Eye to Eye, Eye for an Eye

A little short story, kinda out there, kinda incest-y. If it's not your thing please click away. All characters are +18. Let me know if you want a continuation!

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"Run.me3.a bath baby6" a text message read. From Dad. Sent at 2:14 AM. Saturday.

The list of things I didn't like about my dad was endless, but this text managed to perfectly encompass my biggest pet peeves: calling me baby, coming home late, and, despite his usual obsessive grammar policing, making these silly typos. I hated them because they all entailed one thing--that he was drunk. A night out with the boys, got wasted, and now he wants me to run him a bath. That could only mean one thing too--he'd be back soon.

It happened so frequently it was practically routine. He comes home around midnight--if he successfully manages to put the key in the lock--strips his clothes and makes a mess, has his little bath, and watches porn in the living room until he passes out on the couch. It was unrelenting chaos disturbing my sleep, be it rummaging through the fridge butt naked or blasting Brazzers on the flat screen TV. Then again I should count my blessings, if mom hadn't walked out on him, he'd probably spend the night fucking her brains out, and trust me, that's loud, so it could always be worse. However, by some strange miracle, any trace of his midnight mayhem was usually gone by the time I wake up. Regardless, I do my best to avoid him when he staggers in.

Of course it's not that I'm up so late waiting on him, and he knows this. Otherwise he wouldn't send a plain text telling me to fix his old man a bath. Unlike him, I had the courtesy to have my little jerk off session when he wasn't around, and god knows it's one hell of an ordeal. Being closeted for the most part left me channeling all my sexual frustration at home by myself, in fact I didn't know any gay guys to have fun with at all. Some would probably consider my sex drive concerning, but I felt fine. Maybe a sore wrist for a day or two, but then again what 20-year-old today wasn't a porn addict that masturbated multiple times a day. To be completely honest, I "outgrew" my hands around junior year, and ever since sought out different ways to get off. Today I'd consider myself a sex toy connoisseur, from flesh lights to beads to vibrators, I'd seen it all--had it all.

However, ironically enough, that which was my most fulfilling outlet was also my biggest curse, and it somehow all started with my dad. It began around the time when mom bailed. Despite his great physique and handsome looks, dad never really got out there again after the fact, and in turn didn't get any. Probably having grown complacent in his marriage, he just wasn't used to the dating scene--still isn't, especially considering he's in his late 50s.

Thinking about my dad's sexual needs was something that I'd never have thought would be on my mind, yet it happened that fateful day. An after-school nap turned into a day's worth of slumber, and upon waking up at around 8PM I found the house empty, in the dark. Dazed, I stumbled into the hallway looking for signs of life, and there it was--his bedroom door ajar. A faint light coming from the room. About halfway through, I heard sounds that made it clear even then that I better stay away, but where would the fun in that be? The closer I got, the more distinct the noise became. I was no fool though, and had been familiar enough with porn to realise that he had company. Albeit quiet company. He was the only one grunting and moaning.

You're probably thinking, what kind of sick weirdo spies on the dad having sex? Truth be told, the situation was too exciting not to indulge in. I had heard him having sex with mom before, but this was my first head-on experience--to see my dad in action. As much as I hated him, he was a stunner, and judging from my mom's in-heat howling, he wasn't half bad in bed either. Now I had the chance to witness his skills.

"I'm just curious. That's all." I convinced myself. "There's nothing wrong with that."

I had no idea what my goal was, what I actually wanted to see, or what reaction I wanted to have, but the split second I could make out his silhouette on the bed I was overwhelmed with heat waves.

I craned my neck a bit more, and there he was. Up til that point I had never pondered my dad's attractiveness, but in that moment I could only think: "Why hadn't I seen him naked before?"

His naked body was sprawled over the messy bed on all fours, thrusting like a maniac with all his might. While my thoughts should have probably been--"Why am I watching my dad have sex?" instead they were "Huh. I expected something more exciting than missionary from him."

Admittedly, I felt no guilt. As far as I was concerned, that wasn't my dad. I had never seen him that undressed, or seen those tattoos, or seen him in his element for that matter, and I could barely make out his face. All excuses to let myself enjoy the show. And enjoy it I did. His marble-chiseled shoulders, his bulging triceps, his sloping back, his narrow waist that only accentuated his broad chest even more, his surprisingly fat ass--it all made me want to take out my phone, and make it last longer.

My dad was hot. I actually thought my dad was hot. Being caught wasn't on my mind, he was too invested, and now I was too. Still, I made excuses--"What!? Ew. I don't want my dad to fuck me. I want to fuck like him. Or I want to fuck someone the way he is..." As if this made my pervy invasion of privacy any better. I knew that too. Which is why I did what I was about to do next.

"He'll never know." I reasoned myself. "I'll delete it." I falsely promised myself. "The idea of his secretly gay son having a sex tape of him would drive him mad." I schemed, and that's all it took. Only when I took out my phone did I feel a stirring in my crotch. I held out longer than I thought I would. Hunched over, I held the phone in one hand, and played with my bulge with the other.

That's when it became real. I'm filming my father--I came from the man's balls for fuck's sake, and now I was filming them swinging as he was pounding away some chick. Would he think I was a sick and perverted faggot? Yes. Did I feel bad? No. I rationalized my voyeurism by looking back on how awful he was. He didn't know I was gay, but surely there must have been an inkling. I wasn't an ideal son to him, and he made no effort to hide that. Was filming him a disproportionately severe punishment for this torment? Yes. Did I feel bad? No.

At this point I couldn't tell my resentment and arousal apart, I was fired up either way. I was pissed at him, yet I wanted him balls deep inside of me, the thrill of getting caught going strong. So was he apparently, the man had stamina for days. The possibilities though were endless. What would he do if he saw me? Hit me? Yell at me? Kill me? And probably the least likely of all, but the one I was hoping for the most--fuck me. It's probably all the porn I watched, but I had to live my fantasy, at least in my head. Overcome with anger and lust, I managed to take a break from jerking through my pajama pants and stripped naked. Shirt--off, pants and briefs--at my ankles. I decidedly left the pile of clothes in front of the open door in case he didn't catch me tonight, the thrill now having tripled. Come tomorrow he would find my trace and connect the dots in his head--hopefully.

Being naked 6 feet away from my unsuspecting naked dad made my cock painfully hard, it somehow looked bigger than usual. Being in the nude was generally arousing, but swinging my seven inches in front of my dad's bedroom had me another type of turned on.

He hadn't offered me much variety for my home movie, so I decided I had to close in as much as I could--both for my own satisfaction and for his own poetic punishment. I had to at least get a good shot of his face.

I was practically propped up flush against the wall to the side of the door. Shivers went down my spine as my tip bobbed into the drywall, leaving a sizable drop of precum sliding down towards the floor. I couldn't believe the predicament I was in, it was just like those peeping tom porn videos, and all my dad had to do was catch me. If I was any clumsier, my dick would spring right into clear view, and he could do exactly that. I tried propping my cock against the shallow embossed door frame, so the hound wouldn't distract me, and leaned in as much as I could.

Up closer, his godly figure was focus-crisp, and I even caught a glimpse of his face. The man was drenched in sweat. Then it hit me like a truck.

He was alone.

Turns out the lady friend wasn't shy, she wasn't there to begin with. The revelation was relieving--there was no woman to taint my fantasy, to potentially get in my way. But what was he doing then? Grinding? Humping the bed? The remaining piece of the fantasy, which was conveniently out of frame, was his cock. I could say I never wondered how endowed he was, but let's be honest, we've already passed even worse depravity. Still, he had to be big. Either that, or mom was just humoring him, but it couldn't have been that. He was the type that looked like he was packing. All I needed to see now was exactly how much.

"Fuck it." I decided. If he were to pay enough attention, he could probably notice my phone peeking out the door. I need this shot. Somewhere in the duvet mess, I could make out an object. He was definitely fucking something. I was sweating with anticipation, my cock throbbing. To my shock, his rhythm suddenly became faster, breathing more intense--almost growling. He was close, but I wasn't done. I still hadn't gotten a good look. Much to my dismay, he barbarically clinged to the bed, pretty much obstructing any view I had before. I can't believe he was going to climax, and I wasn't going to get a good look of it.

His body went still as he let out a primal groan. It felt like it was all for nothing. I was pissed. In the end I had nothing on him, just proof of his prowess and stamina.

He swiftly jerked back up, scaring me to death, thinking he was going to dart out of the room to clean up or something. Yet I continued recording. He was still, kneeling on his bed, his back prominently arched. Suddenly my excitement was rekindled, my cock was still stiff and my balls were sore as ever. His position didn't seem fitting for a blue collar dominant stud though, it was timid--a tad submissive, showing off his ass. Wouldn't have surprised me if he spread his cheeks then and there. For the first time the vision of me fucking him flashed through my mind, and I had experience in neither topping nor bottoming. I just seemed rational that he would take my ass in my fantasies, not vice versa. Another thing to daydream about.

Just as I was eagerly awaiting his next move for what felt like ages, he picked it up and held it above his mouth. I couldn't believe my eyes. My cock was throbbing so hard it started swinging like a pendulum, sprinkling long beads of precum over my toes.

He was holding one of those silicone torso fuck toys, and was squeezing the load he shot into it into his mouth. If that wasn't good enough alone, the toy was a model of a male torso--with ripped abs and a hard silicone cock. As the last drops of cum dripped out of the toy's hole, he brought it to his mouth and passionately ate it out, savoring every bit.

Guess I got my money shot after all, but my cock needed taking care of.

To be continued...