grabbed the back of my head and pressed my lips
into his. I kept stroking his cock the whole time. My butt hole was really
twitching, I wanted him so much. I sat my butt crack on the underside of
his shaft and rubbed back and forth as we made out. Then I pushed his cock
down so now the top side of the shaft is lodged against my crack. Dad
groaned into my mouth. At one point, with everything aligned, I pushed back
hard against him and Dad's cock head pushed into my hole. It penetrated
surprisingly easily, since we were both lubed up and his penis was hard as
a steel pipe. He broked the kiss and looked at me in surprise. "No!" he
whispered. I didn't say anything. I slowly sat up and kept pushing down on
him, feeling my daddy's thick cock stretching my tight hole and inching its
way deep into me, until I was finally sitting on his pubes.

Dad squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back, groaning as he did
so. "I can't do thisÉ C'mon, get off itÉ" he grunted. He grabbed me
by the waist and tried to lift me off his hard cock. He pulled out until
only the head was in, but I pushed back again, making him penetrate me
again all the way, eliciting another big groan from the big man. "You don't
listen to your Dad, do you?" he said, and strengthened his grip on my
waist. This time he pulled me much harder. He's a strong man, and I wasn't
really a match for him. He lifted me off his cock. I so didn't want to let
him go, and felt disappointed as his cock head was about to pop out. But
there was a pause. He just held me there. He was looking at me, breathing
hard. Then, still holding me in the same place, I felt Dad's big cock push
back into me again. He was raising his hips to meet me.  He went in, then
he lowered himself and pulled out again, and then in, and then out againÉ

"Ooooh DadÉ" I was so happy. He still looked at me, slightly shaking his
head, as he relaxed his grip on my body. I sank back down, and began to
ride my father's cock gently. "Oh fuck!" Dad groaned, biting his lower lip
and puffing his chest. He still had his hands on my hips, but now they are
guiding me in a rolling rhythm as I moved up and down on his engorged love
muscle. "I should never have let you seduce meÉ" he groaned. His right
hand ran up and down my abs and chest, before grabbing the back of my neck
and pulling me down for a kiss. Our bodies rocked together in a gentle
rhythm. His hands were kneading my butt and guiding it over his swollen
rod. Before long, his instinct got the better of him and he rolled us over
on the bed so that he was on top.

Dad began to rock his hips, ever so gently at first, but slowly picking up
pace. I grabbed onto his butt with my hands and felt his every move. I
closed my eyes and savoured the sensation of being pinned down by my
father's body, of a part of his body moving inside of mine. I was stretched
tight over my father's massive raging hardon. It felt strange but
pleasurable, and naughty but natural at the same time. I felt excited but
calm, a bit scared but oh so safe.

It didn't take Dad long to get into it, and soon he had fully taken over
the driver's seat. I moaned and moaned as Dad fucked me, losing myself in
the sensations washing over my body as his thick meaty instrument slid its
length in and out of my hole. My hands swept up and down over his strong,
undulating back, squeezing and clawing at him. My own dick felt harder than
it had ever been, as if it was getting an extra boost from my father's cock
inside me. The hairs on his stomach brushed against my sensitive cock and
balls as he rolled his hips to drive his penis into me. The room was filled
with the sounds of my moans, his breathing and the contact between our
bodies. With my eyes closed, I concentrated on the sensation of Dad's big
rod stretching and plumbing my butt hole. I knew for certain then that no
other man in the world could ever make me feel like this.

"Open your eyes", I heard him say. "Open your eyes." I complied and saw him
leaning down over me, his face inches away. His eyes were fixed intently on
my face. "Look at me, boy," he grunted with some effort, his voice filled
with emotion and urgency. "Look your father in the eye while he fucks you."
And so I did. Our eyes stared into each other while Dad fucked me. It was
such an incredibly intense connection between us, as we looked into each
other's familiar faces while we experienced each other in a totally new,
unfamiliar way. It was a far more intense experience than I could have ever
imagined.

The past few months of stroking, licking and sucking that organ did not
quite prepare me for the experience of being fucked by it. Its hardness and
size felt so exaggerated inside my butt. To be honest, Dad was so totally
hot that I wouldn't have cared whether he was well hung or not. The fact
that my father happened to pack a massive, thick equipment between his legs
was just an added bonus. And the way he was giving it to me was so
delicious.

Dad was plying me open with every stroke. "Fuck you're tightÉ" he
grunted. I wondered if he knew he was taking his son's cherry. I hadn't
told him that I had never been fucked. I wanted Dad to know that he was
being the first, that I'd been saving it for him. He would have liked to
know. But I didn't dare say anything, in case it freaked him out and made
him change his mind. I would tell him one day.

The intensity was too much for me to bear. I leaned up and pushed my lips
onto his mouth. We immediately began to suck the breath out of each other
in a passionate wet kiss. His hands ran up and down my body as he pumped
me.

Dad broke our kiss and pulled away from me. He pulled his slimy wet cock
out of me and turned me slightly on my side. Straddling one of my thighs,
he took my other leg and put it over his right shoulder, before guiding his
hard dick toward my butt hole and determinedly pushing it in with the full
weight of his powerful body. "AhhhÉ" he sighed, and a satisfied smiled
crept onto his face. He liked the sensation of this new position. So did I,
as he started to massage my insides with his sliding cock. My father always
taught me that either you didn't do something, or, if you were going to do
it at all, you must do it well. And here he was, practising what he
preached. Dad was in lover mode. He tried different rhythms and different
angles with his strokes, experimenting with how it felt, and watching and
listening to my reaction to gauge how good a job he was doing. Time and
again we changed positions, as Dad moved my body around so that he could
try out different moves. He'd completely lost his inhibitions, making love
with me as if he had always intended to, fucking me like he really meant
it.

Eventually I ended up on my back again, with my legs wrapped around my
Dad's waist while he rolled his hips and pumped his gorgeous hard dick in
and out of me, my pucker greedily grabbing his meat with his every
thrust. We were a hot, writhing tangle of muscle and sweat, our bodies
melting into each other. I wrapped my arms around his broad, muscular back
and hung on tight. "HrrrrÉ HrrrghÉ" my father grunted as beads of
sweat rolled down his handsome face. Dad packed every ounce of horse power
he had behind every thrust, slamming that steel rod of his throbbing cock
into me and grinding it home. There was no trace of the man who, less than
half an hour ago, asked me not to let him go down this path. I guess he had
been taken over by his instincts: the animal instinct to breed, the male
instinct to fuck, and the paternal instinct to show off. I could feel that
he was determined to show me what a great man my father was. How powerful
he could be. How well he could fuck.

And boy, did he show me. I was drowning in the pleasure and intense
sensations he was giving me, I could no longer speak. I could only make the
occasional whimpering sound. None of my fantasies could have prepared me
for what I was feeling. I'd spent countless nights imagining my Dad fucking
me, but I could have never imagined some of the moves he was using on me
now. They were so terribly nasty and so loving at the same time, and
totally sexy. My whole body was stretched over his thick invading cock, and
his body had in turned enveloped mine in a tight, frantic embrace. I had
never felt such an intense physical and emotional connection with my
father. Or with anybody for that matter. I now understood why people said
sex was about becoming one. I felt like Dad and I would never separate
again.

"Does this feel good? Are you enjoying my cock?" he grunted. I looked up at
him and gasped: "YesÉ I love your cock DadÉ is your cock enjoying
me?" He didn't answer me. He just pushed his fuck stick deeper into me and
picked up the pace of his thrusts.

"Is this what you wanted?" he grunted as he sank his cum rod into me over
and over. "YÉ yesÉ DadÉ" was all I could manage. How I had wanted
this. But it wasn't all I wanted. There was something else I wanted from
him. Something that would irrevocably seal the ultimate bond between
us. But I knew that would come soon.

The intensity of our coupling built in an unstoppable crescendo. Delicious
pleasure ran through my body like electricity. I hoped I was giving Dad as
much pleasure as he was giving me. My whole world was my father's cock and
his skin and his hands, his arms, his back, his lips, his hot breath on my
mouth. I squeezed and twisted my butt and did everything I could think of
to milk his big gorgeous cum stick. I was grabbing and scratching at his
body, and he was squeezing and lifting and stabbng and stretching me and
thenÉ the inevitable happened. The natural climax of the past few
months. Dad's shaft and head grew even thicker and harder, and a wet and
intense heat exploded deep within me. With his member buried deep inside me
down to the root, I felt one powerful blast after another of my father's
fresh white-hot sperm coating my insides. Straight from his balls, he
injected his thick scalding cum deep into my body. I'd tasted his creamy
juices before over the past few weeks, which I thought was pretty
mind-blowing. But that was nothing compared to this. The sensation, and the
very idea, of being seeded by my own Dad triggered an immediate reaction in
me. My head began to spin, and I felt an uncontrollable spasm radiate from
the very core of my body. An intense orgasm shook my whole body and, while
Dad was still fast-pumping his rich, creamy semen into me, I let loose a
long jet of my own jizz that coated both our chests, followed by another
jet that hit Dad on the chin and landed on my face, then another, and
anotherÉ It was a brand new sensation, coming with Dad's erect penis
embedded deep inside me. It was the hardest orgasm I'd ever had. Dad had so
much to give. He roared as he emptied his balls into me in an unstoppable
torrent. That's one thing I'd come to know and love about my father: he's
loud when he orgasms.

When we were spent he collapsed on top of me, our bodies a sweaty, sticky
tangle, my insides filled full of hot Daddy cum. Dad put his mouth over
mine and we kissed like the lovers that we were. He was still inside me
when we dozed off from the exhaustion.

I'm not sure how long I was out for. When I woke up, Dad was sitting on the
edge of the bed next to me. He was still naked, and looked as sexy as
ever. He had a warm, wet towel in his hand and he was wiping down my sticky
torso. I looked at his face. He looked kind of grim, and he avoided eye
contact. That made me worried. He didn't say anything for a long time. I
didn't quite know what to say either. "We came an awful lotÉ" I said
eventually just to break the silence, eyeing the sticky mess he was
cleaning off my chest.

"That's all yours," he said.

"How can you tell whoseÉ " I began to say, when I noticed his expression
turned even grimmer. Then I realised: Dad too had come a lot, but, this
time, he had unloaded all his seeds inside my butt. I was suddenly aware of
the wet gooey feeling inside.

We fell into another awkward silence. Dad still hadn't made eye contact
with me. Eventually, he cleared his throat and said in a thick, dry voice:
"I think we should get you in the shower to clean up."

He turned on the shower in the bathroom. We waited for the water to heat up
before stepping under it together. Dad was really quiet in the
shower. Neither of us said anything. He got a bit like that every time we
escalated our relationship, and I knew he was processing what we had just
done and trying to come to terms with it. I hoped that he would eventually
come to accept it somehow, like he had done all the other times. It would
usually take him some time. Maybe a few days. Maybe a couple of weeks. But
he always came around eventually. I had my own feelings to process. I had
thought that if I could just experience getting fucked by Dad one time, I
would be able to die happy. It would be already beyond my wildest dreams,
and I would be content if that was the end of it all. But now that I had
felt him inside me, the only thing I knew was that I wanted to feel him
againÉ and againÉ If anything my desire for him was stronger than
ever.

We stood under the strong hot jets of water and soaped each other up. It
felt nice and reassuring to feel his hands on my skin.

Eventually his hands were on my butt, caressing the firm round globes. Then
his soapy middle finger slipped into my butt crack and gently massaged my
hole. "Did I hurt you?" he finally said, his voice thick, as if he was
embarrassed.

"No, not at all," I lied. My butt did feel sore from the pounding I got
from his hard cock. "It felt wonderful." That wasn't a lie. I reached down
and gently took hold of his soft penis. Timidly I asked: "WasÉ was IÉ
alright?" Dad didn't answer for a long time. He looked into my eyes, as if
he didn't know what to say, or whether he should say it.

Finally, with some emotion, he said: "You were perfect." It made me happy,
and relieved, and proud, to hear him say that.

As it turned out, it didn't take my father that long to come to terms with
this new phase in our relationship. After our shower, he climbed back into
his bed, and he lifted the sheets, inviting me to join him. We stayed there
and made out for the rest of the morning. And he fucked me a second time. I
didn't even have to beg for it. Dad fucked me with as much passion, urgency
and skill as the first time. But with even more stamina. It really was
perfect.

My Dad was perfect.

This man gave me everything I wanted and needed, in and out of bed. Why
would I want anyone else? Boy I loved this man. I wanted to tell him, but I
didn't. Not yet. Maybe he already knew.

It seemed we had added a new routine to our Sunday mornings. My only
thought was: do I really have to wait till next Sunday?