fifty-one-and-one-3

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Big Tits

Subject: 51 And One – Part 3 My stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults. This story deals with relationships among male family members. If that fantasy bothers you, stop reading. If you like this story, check out my Patreon! Lots more content there: eon/jayspearstories The Nifty Archive has been a fantastic resource to all of us! Please consider supporting them with a donation: fty/. 51 And One – Part 3 By Jay Spear Sun was streaming through the windows while Dan and I faced each other at the breakfast table and tried to tamp down our grins. “Sleep well, Dad?” Dan asked with smirk. “Not at all, sport.” Sandra was up and puttering around the house, so we spoke in low tones as we downed coffee, ate our eggs and bacon, and shifted in our seats to hide the swelling in our crotches. “Dad, last night was–” “Such great conversation,” I finished. “Amazing,” he added. “I never thought we’d–I mean I’d always hoped–but damn, I’m glad to have you be so open to…a conversation like that.” “It never crossed my mind before, Dan but–” I stopped to listen for Sandra and heard the water running. She was taking a shower. Still, I kept my voice low, given what I was saying. “But now it’s all I can think about.” “Me too, Dad. You hard?” “Yeah, I am.” “Good. We’re the same.” We both grinned like idiots. “Dad, I loved watching you, watching you touch yourself as I told you all about that stuff–about Tim, the football team, and the coach. Seeing how excited it made you, seeing you touch your cock too…it was almost perfect.” “Almost.” “I wanna do more than watch you, Dad. I want to touch you too. I always have.” “Dan, isn’t this a line we shouldn’t–” “Why?” “People don’t do that. Isn’t it exploitative?” “You can’t exploit me if I’m the one wanting it. Asking you for you it. And I can see you want it too.” “That’s irrelevant. I’m your Dad.” “And I’m an adult. I can make my own choices. Why can’t I choose you? Why can’t we choose to do something together?” “Let’s just keep it like this,” I said. He sighed. “OK, Dad. But I’m going to explode from blue balls then. I can’t hang out with you now without getting hard.” At that moment I heard footsteps coming. When had the water shut off? I hadn’t heard it. “What are you boys talking about? So serious.” Sandra asked. “Nothing,” I replied. “Everything,” Dan said at the same time. I chuckled and we smiled at each other with our stupid grins. *** We tried to keep it cool over the next few days, but it was difficult. Every time we saw each other we’d break into these silly, lovestruck grins. We were flirting, I guess. Teasing each other. Dan would brush past me on his way to the dishwasher and cop a feel at my crotch to confirm that yes, I was still hard around him. I gave him a swat on the ass as he went out to mow the lawn. Given this flirtation and the building tension, we knew we had to avoid certain situations. I hadn’t gone down to my cigar den since our night together; instead I watched movies with Sandra in the evenings or we sat out on the porch together. Dan went out with friends, leaving me to wonder to where was off to and if some friend–or some other dad–was pawing the perfectly round ass I admired through his pajamas each morning. It was difficult, but we made choices to limit our alone time together, time that both knew would lead us to cross the line I’d said we should keep. But pressures build up against a dam and in time cracks always appear. The pressure can be intense and water always finds a way to flow. “Jesus, Dad. It’s so fucking hard being distant from you.” Light streamed through the kitchen windows. We were across the table from each other again. Breakfast, when the daylight was strong and Sandra was roaming the house while getting ready for work, seemed like the safest place for us to be together. “I’m so fucking hard,” he added. “I know, Dan. Me too.” He looked at me with puppy dog eyes and sighed. “How long are we gonna–” “Morning boys!” Sandra breezed through the kitchen to pour şişli travesti more coffee before she started her shower. The minute she left the room Dan pushed back his chair to reveal the tent pole in his pajamas. “All day long, Dad, I’m like this.” He pushed his pants down, letting his cock spring up. I hadn’t seen it for a week, not since our night together. He took it in one hand and slowly stroked it as he talked. “All day long I’m hard thinking back on that night we talked, and how much I want to keep talking with you, Dad.” I just watched as he stroked and talked. “Talk with me now, Dad. Let me see yours.” I hesitated. We couldn’t do this again. And not in the kitchen. Sandra– “Sandra’s in the shower now.” It’s true, the water was running. “We have a few minutes. Take it out, Dad. I want to see you again.” I pushed down my pants, with my cock springing up to attention. Dan’s eyes widened and he smiled. “Hot damn,” he said. “So good to see you like this. Touch it, Dad.” “Dan, that’s just going to bring us right back to–” “Then let me.” And before I knew what was happening, Dan was out of his chair and down on the floor, and taking me in his mouth. “Dan, you–” “Shhh…” he cut me off and resumed his work on my shaft. I gave in to it. His young, eager mouth was too good. Warm, wet, just the right amount of pressure. Eager, loving oral worship. His every move provoked my response, like a driver’s hand works a stick shift to make the car go exactly where he wants it. I was in Dan’s control now. I gave in to the sensations at my cock and ran my fingers through the curls in Dan’s hair, letting one hand drop to trace the delicate curve of his ear. Danny shivered but kept going. We had both given in now and we were determined to take this to its conclusion. I could feel the pressure building up inside of me; the dam was going to break. This time for real. This was not hot talk and jacking off. This was sex. Real sex. Together. I was going to cum in my son’s mouth. I grabbed his head with both hands and stifled a growl, a yelp, a whoop–all the sounds I wanted to make–as I finally, finally let myself be free to indulge in what Dan and I both wanted. A release for both of us. An embrace of new roles with each other. Dad and son were now lovers. We had no time to sit there and enjoy it, no freedom to embrace each other, for the shower had stopped and we heard Sandra shuffling around the house. She could be back in the kitchen at any moment. We quickly parted, tucked our cocks–mine spent, his ramrod straight and unsatisfied–back into our pants. We tried to catch our breaths. I hoped the red would fade from my skin. “Remember, my car’s in the shop today,” Sandra said as she reentered the kitchen. “I need you to drive me.” “Oh right. Give me 20 minutes. I need to wash up.” I looked forlornly at Dan. The last thing I wanted to do was wash. I wanted to leave his smell on me, to mix it with his sweat, his cum. But there was no opportunity for that now. I had work, Sandra, responsibilities. Dan would have to wait. “It’s OK, Dad.” Dan said. “We can catch up later.” I smiled at him. “You bet we will.” I showered and dressed for work. Dan was coming up the stairs as I headed down. We stopped to look at each other for a second and I pulled him to me. Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him. A long slow kiss, a deep kiss, our first beautiful kiss. I didn’t care that Sandra was still in the house, could come by and perhaps see us. We had unfinished business–so much unfinished business–and I was going to start some of it now. Start it by kissing my boy properly. By expressing the love and lust that now boiled up inside me whenever we were near each other. Eventually, I had to break it off, pull back from the embrace. As much as I hated it, it was time to go. Dan’s eyes stared back at me longingly. “Tonight,” I told him. And I left for work. *** Things progressed pretty quickly from there. We had gone from talking to touching ourselves. From touching ourselves to touching each other. And now that we were touching each other, I wanted beylikdüzü travesti it all the time. We were like horny teenagers and we fit in whatever we could. A sneaked kiss when Sandra left the room. My arm slung across the back of the couch when we watched a movie so I could surreptitiously stroke the back of his neck. Sneaking into the bathroom together for furtive, 3-minute blowjobs. But I had my den, too. Thank God for that den and the excuse of unwinding over cigars. It was a space Sandra didn’t go to, a space where Dan and I could be undisturbed for an hour or two. A space where there was enough time to explore each other in the ways we really wanted to. Down there we had the time to discover how much I enjoyed Dan playing with my nipples; or how his young fresh, ass could taste as sweet as pussy; or how much pent up energy the boy could have when I’d refuse to do anything more than cover his smooth, muscular body with kisses, letting my beard tickle his skin until he was begging me to stop and touch his dick, to get him off. We had explored so much of each other, yet we stopped short of the act of intercourse. We had come right to the edge of it and every time we pulled back. He’d straddle me, leaning down to press his chest against mine and kiss me, while my erect cock traced the enticing path along the crack of his butt cheeks. Or I’d flip him, pin him down, and he’d raise his legs up and to the side, presenting his hole to me, aligning it with my cock. I grabbed my dick and pulled it back, like coiling a spring, then let it fly where it smacked right up against his pucker, making him moan. I could tease him too. We both wanted it. And we knew it was just a matter of time. “Dads don’t do this,” I told him, looking down into his eyes. Beautiful Dan under me, on his back with legs up against my shoulders, as my spit-slicked cock pressed against his pink pucker. “I said push it in, Dad. I want this. We both do.” “Are you sure, Dan? This changes things. It has to.” “It can only change things for the better. I’ve wanted this so long. And now finally, in these past few weeks, you and I are connecting like I always dreamed. I want to keep dreaming, Dad. Dream with me. Feel it with me. Let yourself inside the dream. Let yourself inside of me.” “It hasn’t been that long for me, Dan. I’ve only looked at you this way, thought about any of this, very recently.” “But it’s all you can think about now, right?” He was right. “Yeah. It’s taken over my thoughts and it’s the only fucking thing I want right now. For tonight. For the rest of this summer. For I don’t know how long.” “Then do it, Dad. What’s stopping you? Please. Please fuck me. I’d love you to fuck me. I…love you.” I melted. “I love you too, son.” My resistance melted. I pushed in. It was inevitable. It was right. “That’s it, Dad,” Danny said as my cock split apart his ass cheeks and inch by inch I entered my boy’s tight, warm chute. “Let me feel you inside me. All the way.” All the way was a lot, but I knew he could take it. Certainly he had practiced–50 men!–but none of them had the rights and responsibilities to Dan that I did. Even so, the cock that had made him was taking him now. “Aw, yes, Dad. Yes. Just like that. That feels good. So fucking good.” And now I was completely inside him, balls deep, buried to the root. I lowered myself to him for a kiss and held myself inside, unmoving, while he adjusted to my size and I adjusted to the thought and feeling of being inside my only son. It felt amazing. “Dan, I–” “Shhhh…just this. Let’s do this. Only this. Until you cum inside me.” I tried to hush my thinking and just focus on my feelings. The feeling of love for my boy, the feeling of his warm, tight ass wrapped around my cock. The feeling in my cock that said “time to move,” time to stroke in and out, time to make my boy feel good. I don’t know how long we rutted. It felt like hours. Pushing, thrusting in–Dan rising up and moaning as he responded to each move. Our faces locked together more often than not. We loved the fucking but we needed to kiss too. istanbul travesti We both had known what it is like to fuck for pleasure or a thrill, but this was a fuck born of love. I tried to hold off as long as I could–I wanted this moment, our first fuck–to last forever. But Dan was making the cum rise up in me and it was time to let it out. To unload in him. In my boy. “I’m gonna come, Danny.” “Give it to me Dad! I want your load in me so bad. Do it! Gonna hold it inside me all day. Feel you there.” “I…I…aw, fuck, son. Here it comes,” I growled. “Daddy’s coming now.” “Aw, yeah, Dad! Fuck yeah! Feels so warm and good! Fill me up. Fill up your boy with that Daddy load.” I did. There was so much. So much in him now. What had he said before? “Bet you come like a fucking geyser”? I was absolutely doing that now. We collapsed together, my dick still inside him, plugging his hole and keeping my load in place. “Keep it there, Dad. I want to feel you inside me for as long as I can.” I kissed him deep and hard as I felt him erupt too. His cum spreading all over my chest. “As long as you want it, Dan. You have it for as long as you want it.” *** After that everything fell apart. How could it not? Because in another way, everything had come together. Dan and I couldn’t stay apart. We escaped to the basement every night, using the cigar den as the deterrent to Sandra checking in on us. That was our most relaxed and comfortable time together, when we could really explore. Otherwise, it was just stolen, quick moments–but we enjoyed too those too. Morning blowjobs in the kitchen pantry, handjobs in the laundry room, furtive make out sessions in the hallway until we heard Sandra’s footsteps approaching. Sandra. I was neglecting Sandra. And it was clear to her. “Do you even want me anymore?” she asked. “You’re spending no time with me these days.” “I’m just trying to spend some quality time with Dan before college.” “I get that,” she snapped. “And it’s reasonable. Up to a point. But if you disinvest from me, from us, where will you be in the fall? You’ll have a great relationship with your son, but a lonely fucking house here.” She was right. This was not fair to her. “I mean, you’ve barely touched me in the past month. No one should have such a cold bed.” She was right. This couldn’t work. It had to change. I paid for the movers myself. Gave Sandra a parting peck on the cheek as she sped off in her Honda. Dan and I had the remaining months of summer to ourselves. We cooked steaks and fired up cigars on the back patio. Cuddled together on the couch while we watched movies. Nestled our bodies together in my king bed every night. We were like newlyweds making the most of every vacation moment before having to go back to our regular lives. We knew it had an end. Dan would be going to college in the fall. I would miss him. I would miss him something awful. But it was time for him to fly the nest, get out, and meet life on his own terms. I was grateful for the time we had. The night before he left I made his favorite meal of pork chops and roasted potatoes, we split an amazing Syrah, and I wished him well. “You’ll have a great time at college, Dan. I’m excited for you.” “I’m excited too, Dad. But I’m really going to miss you. Miss this.” “Me too, buddy. But you’ll be so busy you won’t even have time to think about me.” “Ha! I really doubt that.” “But I hope you’ll think of me once in a while. Here. I got you a little something.” “Aw, thanks, Dad. Gee, I didn’t get you anything.” “Not necessary. Open it.” He tore the paper and pulled out the large college jersey with our last name and a big “51” that I had them add to the back. “Love the jersey, Dad. Great to start with some college swag already.” His eyebrows furrowed. “But 51? Which player–whose number is that?” I laughed. “It’s yours, Dan. When this summer started I was amazed at your 50 guys, and now that it’s the end of the summer and we’ve been…we’ve been together, it’s 51. I guess I’m your number 51.” Now it was Dan’s turn to laugh. “That’s fucking hilarious, Dad.” He chuckled again. “Hilarious, but wrong.” “Wrong?” “You’re not number 51. You’re my number one. You always will be.” “Shit, Dan. I–” “Shut up and kiss me.” I did. I knew he was serious. And if I was honest with myself, so was I. I felt just the same. END

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir

antep escort istanbul travestileri istanbul travestileri ankara travestileri tuzla escort kartal escort izmir partner kayseri escort escort mecidiyeköy mersin escort malatya escort bayan kayseri escort bayan eryaman escort bayan pendik escort bayan tuzla escort bayan kartal escort bayan kurtköy escort bayan ankara escort seks hikayeleri gaziantep escort etiler escort izmir escort esenyurt escort avcılar escort kocaeli escort kocaeli escort ankara escort ankara escort izmir escort escort izmir izmir escort keçiören escort konuşanlar izle mersin escort kızılay escort escort ankara hack forum eryaman escort escort demetevler escort ankara escort bayan almanbahis almanbahis almanbahis yeni giriş almanbahis yeni giriş almanbahis almanbahis yeni giriş isveçbahis isveçbahis giriş isveçbahis isveçbahis giriş isveçbahis giriş
bahis siteleri kaçak bahis bahis siteleri canlı bahis güvenilir bahis canlı bahis bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort