Date: Thu, 10 Jul 2008 00:11:38 -0400
From: joeyinnodoubtland@gmail.com
Subject: "An Unconventional Bedtime Story: Part One" - Gay Male, Incest.

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction.  If you are under the legal
age of eighteen or if stories of gay sex do not appeal to you, please leave
imminently.


An Unconventional Bedtime Story

`A tale of two lovers doomed to scorned persecution'

As authored under the alias of "BluntJoey".


Part I -- Heartbeat


		I now dare you to allow me, "Johnny Feelgood", which I'll
call myself, to enchant, dazzle, and enthrall your senses with a monologue
of my tale in its absolute validity, for my disposition remains immaculate
and void of shame or guilt to provoke any alteration.  Let it be understood
that any and every boundary is at a disregard at genesis, for my tale
scorns the respected traditions, conventions, moral convictions, any and
every trace of the morals in which society has been permanently marked upon
so powerfully and securely by its dominating religions.  It is what it is
-- Nothing more, nothing less.
	It is my tale -- And his.
	I had a great life: I was sixteen, a varsity football player at the
best high school team in the county, introverted but offered only absolute
kindness to all, which was partly why my father and I were well respected
throughout our community.  Of course, it was mainly Dad: he was a single
father from the time I was six months old when my addict of a mother walked
out, and yet he made it to every one of my games, to every PTA meeting, all
while he managed to maintain his prominent insurance company and coached my
team, triumph to triumph, notably.  And we were viewed in admiration by so
many because we were not victims of the distance of the drought-like, "teen
years", in which we felt was a dilemma for the weak.  We were men of strong
character, rewarded with our perfectly tight, close relationship. Its
beauty's tangibility limited itself only to us, no one else could
understand.  I suppose it would seem like a blessing to most to merely
witness such a situation -- wretchedly doomed by a monster of a mother; now
the model relationship.  What a beautiful concept.
	That's what it was, honestly, beautiful -- In more ways than they
will ever know.
	From football to the Star Wars films, I was without question my
Father's son.  Maybe it was an assisting asset that we shared the
astrological sign of Pisces (the true intellectuals, and in our benefit,
intellectual equals at that), for we had shared a most interesting exchange
of words by that time, from stems cells to abortion to politics, and
unbelievable to most, my Father and I spoke about sex, and not out of a
parental duty to educate.  In fact, it was one of our favorite topics once
I began having sex in the midst of my sophomore year.
	We spoke excitedly about this wonderful act, which most parents
wouldn't ever as it was like a taboo to them. He didn't, though, not Dad,
he encouraged a "good time", so to speak, on the unbreakable premise that I
practiced safely always.  We exchanged our most intimate stories
shamelessly without any awkwardness, challenging each other to see who, as
he had remarked when this begun, "was getting it the best."  This was one
of many aspects of the intimate, unbreakable trust in our relationship,
never was it thought of to tell anyone about any of it. It was ours,
special; no one else was worthy of knowing.  To put it bluntly, I was a
hell of a lot closer to my Dad than to any of my best pals on the team, who
were my actual age -- And I damn well loved it that way.  My Dad was
everything to me, and vice versa.
	And so perhaps it wasn't (or shouldn't have been anyway),
surprising when an unconscious dilemma, hidden inside for years, struck
viciously like lightning on me, and consequently changed everything in my
world.  It confronted with such powerful potency, it being unavoidable,
unchangeable in its inevitability, for it had been buried in the hiding
spaces of my mind.
	I was different.  Not subtlety, not in some minor "tongue-in-cheek"
way or in some strange routine of mine, but in such a way that alienated me
crucially in what was most important to me. I must have been the largest
receiver of luck in the universe, but this was different.  This never went
away, never could of, no matter how much easier it would be if it did.  It
was like trying to obliterate oxygen in the atmosphere -- You couldn't defy
nature.  I, Johnny Feelgood, had a secret.
	My attraction was drawn towards many, most in which were quite
appealing.  And my natural attraction was broad, offering me a variety of
eclectic choices in which I could employ an assignation with.  I wasn't
superficially limited.  It would seem that I would find myself the perfect
wife easily, and I being so prudently wise and intelligent, perhaps a vow
of forever would be upon me in my youth even.  But before suggesting any
such notion, the basis, the essence of my attraction must be acknowledged
-- That pivotally and primarily, my attraction was for the creatures my
heart was helpless to deny itself of.
	I yearned for men.
	And believe me, that single sentence in all its simplicity echoed
in my mind with unbelievable meaning surrounding it immensely the night of
February fourteenth, the date so peculiarly ironic.  There I sat on the
couch at midnight, trying to catch some soft core porn on the cable's movie
channels, when Dad came out of his bedroom and into the hallway, which was
directly next to the entertainment system -- And directly in front of me.
	And he wore nothing.
	There he was in his angelic perfection: six feet two, beautiful,
neck-length, straight blond curls, prominent blue eyes so deep, perfect
straight nose, uniformly large muscles that I for so long had to ignore in
the locker room to prevent a gigantic hard-on.  And now I was gifted with
his nakedness: his hairy blonde chest (which seemed to look better now
somehow than on the infinite times he had seen it before) ... And a
gigantic erection that took my focus away from all else; I forgot my own
existence.
	His pubic hair was too hairy, his blonde, manly pubes, but there it
was, Dad's nine inch, cut dick, hard as could be, sticking out and wiggling
just slightly.

	Here there is happiness.
	Here there is a paradise.
	Here there is the bliss mortals yearn for fruitlessly.
	Here is my castle, my sanctuary, my refugee...
	Here is my home.

	A few moments passed, and like having the wind knocked out of me,
zealously brutal, reality sharply retrieved its lost prisoner, lashing back
the pain.  Dad let out a shocked sigh, and began a quite haste run for
their bathroom, his visage clearly stating he was frightened he had upset,
violated, done something terrible; it was this that sparked such a bold,
courageous move.
	"No, Dad, it's okay! Do you know how many times I've walked out of
my room naked and hard?" I said, speaking more in character than ever as I
perfectly mimicked laughter full of mirth with the appropriate body
language. "What were you doing?"
	Dad was paralyzed, either by humiliation, shock, or relief, I'll
never know -- I never asked.  But he laughed back, and actually leaned his
body against the hall wall, rested his elbow against it adjacent to his
head, and laughed.  Coincidentally, it was now that the TV show I was
watching finally showed a pretty revealing love scene: a big black guy was
screwing a white chick from behind, he beckoning her on as she moaned
extremely loud.  But for perhaps the very first time in the history of
mankind, I was very happy this occurred -- Now this would bring even more
relaxation.
	And now I was hard -- I was just wearing boxer briefs, and I had
thrown the blanket off, having been momentarily shaken at Dad's sudden
burst in.  I wasn't quite nine inches, but I was a clone to my father in my
appearance almost -- Tall, blonde, and even the same deep blue eyes -- But
I was lanky, and while his nose was meticulously straight and perfect, mine
was slightly smaller and rounder.  Our dicks definitely were almost the
same, except I was uncut, though with the ragingly gigantic hard in front
of us, you couldn't tell.  My dick was sticking out and stretching my boxer
briefs, they felt like they were going to break, but instead the head of it
poked out.
	Oh my God.
 "Well, actually, I was coming out to watch some porn on TV," said his Dad,
laughing. "But look at you! You had the same idea.  But son, this is
definitely not our taste!"
	Our, I liked that.
	"Well that's all that's on cable," I said, laughingly agreeing.
	"Fuck that," he said, walked over, still totally hard and jumped
down next to me.  He looked down at my dick poking out, laughed, and
actually flicked it. "Let's have some fun, hell; we definitely had the same
thing in mind. Give me the control."
	I eagerly threw off my boxer briefs, and as I passed him the
control on the table, he actually put his arm around my shoulder for a
moment, and then lowered his hand and patted my back.  I smiled
sheepishly. "Aw, Dad."
	"Am I making you uncomfortable?" my Dad then said prudently.
	"No! Not at all! Do you know how long ago I would have wanted to do
this?" I hastily responded, perhaps with too much indignation.
	My Dad chuckled.  And he knew how I felt.  And my Father, "Tommy
Feelgood", wrapped his hand lightly on the head of my dick.  I was dying of
exasperation, there was too much pleasure, the mere concept of such a
circumstance mere hours ago would have been surreally intangible ...
	He saw the bliss on my face and lowered his hand and wrapped it
around my dick gently.  And he looked me in the eyes and vice versa ... We
were quite close, mind you.  And I initiated the consecutive, of course,
only to reassure him I was not uncomfortable, of course for this only ...
	I leaned in.  One moment I was just looking into my Dad's eyes and
the next we were making out furiously. We were all over the couch in heated
passion light years beyond any mortal way; we were gods in that instant.
He was stroking my penis vigorously and I his, instantaneously grabbing his
in absolute vehemence.  We were so adamantly driven as I rushed my hand all
over his chest, as I felt his caress on every inch of my body, at every
moment ...
	My original secret was now so secondary I was shocked I hadn't
realized this: My ultimate secret was my need for Father's love -- In every
way thinkable.
	But then before we could progress this, in the midst of such
aggression that was almost violent, a cathartic release of long buried,
unspeakable desires.  It was as though they were attempting to make it
possible to achieve in the impossibility of making up for every moment,
hour, day, year of the deprival of the need they now fulfilled, a need
stronger than that of a freebaser's, we had been dying slowly ...
	I was on the blissful dimension again, no, not at all, this one was
infinitely much greater, reality once again gone.


	Here there is the true magic.
	Here what you see is what you get.
	Here there are no riddles.
	Here there are only the desires in which you choose to employ.
	Here there are dragons.
	Here there are mystical, unknown creatures.
	Here the landscape is beautiful: it is sunset in this paradise.
	Here, I see God.

	Simultaneously, and with or without the application of login within
my mind, without coincidence, in a pre-destined moment of nirvana, we, the
two deepest, purest, strongest, most sincere lovers ... came together, our
seeds erupting from inside of us, pouring all over both us, on the couch,
on the floor, on our faces ... a memorabilia, so to speak, of our first
true assignation.
	The dimension in which reality rested now returned, but not
painfully; I sighed deeply, opening my eyes, in total satisfaction.
	Here it began.