Date: Tue, 7 Jan 2014 23:31:09 +1100
From: Toby T <tndrlvngcr@gmail.com>
Subject: Routine 2

The cool, crisp morning air was invigorating. The sun had risen just an
hour ago. I was nearing the end of my routine Sunday morning run. It was
never easy getting out of a warm bed at the crack of dawn on a Sunday
morning. But it was worth it. The longer I ran, the more refreshed and
energetic I felt. There was hardly anyone around at this hour, which was
just how I liked it. I saw a couple walking their dog, and a couple of guys
jogged past me, going in the opposite direction. They looked like father
and son, both quite handsome. I rounded the last corner before I reached
home. As much as I enjoyed the run, it was good to be home. I was looking
forward to what the day would bring.

I headed straight for the shower. The hot water washed the sweat and muscle
fatigue off my body. Stepping out, I dried my hair and my body
quickly. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I stepped into my bedroom with
steam still rising from my body. As expected, I was greeted with the sight
of a perfectly formed young man sleeping in my bed. When I left for my run
this morning, he had been still sound asleep. It continued to surprise me,
every time I looked at him, just how handsome my son was.

He had come to live with me when his mother remarried. He was fourteen
then, just a kid. But over the next few years he transformed and grew into
a beautiful, athletic young man. A jock who took his own youth and
attractiveness so much for granted that he hardly seemed conscious of
it. That was when he started walking around the house wearing nothing more
than skin tight briefs that hugged his bubble butt and package. He started
walking in on me while I was in the shower or getting changed. He would
stare at me when he thought I wasn't looking. And he began touching and
hugging me more than he had before. I thought nothing of it at first. The
idea of anything sexual between my own son and myself was so alien and
unthinkable that it would never have occured to me. But his behavior was so
persistent that eventually even the most obtuse man had to notice.

Once the idea got into my head, that my son might have the hots for his old
man, it wouldn't go away. It wouldn't be ignored. I started seeing the way
he acted around me in a new light, and my observations simply confirmed my
suspicions. He wanted me! To my own surprise, the idea didn't disgust or
shock me. It intrigued and puzzled me. I felt flattered that he desired
me. I thought of him masturbating in his own room, thinking about me, and I
couldn't help but wonder what he imagined me doing with him. In wondering,
I inevitably ended up imagining it myself. Images that should never have
crossed my mind but could not be unthought. I was terrified to find that I
was aroused. I began to notice how handsome and sexy my son really was. The
radiance of his smile. The smoothness of his skin. The sinew of the muscles
underneath. The perfect proportions of his body. I never did anything to
encourage him though, at least not consciously. But I might have held his
gaze a little too long sometimes, or hugged him back a little too tight
when he embraced me. I don't know. This went on for a long time. On the
morning when he finally found the courage to climb into his Dad's bed under
some flimsy excuse, I knew exactly what was on his mind, and in spite of
myself I got hard right away under the sheetsÉ

He was lying there under the covers, his eyes closed, his meaty pecs rising
and falling with his breathing, exactly as I had left him when I went for
my run.

Exactly as I had left himÉ Except I knew from experience that while I
was out running, he would have got up, gone to the toilet, brushed his
teeth, showered and shaved, before slipping back into bed. That was his
routine. I thought of him doing all that, preparing himself, getting ready
for sex with his Dad. It was so sweet.

I knew he wasn't really asleep. He opened his eyes and looked at me,
smiling the perfect smile. "Morning Dad." An image from the night before
flashed across my mind, of that handsome face dripping with my fresh
cum. My dick jumped. "How was your run?"

"Wonderful, and even better now that I'm back," I said as I stepped up to
the bed and stood in front of him. I let the towel drop to the floor. He
looked up and down the length of his father's body. He reached out his hand
and placed it on my thigh. As his hand travelled up my thigh towards my
groin, my already half-hard penis grew to a full erection right in front of
his eyes. That was the effect he had on me. It didn't take much, no more
than a look or a touch from him, to get me fully hard.

He wrapped his hand around the base of my erection and gave it a gentle
tug. I obliged and climbed into bed, pulling the covers off to reveal his
hunky, naked body. I straddled his chest. Starting with one hand on each of
my thighs, his hands eagerly explored my body. I leaned forward, moving my
protruding organ closer toward his face. He grabbed it and leaned his head
forward to kiss it. He rubbed my erection all over his handsome face, and
then parted his lips and took me into his hot wet mouth, just like he did
the night before. It was an obscene but exciting sight: my hunky son's lips
stretched over the fat shaft of my cock. It felt pretty damn good too.

I let him nurse on it for a while, before pulling out and laying my body on
top of his. His arms and legs immediately wrapped around me and I covered
his mouth with mine in a deep kiss. The fronts of our bodies hungrily
pressed against each other, with our two hard, engorged poles caught in
between. Starting with his neck, my mouth systematically moved down his
perfect body, kissing and tasting each muscle group in turn. I was proud to
experience first hand the impressive muscles on his arms, chest and
abs. But the most impressive muscle was between his legs. A thick,
powerful, beautifully shaped organ that bore a striking resemblance to my
own. Like his father, he was a leaker when he got excited. There was
already a pool of sweet clear liquid gathering on his abs. He ran his
fingers through my hair as I made love to his hard cock with my hand and my
lips. When I took him into my mouth, I felt the powerful hardness and his
throbbing pulse against my tongue. He moaned as he dug his fingers harder
into my scalp. I could tell from the sounds he was making that he was
enjoying my service.

But he was also eager to return the favor and get his hands and lips on his
father's body. So when I came up for air, he seized the chance to push me
on my back and immediately he was climbing all over me. He made my body
feel so good. "You're so strong," he moaned as his hands and mouth switched
their attention from my arms to my chest. "Oh Dad you're so hot," he
groaned, covering my left nipple with his mouth. He slowly worked his way
down my torso. When he reached my groin and proceeded to make love to my
organ, he took to the task with so much devotion, hunger and gratitude that
it was as close as I'd ever felt to being worshipped. It seemed he could
never get enough of his Daddy's meat. The truth is, no one had ever made me
harder than he did. Wheneven I was in bed with this gorgeous young man, I
always felt larger than life. He stroked and rubbed and kissed and licked,
like he was worried it was going to be taken away from him. Then I was
inside his mouth and my dick was tickling the back of his throat, and my
mind just went blank.

When I recovered my senses, I looked down my body and saw those beautiful
eyes staring up at me while his lips were stretched over the thick base of
my fat shaft. When he came up for air, I pulled him up to me so that I
could stare into his gorgeous face. He stared back at me with the same look
of appreciation, before leaning in for another hot kiss. We laid in each
other's arms, our lips locked together, our tongues gliding over each
other. He cupped and kneaded my balls, making my dick jump. And then each
of us had a hand on the other's erection, stroking away lovingly. We moaned
into each other's mouths. His hand worked my shaft expertly. He knew me so
well by now. He knew just what I liked. I was so hard I felt like I could
drive a nail through a wall.

I pulled my face back again to look at him, and saw in his eyes a look that
just made my heart melt. A look that said without words: Dad, I need your
cock! And the honest truth was, I needed him just as much as he needed me,
maybe even more. The copious stream of pre-cum dripping from my rod had
coated his palm with clear juice. It made my cock head so sensitive as his
slick hand glided over my dick. My own hand was similarly wet with the
clear nectar from his painfully hard organ.

"I wanna fuck you," I withdrew my tongue from his mouth just long enough to
grunt.

"Hmm?" he grunted back.

"I wannaÉ I need to fuck you," I broke our kiss to say.

He pulled his head back to look at me, a mischievous grin spreading across
his face. I knew what he was thinking: that just over two months ago he
would be begging and begging for me to fuck him, and time and again I had
refused. It struck me too how much things have changed between
us. Thankfully he wasn't going to make me beg for him. He bounded up and
reached for the lube from the bedside drawer. He squeezed the stuff onto
his hand, and was about to spread it on my erection when he paused. He
looked at my crotch, lowered his face to it, and took the cockhead into his
mouth for one last taste. Only then did he put his hand on it and spread
the lube over my head and shaft. It felt so good.

"Yeah boy, get it good and wet so Daddy can fuck you with it!" I said
throatily. It nearly made him faint. He hastily put some more lube on his
fingers and reached between his own legs to spread it on his butthole. Then
he straddled my waist, reached back to grab my wet erection and aimed it at
his hole.

"Gonna sit on it, are you?" I said. He nodded, and sat back. We were both
so aroused that my cockhead made the first entry easily into his well lubed
hole. He sat back slowly and my shaft slowly penetrated his body,
stretching him open as it went. He was tight, and I liked that. I also
liked how hot and smooth he felt inside, such a contrast to my unforgiving
hardness. His sphincter squeezed my throbbing manhood on its way down in a
sort of massage. It reminded me of our first fuck; we had begun in the same
position. I had been reluctant back then, or pretending to be, but no
longer. Not that I was fucking my son every night these days. Although we
made out and made love not infrequently, we fucked probably only about once
a week. Not from lack of desire, mind you. But our first intercourse had
been so amazingly intense, I didn't want to lose that. The worst thing was
to fuck out of habit or convenience, and we agreed that we would only fuck
when we were both desperate for it. It made it so much better, and the
build-up throughout the week was delicious.

His firm butt cheeks sat firmly on my pubes. I was completely buried inside
him, to the hilt, unmoving, but alive and throbbing. I was so grateful that
he wanted me in there. He let out a sigh. "Uhhh, you're so big." What man
doesn't like a compliment like that? "You feel full?" I asked as I ran my
hands up his thighs and onto his waist. "Yeah," he said as he leaned
forward to run his hands over his Dad's torso. In doing so, he let my cock
slip out a bit. He reclaimed it as he sat back again, starting a gentle
motion of lovemaking that gradually built up to an energetic ride. My hands
roamed that beautiful body as he rode his father's cock like a pro. I
remembered the first time he did this, how endearingly clumsy he had been,
spurred on only by his uncontrollable lust, his youthful bravado and an
overwhelming desire to please me. Now he performed with confidence. But his
lust and his desire to please were undiminished.

"How's that?É Do you like that?" he asked, searching my face for
approval. He apparently had no idea how incredible he was. He was leaning
back with one hand on my leg, raising his butt up and down on my meaty rod
while he own bloated erection pointed proudly at the ceiling. His internal
muscles were hugging my oversized penis so tight. Every nerve ending on my
dick was firing like crazy. I felt so good I could hardly speak. He had me
rolling my head from side to side in ecstasy. I didn't have to do very
much, except to lie back and enjoy the torrents of pleasure that radiated
from my groin and washed over my entire body. I didn't know how I was
supposed to feel, to know that my son was becoming an expert cock rider. I
only knew that it was my cock he was riding now, and it felt fucking
amazing.

He was enjoying himself just as much, judging from the look on his flushed
handsome face. The contact between our bodies made slapping sounds as he
bounced up and down on me. The muscles on his body flexed as he exerted
himself in the ride, and my hands lustily squeezed and caressed every bit I
could reach. He shuddered every time I fingered the hard erect nipples on
his muscled pecs. I couldn't ignore the large, heavy instrument swinging
between his legs, looking red and angry. The large pole of flesh bounced
wildly as his body bucked while he fucked himself with my cock. It was
slapping itself between his stomach and mine, all the while spewing strings
of clear juice. I just had to grab hold of it. It felt so hot and hard in
my grip. As I started stroking him, the groan that came from him would make
one think I was hurting him, but I knew I wasn't, and he never slowed down
in what he was doing. If anything, he took to it with even more gusto. The
skin all over his body was flushed as he impaled himself on his Daddy. It
was as if he was in a trance, mesmerized by the power of the life-giving
organ churning his insides. His bucking took on a frenzied pace, and I
matched it with the strokes of my hand on his cock. Suddenly and without
warning, his whole body started shaking. A strange noise came from the back
of his throat. I felt violent spasms around my engorged manhood as his
insides convulsed and squeezed. Before I knew it, my face and chest was
being sprayed with scalding hot boy-cum, rope after rope of which exploded
from the jerking penis in my hand. I hadn't expected him to cum then, but I
took it in my stride and welcomed it. I thrusted my manhood deep into him,
making sure to be there for him throughout his orgasm.

The range of his ejaculation shortened, the last two shots landing on my
abs. The spasms around my cock subsided to a dull throbbing, and my son's
body became lax. I stopped my thrusts as he collapsed on top of me. I
hugged him close as he breathed into my mouth, coming down from his
climax. It was like the air had been let out of him. But my raging hard-on
was still embedded inside him, just as hard as before. Maybe even harder.

I rolled his body off mine and onto the bed, slipping my rock hard cock out
of him.

"Oh Dad, don't stop. I still want you."

"Don't worry. I ain't stopping. I couldn't stop if I tried. We're not
finished, not by a long shot." I told him. My voice was thick and coarse.

I flipped him over on to his stomach and pulled his hips up to raise his
butt off the bed. Wiping his semen off my face with the back of my hand, I
got behind him between his legs, on my knees, the organ between my legs
swinging heavily, engorged with my blood. I had never felt so hard or so
big. I slapped my angry red tool on his butt crack. Spreading the two
smooth muscled globes with my hands, I found the opening to his already
well fucked hole and positioned my cockhead against it. Leaning in, I once
again penetrated my boy. His body accepted me readily, but as I sank my
hard length into him, the pressure from his tight hole was unmistakable. My
instincts compelled me to start fucking him immediately. Once again
indescribable pleasure overtook my body. I pulled him up some more so that
he was now on his hands and knees, giving me better access and allowing for
deeper penetration.

Usually my preferred position was without a doubt ones where we were face
to face, so that we could see each other while we made love. That would
mean either the missionary position, or him riding my dick. I loved to see
the expression of hunger and satisfaction on his face, and to be able to
gauge his reaction to my cock so I could strive to make him feel even
better. But every now and then, it was nice to be in this position, behind
him, where I could look down and see my engorged manhood embedded between
those perfectly taut globes of his ass, to watch my thick shiny erection
pushing into his butt, then to watch the hard shaft re-emerging from the
hungry hole, only to push its way back in again. It was the most beautiful,
and the nastiest, sight.

He began to moan loudly again with every stroke of my penis. I spread his
cheeks again to watch my hard meaty pipe stretch and plumb his hole.

"You feel that,son? You feel your father deep inside of ya?" I grunted. He
didn't answer, and just made more sexy noises. "Yeah it feels good, doesn't
it? Getting drilled by your own father's hard cock." I answered for him.

I put my hand on his lower back and pushed down, raising his butt further
as I picked up my pace, eliciting more sounds of pleasure from his
throat. My son's fresh sperm was running down my chest and my abs, mingling
with my sweat as it made its way toward the root of my cock where I was
joined with his body. He was backing himself into my every thrust, slamming
his butt cheeks on my pevis. He felt so fucking good. But more than the
hot, smooth insides of his tight chute or the sweet torture his inner
muscles were inflicting on every nerve ending of my raging hardon, what was
really making my head spin and my heart pound was the thought that this
gorgeous, sweaty, muscled young hunk sprawled in front of me, impaled on my
big cock, was my own son. A few months ago I wouldn't have thought such a
thing possible.

His lusty moans were driving me wild, and I couldn't bear not being able to
see his handsome face. So once again I pulled myself out of his butt, and I
turned him over onto his back. I'll be damned if he wasn't fully hard
again. He was sporting a massive erection, as hard as I'd ever seen him. He
was already leaking plenty of clear juice. Ah, the vigour of youth. Before
I'd even finished drinking in the beautiful sight of him, he had already
raised his feet in the air on either side of my chest. He couldn't wait to
get his old man back inside him! Which was just as well, because at that
moment his old man couldn't stand not being inside of him.

Right away I was back where I belonged and picked up where I left off. "Oh
DadÉ", my hunk of a son sighed with relief. I was consumed by passion
and lust for him. "I'm going to fuck you so hard," I promised him. And this
father always kept his promises. He knew that.

I pushed my impossibly engorged organ over and over into my son's ass, his
tight sphincter keeping a firm grip on my thickness, yielding just enough
to welcome my every thrust. The whole time our eyes were locked onto each
other, never breaking the intense eye contact while I penetrated him
repeatedly. I saw a look of hunger and gratitude. I had him pinned down and
at my mercy. It would seem that in our bed, I was the one in control, the
one calling the shots. But the fact was that he was the one who had got us
here, who led the way, knowing that he wanted this when I couldn't even
comprehend that this was possible. He put one idea of possibility in my
head at a time, until, step by step, he took us to where we were, and now I
was fucking him as if I had always meant to.

If you had met us out in public, perhaps at a restaurant, or in the
supermarket, we would have looked just like any normal father and son going
about their business. You might remark that we seem to have a close,
healthy relationship, that we got along well. But you would never have
suspected that this was what we got up to with each other behind closed
doors. This frenzied coupling, our sweaty naked bodies mashed together,
merged into one. I could hardly believe it myself sometimes, sitting at a
restaurant across the table from this handsome jock with the sparkly eyes,
knowing I had just spent most of the day fucking his brains out, and
knowing that he was my sonÉ

While we fucked I started thinking about what we really were. Yes, we were
father and son. That was a fact that could never change. But was that all
we were? What else were we? Fuck buddies? Lovers? I knew we loved each
other. But as I looked at my son's handsome face and felt his body wrapped
around the core of my whole being, I knew that, not only did I love him,
not only did I lust after him, I had fallen in love with him. I was in love
with my own son. How and when did this happen? It certainly wasn't the case
when we started fooling around. Since I started fucking him, we had felt
closer and closer with every session, with every stroke. Spurred on by the
emotional intensity of our sex, somewhere along the line, I had developed a
new kind of love for him. I wondered how he felt about me. Sure, I knew he
loved me, as his father at least. And there's no mistaking how hot he was
for me. But in love? I could never bring myself to tell him. Not in words
anyway. Although I desperately wanted him to know how much he meant to
me. I could only hope that he could see it in my eyes, feel it in my
lovemaking. I buried my big erection deep into him, right down to the hilt,
grinding my pubes against his butt. "Oh DadÉ" he moaned, and raised his
face to mine, covering my mouth with his. His breath was fresh and
minty. Our tongues interwined. I thrusted as deep and hard as I could,
trying to communicate all that I was feeling.

"Uhhhhh Dad, you're the best!" Now, I was the only father and the only
lover he'd ever had, so I don't know who he was comparing me to, but I
appreciated the compliment anyway. The first time I fucked him, I hadn't
realised I was taking his cherry. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had
wondered. But I didn't ask and he didn't say anything. It was a couple of
weeks afterwards, one morning when we had started making love and I was
building up to a gentle rhythm, slowly pumping my pole in and out of
him. As usual his eyes were locked onto mine, when he said "Dad, I've got
to tell you something." Then he told me that I was his first. His first and
only. What a thing to be told while I was inside him! My heart melted. The
importance of what he told me did not escape me. I felt love, and pride,
and responsibility. Part of me was upset with him that he hadn't told me at
the time. I would have taken the care to make sure it was as special for
him as possible. But then I realised that I had done that anyway. Our first
time had been special and perfect. It couldn't have been any better.

"Yeah Dad, fuck me with your huge cock! Fuck me as hard as you can!" I was
really socking it to him now. I loved how he hungry he was for it. For
me. It was like he couldn't get enough of his Dad's cock. I knew just how
he felt. We were as close as we could be but I felt like we could never be
close enough. I raised his butt further and got on my knees, propping
myself up on the bed with my arms on either side of him as I drilled down
into him with my big shaft. My body was slick with sweat and my heart was
pumping 150 beats a minute. This was a bigger workout than the running. I
was fucking him like an wild animal. He always made me so hard and
horny. His insides felt amazing on my cock, but the best thing was watching
his reaction to my fuck. "Oh Dad, oh Dad!" It was like he knew it drove me
crazy to hear him call me Dad when I was inside him; or maybe it turned him
on to say it. He kept calling out to me over and over again as I drilled
him like a piston, his eyes glazing over. He was now almost whimpering. I
knew that voice and that look on his face, and I knew I was really hitting
the spot. "I'm right here baby," I managed to grunt a breathless reply
while I kept on slamming my meat into him. "Daddy's gotcha."

I never dreamt that I'd be having the best sex of my life at my age. And I
certainly never dreamt that I'd be having it with another man, least of all
with my own son. Fuck, I felt so good all over. It frightened me how
sexually compatible we were. And the incredible electricity our bodies
generated wasn't even half of it, amplified a thousandfold by the emotional
connection between us as we mated. Suddenly I felt his hands grab my butt
really tight, his fingers digging into my buns. At the same time the grip
of his inner muscles also tightened, clamping down on my pumping cock in
spasms. I looked down and saw that he was cumming again, shooting rope
after rope of white jizz from his big dick across his own chest and onto
his grimacing face. The sight of his orgasm and the squeeze on my cock set
off my own climax. My dick expanded, and I was powerless to stop the
torrent of cum that boiled up from my balls and flooded out of my shaft. I
grinded my pubes into his butt, going in as deep as possible. I roared as I
emptied my man juice into the beautiful young man's gut. "Fuck!É TakeÉ
your father's hot spunkÉ" I grunted something to that effect. I couldn't
believe some of the stuff that came out of my mouth sometimes in the heat
of the moment. I didn't realise, but my son told me that I made a lot of
noise whenever I came. What a tremendous release! It felt like an orgasm
that would never end. The glazed and blissful look on his face told me that
he enjoyed being at the receiving end of my seeds, being bred by his own
father, and I dutifully filled him up, pumping shot after shot of white hot
sperm deep into him until I was empty.

Eventually the spasms of our mutual ejaculation slowed, and I collapsed on
top of him, exhausted, sweaty, still inside him. We kissed. I could taste
his cum on his face. "You shot so muchÉ I'm full of your stuffÉ" he
murmured, sounding satisfied, grateful. He hugged me so tight. I looked at
him, and couldn't help but feel a bit proud of myself. This was the third
time I'd managed to fuck him into two orgasms with one erection. He had to
be impressed by that, I thought. He ran his fingers through my wet hair and
kissed me again, pulling my body tight against his own. There was nowhere
else I'd rather be.