Date: Thu, 26 Jan 2017 12:12:19 +0000 (UTC)
From: a4f101@yahoo.com
Subject: Waiting Up

Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime. You
can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here:
http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/133347702699/

You can also find a whole lot more of my stories here on Nifty - look for
'a4f101' in the Prolific Authors listing.

This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2017. I
own it and all legal rights to it. If you're under the age of majority in
your jurisdiction, please come back when you're of legal age.

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*****

All day long, I'd been thinking of reasons to go home, and then reasons not
to. I lingered around on campus after classes, did some studying in the
library, went to the gym and pushed myself through a really hard workout,
and then I was sitting in my car with my hand on the keys in the ignition,
frozen in place. Looking at my phone to see if there was a message,
something to jar me into action one way or the other. But there wasn't. And
so I chickened out and went back to the library again, telling myself I was
getting ahead for finals, when really, all I was doing was staring at the
same lines in my Poli Sci textbook, and thinking of home. Thinking of
him. Thinking about last night, and how I'd crept out of bed real quietly
before dawn this morning, and snuck out of the house like a coward.

The house was quiet when I got home, the lights on in the kitchen,
otherwise dim and silent and still. My heart was thumping as I quietly
moved down the hallway, heading for my room, but the spill of light from
the master bedroom drew my eye, and there he was. Snoring softly, stretched
out, naked and big and hairy and fucking incredible-looking. I felt my
mouth go dry as I stood there, surveying his manly form. Torn again. Half
of me wanted to tiptoe into my room, close the door quietly, but I knew I'd
probably lie there awake half the night. Wishing I'd gone in, and crawled
on top of him, like I'd done last night, naked like him, with him, as his
hands and lips slid over my smoother skin, my younger muscles, as our
mouths came together and our tongues connected, as our cocks throbbed and
leaked and thrust together.

The other half of me wanted to step across the threshold and into his
bedroom, to relive that experience. I think that half of me was winning the
war, when he stirred, snorted, eyes blinking slowly open as he stretched,
all those big, fur-dusted muscles stretching and flexing enticingly. He
turned his head and saw me in the doorway, and smiled.

"Hey, buddy," he said, voice thick from dozing.

"Hey," I said, a catch in my voice, trying not to stare at his big body as
he pushed himself up into a sitting position against the pillows.

"Tried to wait up for you, but I guess the day caught up to me," he said
with a sheepish smile.

"You didn't have to do that," I said, all awkwardly.

"I wanted to," he said quietly. "I guess I was... well, hoping..."

"Yeah, about that," I said, my cheeks hot with an awkward blush. And then I
didn't know where to go from there.

Dad seemed to pick up on my conflict, starting to blush a little
himself. He took one of the pillows and pulled it across his lap, covering
the thick tube of his big cock, resting easily across his hip. He looked
awkward, embarrassed, a little disappointed - in me, in himself, maybe
both. I wasn't used to seeing the big guy look that way, he was usually so
confident, so self-assured. He'd sure been that way last night, when he'd
pulled me into his arms and kissed me in the kitchen, and I'd been glad for
it at the time. Glad he knew how to lead the way, lead me in here, lead me
to his bed and the incredible, intense dance we'd done.

"Uh, yeah, well," he muttered, looking on the floor for his gym shorts,
puddled there where he'd dropped them, when he'd decided to wait up for me,
hopeful I'd come home to him and we could be close again.

Hopeful like I'd been. But I was such a fucking coward. That was unlike me
too, because I was every bit as self-assured and confident as he was,
usually - every bit my father's son. Looks, build, attitude, all of it.

"Did you eat?" he said, looking anywhere but at me as he swung his legs
over the side of the bed, picking up his shorts, moving to put them
on. "Let me get dressed, and I can fix you a sandwich -"

"No!" I blurted, startling us both. I slipped my bag off my shoulder, set
it down against the doorway.

"Don't get dressed," I said, blushing even harder. "I'm sorry. I'm an
asshole. I wanted to come home sooner... wanted to... shit..."

"Hey, it's OK, big guy," he said soothingly, putting his hands up.

"No, it's not," I said, and I was moving into his room, tugging my T-shirt
up and off, thumbing my shorts open and pushing them down my legs, stepping
out of them as I closed the distance between us.

"You were so good to me last night," I said, as I got close to him. His
hands were still outstretched, like he didn't know what he should do with
them. I took them, squeezed them in mine, and brought them to my hips as
our eyes met.

"So damn good," I went on. "Everything I wanted. Or most of it. And I
wanted more. Want more, so bad. All I could think about, all day. You, and
me. Us. This."

Then I leaned in, cupped his rugged, stubbly jaw and tilted it up, and
kissed him. His lips stayed tight against mine for a second, and then he
grunted and parted them, moved them against mine, and it was almost an
exact replay of our first kiss, last night, as we fell into it.

"Ah buddy, c'mere," he murmured, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of my
boxer briefs and tugging them down, letting my rapidly stiffening young
cock swing out in the space between us before he cupped my ass and brought
me down to straddle his lap. I folded my arms round his thick neck, feeling
his big cock growing against mine as our mouths came together, breath
mingling as our tongues touched, then traced, and finally started to dance.

Dad's arms were thick with coiled muscle, shifting and flexing as he
squeezed them around my lats, and I found myself wrapping my big young
thighs round his waist, pulling myself into him as tightly as I
could. Finding comfort there, and pleasure too, like I always had, in some
way, only so much deeper now. Last night had just barely scratched the
surface of things I'd been thinking about since I was a kid, since I'd
grown hair on my balls, since those balls had started churning out young
cum with intense, juvenile fantasies about him. Now the surface was flayed
open, the hot core of my needs throbbing and vulnerable, on show for
him. For my Dad. Not my first man, but the only one I'd ever really
wanted. The alpha and the omega, for me.

I guess I hadn't thought maybe he'd been feeling the same way, even with
all the quiet things we'd murmured to each other in the afterglow last
night, before sleep pulled us under. For some reason, I didn't think he'd
feel as intensely about this and us and me, even with the way he came three
times last night, matching me load for load, until he'd laughed and panted
that his balls were rattling, they were so drained. But they were
apparently recharged, and so was he, and the way he bundled me up in his
arms and moved me up onto the bed and on my back, like I wasn't pushing
nearly 180 pounds of young college-boy beef, I was seeing his passionate
intensity now, the way he really felt about these deeply taboo things we
were doing, that we shared.

I wrapped my arms and legs back around his big, furry-muscled form as he
slid up over me, kissing me intently, wetly, and reached down to cup and
squeeze the big, steely muscles of his ex-football player ass as they
thrust and clenched against me. We were both leaking like crazy, our cocks
slick and sticky as they ground together. We'd fucked each other off that
way twice last night, our third loads disappearing down each other's
throats in a deep, hungry 69. I'd loved that, loved the way our eyes
connected as our bodies writhed and thrust and shot together, but I wanted
more than that. Had to have it, with him.

"I love you, Dad," I moaned. "Love what we did. Want more of it."

"Yeah, buddy?" he panted, thrusting slower against me, kissing my chin,
jaw, lips again. "I do too. How much more you want, big guy?"

"All of it," I grinned, squeezing his ass deeply again. "All of you. We
started this. Might as well do it all, yeah?"

"Oh fuck yeah," he grinned. "That's my boy. So glad you want it too, son."

I'd been eaten out before, but not like this. Not with a tongue as long and
skilled as Dad's, and I was glad I'd showered up thoroughly at the campus
gym after my workout. Glad I was clean for him, as he made my toes curl and
my eyes roll and my hands clutch at the sheets, as he bent me over the bed,
kneeling behind me on the rug, and slow-fucked my ass with his big, wet
tongue.

Even though the idea of him taking my cherry made my cock throb, and had
done for years, well, the fact was, he hadn't, and I was kind of glad for
that too, because he was big. Real big. Big, and thick, and even with all
his spit and the double-layer of lube he lovingly applied to my eager,
twitching hole, it took some real work to get him up inside of me. Lots of
skillful attention from him, his hands rubbing my pecs, his bristly lips
nuzzling my shoulder and my neck, my ears, the spot right below my hairline
that made me shiver and moan and open up for him.

"You're so fucking good, baby boy," he moaned in my ear, and I could have
come right then and there. But I held it inside me, as I let him in deep,
until his big, furry chest was pressed to the muscles of my back, his hips
up tight against the muscular globes of my ass.

"Fuck me, Daddy," I moaned, my voice hitching, and he groaned deep in reply
and set to work.

His lips. His hands. His fingers. His tongue. His arms. And most of all,
his cock. Jesus christ, his cock, sawing in and out of me, prying me
slowly, steadily open, then filling me up. Teasing me with it, fucking me
right to the brink, then holding still when he sensed me riding the edge,
letting me come back to him a little, before he drove me right back to the
precipice again.

"We were made for this," I thought to myself, and moaned, and then like he
was reading my mind, he wrapped his big ex-ballplayer paw round the big,
jutting tower of my cock, and pressed a slow, wet kiss to the sweaty skin
behind my ear.

"I love you so much, baby boy," he murmured, tilting my head back to kiss
my panting lips, and I was done for.

I moaned into his mouth, my balls throbbing and churning, and then firing,
hard spurting jets of my cum painting his sheets as he fucked and stroked
me off. He was right behind me, growling and thrusting even harder,
battering my buzzing prostate with a series of deep, hard thrusts, before
his hips slammed into mine and locked in place. I wished I could feel him
spurting, breeding me, but hell - I was already overwhelmed with sensation,
physical and mental. It was already more than enough.

We didn't have much to say in the afterglow, just shared hazy, sweaty
grins, kissing as he moved us up to spoon, his cock slowly softening inside
of me. There was plenty to be said, I guess, but that was for later. We
were saying everything with our bodies, our lips, our cocks, our embrace
right now. I thought about all we could have been doing all evening, if I'd
just manned up and come home like I'd wanted to so badly - but things were
perfect just the way they were.

"You said you wanted it all, big guy," Dad finally murmured, one hand
rubbing my slick abs, the other up and down the thick muscle of my thigh. I
smiled, nodded.

"I think you just gave it to me, Dad," I grinned, pecking his lips.

He smiled back, taking my hand and pulling it back to cup the big, hard
muscle of his furry ass.

"I meant all of it, son," he grinned, kissing me a little deeper, chuckling
into my mouth as his hand brushed my cock, which was starting to firm up
again at what he was implying.

"Maybe next time, come home a little earlier," he chuckled as I rolled over
in his arms, wrapping mine around him and squeezing that big, muscular ass
of his as I kissed him some more.

"Don't worry, Dad," I murmured against his lips. "Trust me, there's no
place I'd rather be."