Vice Ch. 03

His words are so hot and I'm noticing that the more aroused I get the more my ass eases up on the pulsing death-grip it has on his cock. My brain ticks out the things I've been too preoccupied to notice. Things like the weight and heat of him covering me, the musky stink of his pits and mine, the way his heart is racing behind the heavy pecs plastered to my back and how he's breathing so hard. He moves some and his cock shifts, drawing a gasp from me. Not a gasp of pain because it feels different; painful but not.

Before I can explain it to myself he actually pulls back a tiny bit and instantly shoves back in, planting his cock deep again. The strange not-pain feeling is even more intense and I move restlessly against him. There's something there, in that feeling, that I need – have – to understand like I'm on the verge of something.

"Da-a-a-ad," I whine and moan. I need him to move and give me something I can't articulate. "Please," I gasp. He chuckles and I feel the sound transfer from deep in his chest to mine.

"You're almost ready," he husks out in an amused rasp.

"Yeah," I tell him, not sure if I'm agreeing or if it's a question.

"Gonna fuck this sweet son-ass." I want to laugh at all the S's in that statement but I'm too busy trying to get him to move. "Now you want this?" he asks, again with that rumbling chuckle and an abbreviated thrust. I whimper like a fucking puppy. Not that I care, it's still my dad on top of me. However I seem or act, looking tough in front of my father while he takes my cherry is at the bottom of my list of worries.

I'd known my ass was sensitive but, shit, it's like my whole brain is focused on the long, wide path Dad's carved into my body. I swear the head's nudging against my ribs. It doesn't hurt so much as it's just fucking overwhelming. I'm only half-hard but I feel like I might cum at any second. That pressure inside is thrilling and each short slide feels kinda' like a stroke on my hard cock feels, sort of. I can't quantify it, those alien sensations, as Dad starts a gentle glide of short strokes with his hips.

"Dad, Dad," I'm panting and grunting. Every fifth or sixth stroke he pulls back a little more then pushes home. It's a slow buildup to full on longdicking me. He's raised up at some point and released my shoulders so only his chest is still on me and his forearms are digging into the mattress either side of me. I roll my hips and he's sinking deeper but it brings the belly of his cock into alignment with my prostate. It's fucking heaven, that monster skating over my joy-spot combined with the deep penetration and the friction on my asslips.

My father is muttering and cursing. I think he's praising me. I know I hear him say clearly, "Take my cock, boy." I don't know when or how but I realize my body has gone from actively fighting the invasion to welcoming it. My ass is practically sucking him in as he pulls out then squeezing to keep him in. I want to tell him to never stop. I'm ready to beg for more but he kicks it up a notch like he knows what I need.

He's pounding into me, his strokes going from a smooth glide to a serious ramming. The sound of our bodies slapping together is louder than the rough curses Dad's expelling with each breathe. It's killing me. I feel like if I don't cum I'm truly going to explode.

He wraps one big hand around my throat, his thumb on my jaw. He tilts my head back and turns it so he can force his thick tongue between my lips. The move trips some inner trigger and I'm cumming all over the sheets and my stomach, backsplash ricocheting around with each hard shot of cum. My ass locks down but my dad doesn't let it stop his hammering cock and it makes each sensation of his thrusting cock more concentrated.

It seems like the longest orgasm of my life, stretched out to minutes instead of seconds, while I howl into my dad's voracious mouth. Just as I feel my balls emptying out he rips his mouth away with a roar. He releases my throat and pushes off the bed onto his knees. My father latches on to my hips and drags them higher as he pounds into me. I feel his cock swell and the next dozen strokes are so brutally hard and deep that they make the ones before seem gentle.

My cock spits out a few last dribbles as I feel the hard shots of his seed splash against my tender insides. The wet heat gushes out around his cock when I can't contain it all. I feel it run down my thighs and the back of my drawn-tight ballsac. His body shudders hard a few times as he finishes dropping his load into my ass.

In the aftermath he lowers my hips down to the bed and his long cock slowly snakes its way out of my sore ass. It hurts a little as the heads pops free and I moan at the loss. I feel bruised inside and out. Dad falls onto his side and reaches out to pull me into him, makes me the little spoon. His bottom arm goes under my head and wraps around my chest as he uses the other hand to rub my load into the skin of my stomach. We lay there, catching our breath until I'm almost asleep.

"Promise this won't fuck with your head?" He sounds serious.

"Only if it's not going to happen again," I tell him after a second. I'm not really joking and I think he knows it but I don't feel like getting into some shitty, deep discussion over the whole thing. Besides, it's been a really long day and I just want to sleep. So I do.

I'd promised not to let it fuck with my head but I'd woken up the next morning, no longer a virgin, and crawled out of Dad's bed, purposefully quiet not to wake him, to get ready for school. I'll admit I was anxious about what we'd done together, more about what Dad might've been thinking. I shouldn't have worried. Dad had been waiting for me in the living room. He didn't say a word, just took my duffle in one hand and lifted off my backpack with the other. He bent me over the couch, brandishing the lube, and tugged down my favorite jeans. "I'll write you a tardy note," he promised before pushing in. I got to school fifteen minutes late with my note in hand and a slimy asscrack.

Thing is, having sex with him had never fucked with my head. It wasn't until that strange kiss that morning when I really started thinking about things. From that first time everything had been perfect, just the way I always thought it would be. Dad was always aggressive and forceful. He liked having sex in risky places and just coming right up to the limit of what I could stand to take from him. But I never doubted he loved me as his kid.

And the sex was fucking incredible. Dad could say or do stuff I never would've guessed could turn me on so much. That first time had hurt and it always hurt when he nailed my ass but sometimes he could get me so hot just by fingering me, playing with my cock or talking dirty to me that I'd be begging him to just fucking put it in me.

Then came The Kiss and I avoided him for a few days. I wanted to talk so I came over after judo on Tuesday to wait until he got off work. Only Uncle Paul was there lugging a heavy box up to Dad's porch and I vaguely remember he'd borrowed some tools or something that night I'd heard them talk about Bucky's. I opened the garage for him and we started talking.

Uncle Paul was looking at me. It was a look I'd seen before but hadn't recognized until after my dad showed me what it meant. I got him into the living room with a drink and I was really seeing Uncle Paul for the first time. He's a hot guy; same age as Dad but shorter and lanky. It was so easy to reach over and grope him, get on my knees between his legs. His cock was easier to suck, not nearly as big as Dad's. His ass was right there hanging over the edge of the sofa cushion.

I could tell he wanted to stop me when I rolled on the condom, it took me a minute 'cause it was the first time I'd used one, but he didn't. It was probably clumsy on my part and painful for him, still he never made a move to stop me. His ass was so tight and I loved it. I fucked him hard and watching him react to each stab of my cock was almost as sweet as his hot hole.

Uncle Paul came first and as soon as I was done he took off. I wanted to reassure him about whatever was freaking him out but he didn't wait to listen. Then I was left alone and for the first time I really thought about why it was always Dad fucking me, even in my fantasies. He never put his lips on or near my cock either.

Dad came home sometime in the night and Wednesday morning it was like nothing had changed but even when he was fucking my ass to mush, and I loved it, I was thinking about what it would be like to fuck him. I honestly hadn't really noticed the condom with Uncle Paul but how would it feel without it? If he had rights to bareback me then for sure I'd have the same? I cringed at the idea of telling my father he had a "hungry cunt" while I dicked him or any of the other wild things he told me that turned me on without knowing why they did. How could something like that make me burn with shame and lust but I couldn't ever imagine myself saying it?

I was still obsessing over all this after we'd both cum. Dad's cum was running out of my ass which was sore after going a few days without then getting plowed hard. I'd called into school so we could talk about shit but I was starting to wonder if I had the guts for a whole different kind of conversation. He was stretched out on his belly watching me with this smug smile on his mouth. I followed the slope of his back down to where his ass swelled up, thick and furry.

"Why'd you call out of school again?" he asked me in a sleepy voice.

"We need to talk," I said and paused to gather up some courage. "I fucked Uncle Paul last night," I told him, just letting it slip out. He was quiet for a long time and we just stared at one another. It hit me then, he might be my dad but he's still a guy. It's no different than facing down a bigger guy on the field, not that there'd been many of those in the last two years but still.

"Yeah?" he finally asks. There was a strange electricity buzzing in me then, right under my skin and in my balls. Arousal and something like power, maybe.

"I liked it," I told him. I could feel my cock getting hard and it felt fucking heavy.