Date: Wed, 24 Mar 2004 21:50:26 -0500
From: A. Cheshire Cat <kierkegaard_is_cool@hotmail.com>
Subject: Shut Up Mom's Sleeping

Fans might be interested to know there's another story of mine in the
Gay/Encounters section (The Seduction of Mr. X), as well as one in the
Bi/Adult-Friends section (Pissing on Memory Lane). There'll be another one
along shortly.

Shut Up, Mom's Sleeping
By: A. Cheshire Catt
Email comments to kierkegaard_is_cool@hotmail.com

It was hot out, dark too, and the light at the kitchen table was bringing
moths from miles away, june bugs and little flies: banging into the glass,
the outside tried to get in. I was winning at a stupid game of Crazy-Eights
Countdown against my father. He and I were so drunk we could barely hold our
heads up. It wasn't often that we drank with each other. I was afraid of
being initiated into that terribly awkward conversation of being too
effeminate, and he was probably too bored of hanging out with someone so
comparatively opposite to his usual chums. We didn't do this sort of thing
basically.

Being young and drunk, I was definitely horny that night. It was late. If
I'd stayed at my place in the city that weekend I would have been at the
bath at that moment fucking two or three men at once. The moment that
thought entered my mind I couldn't even think about the Queen of Spades and
her court anymore. In my pants my cock grew, harder and harder, pushing at
the soft cotton of my shorts. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't stand, my
Dad, I thought, would roll his eyes. The more I tried to get rid of the
thoughts the more I couldn't stop thinking about it. I could almost feel
darkened, heated hands of strangers all over my body, wet lips wrapping
around my young meat, sucking, mm, sucking at the throbbing sexuality.

It was almost as if he could smell it, that's the way it seemed, as if he
suddenly detected the scent of my musk. The card game dwindled, there was
nothing else to do about it. I blushed and he stared at his hands. I was
nearly trembling as the game halted. Why wasn't he playing his turn? He knew
everything. He knew what I was thinking.

"I have to go to the washroom," I almost yelled as I stood.

"Shut up, your mother's sleeping," he said.

She was too tired earlier on and had gone upstairs to bed, passed out, out
like a light as they say. I apologized, but in my hesitation I had turned
and my boner was tenting my shorts. See, it was so hot that night that we
weren't wearing anything else but shorts. It was fucking hot out. It was so
hot that it was hot in the house. He saw my secret bulging and wobbling and
straining. He shot his eyes at mine and I felt so afraid.

He curled his finger signaling for me to come closer. As I went up to him he
slid his chair out and grabbed the waistband of my shorts. I didn't know
what to think.

One always obeys their father.

"Let's see what's going on here."

"No dad, let's just go to bed."

"Are you telling me no?" This made him mad, and here I'd thought it was the
erection that got him mad. I didn't think it was right though. I was so
tempted, the blood was whirling about in my body and I thought I was going
to vomit I was so dizzied.

"Let's go to bed."

"Let's just keep our mouth shut son."

He finally pulled the shorts over the pole and revealed my cock, it sprung
up into his face. He grabbed it in his rough hands and stroked it. I melted
instantly. I put my hand on his stroker, and attempted to remove it while at
the same time being completely unable to resist.

"Ain't you a bit young to have a cock this big."

"Sure, I guess, but I hear it's genetic."

We both looked at each other, I think I just asked to see his cock.

Drunkenly he fought with his short and revealed his. It was massive, and as
it was so hard it was enflamed and oozing a little juice already. "Why don't
you touch mine too?"

I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone was coming.

"She's out son, come on, just touch it a little."

"I don't know Dad."

"I'm touching yours."

He was begging me, bargaining with me came next.

"I'll suck you even if you touch me."

I was so horny. The heat was making me cave to his cool offerings. But it
was so wrong. All my friends would cringe, this would be the only sex story
I could never tell them. This is illegal I thought. I am breaking the law.
Then I thought about it for a second and realized he'd be the one. I thought
then that I had nothing to lose.

I bent over a little and ran my fingers along it. His eyes rolled up into
his head.

"Suck it now."

He smiled at me and pulled me in close.

In a vacuum of rum-stained breath he enveloped my oozing boyhood. I touched
the top of his head. Back and forth, or up and down, he pumped my little
cock mightily. As he did this he let my shorts fall to the floor and I was
standing there naked.

When he let himself off me he gasped for air.

"Now suck mine," he said and sat back. "And then I'm going to fuck that
tight little ass of yours son."

"You can't do that?"

He stood up then, wobbling a bit, but definitely towering over me. He said,
"I can do whatever the fuck I damn well please, don't talk back to your
father son, now get down and suck for father's cock and tell me you fucking
love it: do it!"

I got down on my knees and stock my mouth around his big meat. I actually
had to stretch my lips around it. It was so hard to suck on him with it
being as huge as it was. My mouth was too small. He pushed it in but it
wasn't really fitting in. I used my hands to stroke him -- I figured he was
at that age that he'd just blow his load super quick and there wouldn't be
any fucking involved with a cock like this, not tonight, and not ever.

Soon he pushed me off his cock and told me to lean over the back of the
chair.

"Dad you're too big, I won't be able to."

"Shut up son, and don't make a noise, your mother could wake up and you'd
have a lot of explaining to do."

That statement didn't make any sense, but he was working a guilt on me that
he had the power to because he was my father. I couldn't do anything but
submit. I felt him rubbing a spit-lacquered finger against my hole. I felt
him swivel it in. Then I heard him pull up a huge hork and throw it on my
perked hole. I felt his snot running down my pink balls and actually loved
it. He roughly pulled it up with his fingers and poked it in my ass. Then he
grabbed one of the nearly empty beers I'd had on the table and poured it on
his cock. He punched that beer-soaked cock of his against that snotty hole
of mine and I knew I'd be in pain. He shoved and I did everything to shut
off my brain, to stop my muscles from tensing. He pushed and I was molested
right there at the kitchen table.

Further and further he went into me and eventually it reached a point where
I thought I would either burst in two or I'd cry out loudly for him to fuck
me. I want something to happen down there. In the heat of that night, that
moment, I whispered to him, "Mm, Daddy, fuck me now, fuck me hard."

"Oh yah son, I'm gonna fuck that ass of yours so bad you won't be able to
sit for a week."

You know what, that's what he did. He started to fuck me until it seemed the
whole house was rocking with each thrust. I gasped a couple of times which
resulted in him putting his rough hand over my mouth and preventing anymore
noise from coming out. He pushed harder and harder. I was cumming just
standing there. It was running down my leg and onto the floor. It felt so
good, the steamy boy juice dripping down my hot hairless leg in torrent
after torrent, and I wasn't even touching myself. I was gripping the chair
and clawing at it.

He pulled out and shot cum up my back and then rubbed it in.

"Go to bed faggot." He said.

"Yes Daddy."

It became a regular thing whether I was wanting it or not.