Tim Reconnects with Dad

I'm still not quite sure why he asked it. Did he want me to feel uncomfortable talking about my love life in public too? Did he want to know my sexuality and thought this was a subtle way of asking? Or was he genuinely interested? Whatever his motivations, I decided to answer honestly. "Umm, I mean, there's girls I like but they've all either got boyfriends or they're not interested in a weird, shy guy like me." I shrugged. "And my English teacher, Miss Wilson is pretty cute, but she's not gonna do anything with a student, obviously."

Dad laughed. "You've got good taste, son. I'm pretty sure I remember her from parent/teacher night. That low-cut shirt she was wearing? Jesus, it's a miracle you're passing that class. You know, I swear she was checking me out that night, too." He laughed again, then finished the last mouthful of his beer.

I chuckled and nervously agreed. This was all too weird. Dad and I had never talked about sex or girls or anything like that before. Either he didn't feel comfortable talking about this stuff with Mum around, or he was trying to convince me (and perhaps himself) that he was still a straight, red-blooded man because of what happened earlier. Whatever the reason, I felt uncomfortable talking about it in public, so I gulped down the last third of my Coke and asked Dad, "Good to go?"

"Yep, all good. Pretty good burger. But could've been better. Not as good as the ones you get from the place on Butler Street." That's one thing about my Dad - he's a creature of habit. He'll try all these new things, but then never go back there again - instead, he'll just settle back into what's familiar. "I guess you should probably drive home, though." He indicated to the beer, then stood up, fished his keys out of his pants, and handed them to me.

"Oh? Oh, right, if you're cool with that." I was off my Learner's license but I knew Dad still wasn't a big fan of my driving. I grabbed the keys and walked behind Dad on our way back to the carpark.

"You can walk beside me, you know," he hinted, passive-aggressively. When I joined him, he decided to give me some of his "free advice" - Dad Code for patronising lecture. "If you do get a girlfriend or whatever, I don't think she'd be too happy with you trailing along behind her like a lost puppy."

I sighed. "I know, but you were always weird about me walking beside you when I was a kid, so now I'm in the habit of following you wherever we're somewhere like this. But fine, if I'm allowed to walk next to you now, then I will." The rest of the short walk to the car was uneventful. Same with the drive home, actually. Maybe I was a better driver now, or maybe Dad was just getting used to my driving. Probably a bit of both.

Back inside, I wasted time on my laptop in the family room while Dad did mundane household chores like emptying the dishwasher and all that sort of shit. It was back to normal - you'd never have guessed that we'd been in the kitchen jacking each other off about 2 hours ago. Maybe Dad was right - maybe we could just pretend it never happened.

The rest of that Thursday was pretty uneventful, honestly. We kind of hung out in the afternoon, Dad cooked dinner and we ate it together, then watched movies and TV separately. Dad went to bed around 11, and I went sometime just before midnight. Thankfully, sleep came quickly that night. I don't even remember any dreams. I woke up on Friday morning thinking everything would be alright.

And for the most part of the day, Friday was actually pretty good. Dad was in a better mood, and we didn't mention Mum at all. That is, until she showed up after work. It didn't help that she opened the door with her keys, instead of ringing the doorbell or even letting us know she was on her way over.

Anyway, when Dad heard the door opening and saw it was Mum, he did not take it well. He told her to "get the fuck out" and called her every name in the book, including "jezebel" which I found particularly impressive.

She explained she was just coming to get some clothes and see me. I was in my room, but I heard the commotion. I called out that I didn't want to see her, thank you, and I shut the door. She took the hint. All up, she came and went in about five minutes, but that was more than enough time to piss Dad right off.

I came downstairs and found him in the family room, doing nothing but brooding. His hands were clenched in fists again, and his breathing was long, but angry.

"Umm, wanna talk about it?" I asked tentatively

He shook his head no. He was clenching his teeth so hard, I was worried they'd shatter in his mouth.

"Fair enough. I'll just be back upstairs," I informed him, then turned to leave.

"It's just, I was doing better," he admitted. I came back in to the room. "I thought maybe this whole thing was winding down. But then she just turns up here? Unannounced? Without even giving me time to brace myself for it. Jesus fucking Christ! When did she get so goddamn selfish?"

"I know," I agreed. "It's not right. She's changed, somehow. I don't know why."

"Neither do I, and that's what gets me most." His bottom lip trembled and his eyes got moist and sparkly. Then the tears started.

Fucking hell, it's so weird watching your Dad cry. Well, it was weird for me, at least. I'd never seen him crying. Not that he was blubbering and wailing - he was mostly quiet and sniffled occasionally. I didn't know what to say or what to do. So I settled for just saying "Fuck, I'm sorry" a few times. Surprisingly, it didn't help. So I just sat with him until he regained his composure.

"Shit," he finally said. "Sorry you had to see that. Jesus, when was the last time I cried?"

"It's okay, honestly. We're allowed to cry, Dad; it's not the 50s any more."

He rolled his eyes and wiped his tears away. "Just because we're allowed doesn't mean I want to. Now do your old man a favour and get me a beer, would you?"

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. But I got him a bottle and took one for myself.

"Thanks, son."

We clinked our bottles and twisted the caps off, drinking our beers in comfortable silence. Then we had a couple more. Then had the leftover pizza from Wednesday, then had a few more beers. I ...can't remember what happened after that.

I woke up in my bed, still in my clothes, with a massive hangover. Somehow, I managed not to vomit during the night, which was a step up from my usual binges. I checked my phone, which was almost dead, and was shocked that it was only 8am. I decided to stay in bed for a while, hoping the headache would pass without any actual effort on my part. After two agonising minutes, I conceded defeat. I got up shakily and shuffled down the hall to the bathroom. I had about 10 gulps of water straight from the tap, found the paracetamol in the cabinet, and had another 10 or so gulps of water, then sat down on the cold floor and concentrated very hard on not vomiting, now that I was quite waterlogged.

My mind wandered, and I began to wonder what Dad was up to. Was he awake? How was his head feeling? No doubt he had more to drink than I did - I was quite a Cadbury compared to him. But holy shit, I can't believe we jerked each other off on Thursday. What was all that about? That kind of thing's incest, which is all kinds of wrong. Plus, I'm not gay, anyway. Especially not for my own father. Thank god we're past that now, though. I didn't think about it at all yesterday. And now that I'm thinking about it again today, it seems more like a half-remembered dream than something that actually happened. Yeah, I'm glad I haven't thought at all about that mutual handjob. About how Dad's cock felt so hard, so warm, so thick in my hand. About his wet mouth, kissing mine as hungrily as I kissed his. About his hand wrapped around my dick, stroking me, making me cum...

Oh fuck! And now I was hard. Like, incredibly hard. I wondered if Dad had gotten hard if he thought about Thursday. I wondered what his reaction would be if he saw me now. I was curious, but wasn't game enough to find out. I stood up and was about to retreat to my room to either masturbate or wait for my erection to fade, but then Dad came out of his bedroom. And he stared right at me. At the undeniable erection-tent in my pants. Shit!

He was wearing his version of pyjamas - a plain white t-shirt and some loose-fitting cotton boxers. Given the circumstances, I wish I had reigned in my curiosity more, but I was too horny to resist - I glanced down to see if he was hard, but he didn't appear to be. But the idea of looking and the hope of what might be was enough to make my cock twitch up with excitement again. "Uh, good morning," Dad muttered, avoiding eye contact with me. "I'll, uh, I'll be downstairs if you...if you want me." He went red in the face after that, and went quickly downstairs.

I didn't know what to do. Should I stay in my room, never showing my face again? It did sound appealing. But...was Dad hinting at something just then? It could've just been an innocent comment, but based on his face going bright red after he said it, I began to wonder. I was just curious and horny enough that I wanted to find out.

Dad was in the family room, not looking particularly hungover somehow. My headache was already fading, and boy was I glad the paracetamol was working quickly today, because I needed a clear mind for whatever was going to happen next.

He watched me come into the room, and I took note that his eyes went to my crotch briefly. My erection had faded since our hallway encounter upstairs. "I've gotta say, I'm surprised to see you awake at this hour," he told me. I agreed. "How's your head going?"

"Yeah, it's not too bad now, thankfully. And I see you aren't feeling any worse for wear after last night?"

"Somehow, yes," he shrugged. "Now, about Thurs-" he began.

"Dad, about-" I started to say at the same time. "No, you go." I didn't want to risk making an idiot out of myself in case he was going to say something different.

"Oh, okay. About Thursday, our ...thing in the kitchen." He cleared his throat. "We said that was just going to be a one-time thing, didn't we?"

"Umm, that's what we agreed, yeah?"

"Okay, because... I mean, if that's what you want, that's okay. But I..." he took a deep breath. "Oh fuck. Okay. I haven't quite been able to stop thinking about it. In a good way. It was good. It felt good, so good. And I'm not saying you have to, but if you want to, if you're open to it, but feel free to say no..."

I thought I knew what he was getting at, but now I was beginning to see what Mum meant about his lack of assertiveness. "What are you trying to say, Dad?"

He stopped and started his answer a few times before he said "Fuck it" and stood up. He walked towards me, his hands shaking, then put his hands on my shoulders and kissed me. On the mouth. Deeply. I was just about to give in and kiss him back when he broke the kiss and stepped back. His face was bright red again. "I know it's fucked up and wrong, but I can't stop thinking about it. About you. I can't explain it, but I want you, Tim."

It was one thing to know that's what he wanted to say, but hearing it out loud just made it so real. I began to doubt everything I felt. Words swirled around in my head: gay, incest, wrong, perverted, illegal, your own father, married, virgin, and many others.

My mind may have been conflicted, but my dick certainly wasn't. I felt it tingle and twitch in my pants, growing thicker, stiffer, harder.

Obviously, my cock won the fight.

"I want you too, Dad," I confessed, my face matching his with redness. It was hard to say, but now that it was out there, I instantly felt so much better. I knew it was the right thing to say.

Dad closed the gap between us again and my lips met his. I closed my eyes, held his body close to mine and breathed in deep, inhaling his scent. He wrapped his arms around me and moaned softly. Within seconds, our tongues were in each other's mouths, swapping saliva and desire. Father and son, standing together in the middle of the family room, united in lust. My rock hard cock pressed against his. I cursed our clothes - I wanted to feel his hard warmth against my bare skin. Even more, I wanted to see it. I wanted to look at my father's thick cock - the one that made me - and I wanted to taste it. Not just wanted - needed. I needed my Dad's cock.

I slid my hands down his back and into the waistband of his pyjama boxers. I rested them there for a few seconds, relishing the feeling of the springy flesh of the top of his ass and how it felt beneath my fingers. Fuck, I was touching Dad's bare ass, and we were just getting started. I continued my hands' exploration, moving around to his hips. I wrapped my thumbs back around the outside of his boxers and impatiently yanked his boxers down, eager to feast my eyes on my father's meat.

Dad's cock caught on the waistband of his boxers, stopping me in my tracks. I was just about to grab it and free it, but Dad stepped away, putting an abrupt end to our make out session. "Oh no, not this time," he told me. "This time, Dad goes first." He reached out and grabbed my belt, undoing it and my jeans fly in no time at all. He pulled my jeans down, then my boxers. My t-shirt fell down, obscuring my cock from Dad's vision like curtains. "Lose the shirt, son," he commanded.

I obeyed. I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside, then stepped out of the pile of pants at my feet. For the first time since before I started school, I was standing in front of somebody completely nude. And this wasn't just anybody - it was my father. The idea should've petrified me, but instead I felt practically giddy with excitement. The pit of my stomach was a swarm of butterflies. My cock stood proud, precum glistening in the morning light as it streamed in through the window.

Dad surveyed my adult body. Obviously, it'd gone through some changes since he last saw it. I watched his gaze as he studied my chest - hairless apart from some hairs around my nipples and my snail trail below my belly button - then down my torso to my crotch. He looked at my throbbing, uncut cock, standing out from my thick forest of dark, wiry pubes. It's fairly average at 6 inches hard, but it's a bit thicker than average. "My, my, how you've grown," he said, half-teasing, half-genuine. Dad dropped to his knees on the carpet and with that, his face was now mere inches from my manhood.

It was my first ever blowjob, and it was sensational. Dad rested one hand on my bare leg, holding me gently, then wrapped his other hand around the base of my cock. I shuddered and moaned in ecstasy when he parted his lips and let me into his warm, wet mouth. His tongue caressed the tip of my cock, probed into my foreskin and licked my sensitive head. He drew the underside of my foreskin into his mouth, sucked on it briefly, pulling it over the tip of my cockhead, then released me from his mouth. He swallowed the combination of his saliva and my cock juices that had built up inside his mouth. Dad released my cock from his hand, then peeled back my foreskin with expert gentleness. My thick purple head was coated with clear, glistening precum. He immediately grabbed the base of my dick again, and swallowed my whole head into his mouth. He licked around my cockhead in slow but strong circles, and I groaned loudly. It felt even better than I'd imagined. I'd never felt anything like it before. I wanted to tell him how good it felt, how lucky I was, how much I loved him. But I was paranoid that speaking would somehow ruin the moment, so I stayed silent, save for my moans of delight.

Moaning with his mouth full of dick, Dad continued licking my cockhead for a few more seconds, then he started sliding his head back and forth, moving his lips up and down my dick, letting me deeper and deeper into his mouth each time. He virtually swallowed my whole cock effortlessly. I ran my fingers through his hair, moaning nonstop while my father fellated me. He let go of my cock and put both his hands on my ass, grabbing and massaging my butt cheeks while he pleasured me.

Dad had only been down there for about a minute or two, but that was all it took. A few more rounds of him sliding his mouth up and down my shaft and I couldn't fight it anymore. The feeling built and built rapidly, and I let out a moan of "Dad, I'm gonna cum," and I felt my balls retract and my cock swell inside his mouth. Dad kept sucking me, picking up the pace slightly, hungry for his first taste of his only child's cum. Within seconds, I was there: cumming in my Dad's mouth after my first ever blowjob. My knees almost gave out, but I stayed standing for Dad. I shuddered as I felt the waves of hot cum spurting up my shaft, shooting into Dad's eager mouth. Without realising, I grabbed a fistful of his hair and held his head in place, moaning constantly. He kept sucking and licking my tip, milking me for all I had. "Fuck," I groaned, once my mind could form words again.

Once he was satisfied I had no more cum to give, Dad stood up again. I had to give him my hand for support, which he took without protest. We stood face to face again, and I leaned in for another one of those amazing, intense kisses. Dad met me in the middle, and stood up straight to make himself taller. I looked up at his face, and he looked down at me and opened his mouth. I opened mine in response, ready for his tongue to enter my mouth. He slid his tongue into my mouth, along with about half a mouthful of my own cum. Seems he didn't quite swallow it all. I locked his lips to mine, then he closed his eyes, and I closed mine. Our tongues danced in the warm, sticky, salty-bitter pool of my cum that had formed in our mouths. We remained there - sucking each other's open mouth, tongues sliding in and around, never breaking our sealed lips - for a few minutes. His hands explored my naked body, caressing my back, my sides, my hips, my ass, and my hair. I put my hands around his torso and held him close, my softening cock leaving a second wet patch on his boxers. Dad tilted his head down, and I followed. I felt the cum slide from his mouth into mine, then he took his tongue back into his mouth and I retrieved mine from his. We opened our eyes and closed our mouths, sealing the cum and spit inside my mouth. I stared into my father's eyes while I swallowed it. He smiled. No, not smiled. Grinned.

"My turn?" I asked, practically begging. I needed to taste that cock. Just the anticipation of sucking Dad's dick was already getting me hard again.

"Well, alright," he jokingly relented. He let go of me and I lifted his shirt over his head, revealing his bare torso. We'd stopped going to the pool together once I started getting puberty self-consciousness, so I hadn't seen Dad shirtless for over 6 years, so it was like I was seeing his body for the first time. And holy fuck, he was gorgeous. If I was in lust before, I was definitely in love now.

He had some chest hair, but his body wasn't covered in it. His arms were naturally strong - lean muscles without gym work - and thick hair coated most of his forearms, while his upper arms remained fairly smooth. His chest was similarly strong - no pecs or abs, but he had a nice shape to him. His stomach was starting to get a little paunchy, but in a way that suited his frame. His pink nipples were hard in the cool morning air - just begging to be sucked on. I ran my hands down his shoulders, over his biceps, down his slightly-veiny forearms, down to his wrists, then back up, and down the front of his torso, over his chest, over those hard little nipples, down his sides to his hips. I leaned in and kissed him just below the ear, then kissed my way down his neck, down his chest, got on my knees and kissed his belly button, then braced myself for the main event.

I pulled the waistband of Dad's boxers out, then down - avoiding getting his erection caught on them this time. I pulled his boxers down his legs, and then I was looking at my father, fully naked, for the first time in my life. Surprisingly for a guy his age, he was uncircumcised. Much like me, his foreskin covered the whole head of his cock, with a little to spare. Precum oozed from the tip, begging to be licked up. His erection was slightly longer than mine, making him a little over 6 inches long. But like father like son, his cock was thicker than average. His pubes looked just like mine - thick and dark and wiry. His balls hung lower than mine did, and he had more pubes covering his ballsack than I do.