Glory

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional incest or fictional incest content.

*****

I'm sat on the loo next to the glory hole in the gents at the St. James Barton roundabout at the bottom of stokes croft. I'm just so fucking angry, and kind of sad, and I didn't know where else to go. My Dad just kicked me out of the house, because I'm gay, and now all I want to do is go suck a massive dick. Like a giant fuck you, see if I give a shit about your fucking homophobia Dad.

I guess he could have found out another way. Must have been a shock to come home and find me on my knees with his best mate's dick in my face. But he would fly off the handle however I came out. I've been listening to his contempt and scorn of faggots for years. His sneering, disparaging remarks. It was only a matter of time before he discovered the truth about me. I'm one of the batty boys he hates so much.

Something had to give, the tension between us had been darkening for sure. Ever since he started dating my old school friend Alison. We used to be best mates, but I can't look at her the same way since she started sharing my Dad's bed. Is it wrong of me to get so mad about it? She always used to say how hot my Dad is. All the girls used to tease me about it. We're all adults now. I'm 19 she's 20. I guess it's fair game. Whatever, I don't really talk to her anymore. I use my Dad's house more like a hotel now anyway.

I don't even know what he was doing coming home at that time. He's always, always teaching Tuesday nights. Every Tuesday and Thursday night he stays late to lead evening classes at the boxing gym. Rich must have been thinking the same thing. That's why he came knocking with no good reason, asking to come inside. I thought nothing of it, Rich called most days since I was a kid. I've known him my whole life.

Fuck, I wish Dad hadn't come home! Rich was fucking incredible tonight. Man, I've been crushing on him so hard. The Man's a fucking brute! Mixed race Boxer's build, bald but with a fulsome beard. Always wearing black Adidas socks with white stripes, and soft grey track shorts that show every detail of his fat dick in the curves and shadows of his package.

He never talked much, but always gave me winks and dropped cheeky comments. Either way, I did not expect the scene he treated me to next.

I did wonder why he called as he hit upon one piece of useless small talk after another. My eyes wandered naturally to his awesome crotch, and he caught me looking. I darted my gaze away, flushed with embarrassment, but the sight is just too fucking great, and he caught me staring a second time. I was just about ready to die of shame when he piped up,

"There ain't no harm in looking, Junior... I've seen you checking me out."

Saucy comments were his speciality, but this was definitely the most overtly provocative thing I'd heard Rich say. He grabbed his junk and gave it a shake,

"You like what you see?"

"...uh, Rich," I mumbled doubtfully.

"I know you been dreaming about my fat dick," he persisted with a wicked grin, "Maybe its time you got the private view?"

And then he slid the waistband of his track shorts halfway down his thighs. Rich was wearing no underwear. His magnificent penis hung free, his chubby circumcised glans like a splendid grape.

"God gave me a real pretty dick, right boy?"

"...yeah ...yes Sir!" I gulped, marvelling at its weighty perfection.

"Oh, I like that. Yes, Sir," he repeated, "You just keep calling me Sir."

To punctuate the order he gave his own balls a loud slap. Looked like it should have hurt. I'd have creased if he slapped me like that. But if it did hurt, he didn't show it. Didn't even flinch. And as if the strike had activated his sex drive, the dead weight of his heavy dick began to swell into a yummy semi.

My dumbfounded face clearly pleased the Boxer,

"You know it tastes every bit as good as it looks. I can see your mouth watering from here."

My mouth wasn't the only thing watering. As he spoke a glittering string of precum rolled off his bell. Where did he learn to talk like this? So cocky and sexy.

"Why don't I just get comfortable on the sofa, and you can find a nice place down between my feet?"

Positioning himself like a King on the couch. Slouching back in his 'Empire Boxing Gym' tee, legs spread, he let his bofty stand proud. I wasted no time in crouching before him.

"This is something we don't have to tell your Dad about," he checked me.

"yeah..." I smiled, my eyes wide with the wonderful vision of his wet dick looming above me.

Fuck, I could smell it! Of course that's when Dad walked in. Didn't even get to touch it. He hit the roof, swung a few hooks in Rich's direction. His pal didn't stick around, and neither did I. He yelled down the street after me not to bother coming back. Calling me a faggot and a pervert.

Blind with raw emotion, I stamped a direct route down the M32 footpath towards town. Thought I didn't know where I was going, but when the St. James Barton traffic lights came into view I realised the glory hole had been my destination all along.

Kind of hard to believe they let this go on in here. There's nothing very secret about it. A decent tin can sized hole between the last two cubicles. And it gets busy. Couple of times I've come down here to find the cubicles occupied. Tonight I was lucky tho, and the place was empty. I took a seat and waited.

I've done this a bunch of times. Sucked random cocks for dirty kicks. That's all I wanted to do now. Suck a big juicy dick. I've been scrolling on my phone for like 40 minutes now. Guess Tuesday nights are slower at the famous glory hole. Heard a couple of gents come in and go again, just regular guys pissing.

Finally footsteps squeak into the cubicle next to mine. Hope it's not another normie. My heartbeats are thumping in my ears as I gather the courage to knock on the partition - a signal for action. I've totally scored! The guy guides his boner through the hole, pushing himself up against the wall, so his whole length penetrates my space.

Dude's big! Not quite as pretty as Rich (who else could be?), but it's a handsome dick. And long. He's let his balls drop through the hole too. Nice.

I get straight to work, getting as much spit on it as I can, lapping hungrily on his rubbery bulb, delighting in the realness of the moment. All my anger and frustration, all my hatred for my stupid Dad, translated into desire. I feel my defiance and lust is infectious, his dick responds with hearty throbs and bounces.

I take his right bollock between finger and thumb (which I never did at the glory hole before) and gently squeeze. He likes it, groaning from the other side with pleasure.

Fuck this is great! The best blow at the glory hole I've ever had. I really feel like we're sharing some connection! Working in unison. This dick is just the right shape for my mouth. I take it deeper. Deeper still. Fits nice, and he's beating his hips against the partition to get more of me.

I can feel he's ready to cum. Am I going to swallow it? I want to. I always let them spooge into the air, but this one is just so different. I want to be glossing his sensitive bellend when he shoots. I want to make him shiver. Holding tight I draw it out of him, listening for the sighs and heavy breathing.

"Fuck!" he falters, lost in the sweet release.

I smile to myself, knowing I hit that spot. Post-orgasm, my tender licking proves to much for his tickling penis and he withdraws.

I know it's against the rules, but I want to see him. The Men come here to shoot and go. Us faggots are just supposed to choke and disappear, never to be thought of again. But his dick was just too fucking great. This was so much more than a regular blow job, and I want to see who this lush cock belongs to. I want him to see me.

I clack the bolt open and let my cubicle door swing open. He's in the final cubicle and will have pass my door to exit the gents. Even if he wants to dash away, he'll see me. I can hear him sorting himself out, packing himself away. His bolt snaps. His door swings. He strides forwards and our eyes meet.

It's my Dad.

It's my fucking Dad.

I swear this is like some out-of-body experience. The moment seems frozen in time. my head feels suddenly light like I'm high. The butterflies in my belly delete me. We're both speechless, but the fury in Dad's eyes is unmistakable. Any second now he'll lash out.

"You fucking pervert!" he despairs at last, shoving me backwards into the cursed cubicle I emerged from.

I'm trying to defend myself from his Boxer's blows. I don't stand a chance. There's nothing I can say. What can I possibly do to save myself? Before I even know what I'm doing, I push passed his fists and kiss him. A big kiss, passionate and gay. He takes it, dropping his attack.

What made me do it? It wasn't an idea. It was survival instinct. And now we're kissing like lovers. His hands caress my body and draw me close. It feels nice. Better than a beating.

WTF. Do I fancy my Dad? He's in great shape. I let my timid hands rest on his chest, slowly caressing his pecs through his 'Empire Boxing Gym' polo shirt. I try to read his face from this ultra-close-up, his stubble scratching my soft chin as he chomps me. I want to fancy him. I want him to fancy me. I want his love.

I never imagined getting so close to him, and it feels so fucking sexy! My fingertips have wandered down to his jeans all by themselves. But finding them tugging on his empty belt loops, I direct them under his jeans. He's rock hard again (if he ever got soft), and his warm bell is nearly punching a hole in his white briefs. I give his bell a loving rub with my thumb, Dad frowns through his kiss,

"Son you're wrong in the head, boy," he mutters with all the intonation of a threat.

"Come on Dad," I sigh, thinking just how good our glory hole encounter had been.

"That's why I got mad at you son," he soothes, "It's only because I'm your Dad. I'm not going to let no son of mine gag on any Man's dick! Like a fucking bitch!"

I can feel he's making himself cross again.

"I wouldn't need another Man if you looked out for me, Dad."

Where did that come from? Seems to have calmed him down a bit tho?

"You want me to see to you, boy?" he searches, kissing me again.

"...please Dad," I surrender to the madness.

Closing us in the same cubicle, his mighty dick comes out again. I crouch before it once more, but this time I know exactly who I'm gratifying. This is the dick that made me. These are the balls that cooked me up. I plant gentle kisses on them, winning an honest smile from my Dad - the first in many months, and my heart bursts to be back in his good grace.

I nuzzle under his sack, closing my eyes and taking in his scent.

"Fuck, boy you're making me horny!" he chuckles, and I want to satisfy his lusts.

Now I'm back on his rod, giving it the same wet job I teased him with before. Without the partition to separate us, Dad is free to take hold of my head, and he thrusts at me, plunging himself in. The liberation of his secret passions brings him to climax faster on the second lap. I swallow with just same eagerness tho, hugging his hips to force his freshly drained penis tip onto my tongue longer this time.

"Ahh, son!" he squirms, freeing himself through sheer force, "Fuck, Daniel you're good at that, boy!"

"Will you fuck me, Dad?" I beg, standing up to him.

"...I'll fuck you, boy," he pants, staring me down.

A night drive in silence back to Easton, and he's looking for a parking space two streets down from ours. I spent the whole journey imagining sharing his bed. Replacing Alison.

"You won't need Alison now." I blurt while he reversing into a gap between two vans.

"You don't have to be jealous," he chides, concentrating on his manoeuvre in the dark, "She's visiting her mum in Bath tonight anyway."

If he's gonna keep fucking Alison, I'm definitely picking up where I left off with Rich!

Fuck, this is something we can sort out tomorrow. Tonight, I'm just going with the flow. My Dad wants to fuck me, and I am here for it! He twists his key in the front door of the house I grew up in. How did life take this mad turn? I catch Dad's eye. It twinkles with wicked lusts. True glory.

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