Mmm. Work It, Son!
It didn't come as a surprise to anybody that my father decided to throw a large party for the Fourth of July. Callum and I had just recently arrived in San Francisco a few days ago. Since then, I'd been spending most of the time catching up with friends, while my son hung out with my younger brother Blake, who was his same age. At my father's party everyone would be getting together; even my buddy Ben, who I'd invited, and who would be making his way up from LA.
Ben flew in the day before the big party and I went to pick him up at SFO. I gave him the biggest hug when I saw him and I felt a huge weight being lifted from my shoulders.
"There, there, buddy," Ben comforted me. "Shhh. Let's get to the hotel and we can talk."
Even though my father had offered Ben a room at his house, Ben insisted on getting a hotel. I drove him there, feeling grateful for the added privacy as we locked ourselves up in his room.
"Now, what's going on?" my friend asked, and I began to spill my guts. I'd been keeping Ben updated over the phone about all of the "recent developments" between me and my son, but no amount of texts and calls could replace a good, honest tête-à-tête. Ben was the perfect – really the only – person I could talk to about all this. He was one of my oldest friends. He was the first person to fuck Callum. And as I was about to find out: he had had sex with his own son, Sam.
"WHAT?!" I asked in shock. I thought the conversation would be all about me and Callum, but it turned into a two-hour narrative about Ben and Sam, who I found out not only fucked but also tried dating each other for a while. I was enthralled by the story for so many reasons; the main one being all of the similarities between it and what was happening between Callum and me.
"So where do you and Sam stand now?" I asked Ben.
"Well, he's a few years older than your son, so he's already in college, up in Boston. Unlike the two of you, we don't live in the same city. We've decided it's best for us to see other people. He already has a new boyfriend. I'm happy for them. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't confused by all of this."
"'Confused' is one way to put it," I thought to myself. I continued quizzing Ben about his experience and his relationship with his son, until I had as many details as my head could hold.
"So… what about you and Callum?" my buddy finally asked me.
"Well, what about us?! That's what I'd like to know as well," I said. "Like, where do we go from here? I think the best thing for Callum to do is to get a boyfriend. Someone to focus all of his sexual energy on, other than me."
"Hm. And would you mind if that someone else was older than Callum?" Ben asked me. "Because you know he has a thing for older men."
"Well… No, I don't think I'd mind. Why, are you offering?" I chuckled.
"No, and I'm not what your son needs either, trust me. My life's a mess."
"Too bad. I'm sure Callum would've liked that," I admitted, certain that my son wouldn't mind dating somebody like Ben.
"I enjoyed having fun with him, and I'm looking forward to seeing him again. But I think he understands nothing more can happen between us," my buddy said. By this point it was already late in the afternoon and we'd skipped lunch, so we decided to put an end to our emotionally-charged conversations and go out for a bite to eat before heading to my dad's house.
The following day, Dad's Independence Day party was attended by a few dozen people who mostly congregated around the pool. The party started at noon, and by three o'clock most of the guests were drunk. I was pacing myself and drinking slowly, keeping an eye out for Callum to make sure he was okay. After a while, I lost sight of him so I asked my brother Blake if he knew where he was.
"He went inside with Ben," Blake said, so I headed inside the house to look for them. I couldn't find them in the kitchen or the living room, where some people had gathered to take advantage of the A/C.
"Could they be in Callum's room?" I thought, and I went upstairs to the guest room my son was staying in. Sure enough, even through the closed door, I could clearly make out the sound of two people fucking in there. A couple of seconds later, the moans and grunts and calls of "Ah yeah, fuck me!" let me know that my suspicions were right: my buddy Ben was fucking my son in there.
I took a step back and walked away from the door. I felt an intense sensation I could best describe as jealousy. Once again, I was getting jealous of another man getting my son's attention. But why?! Wasn't this precisely what I wanted? Surely being with me sexually or romantically was the worst thing for Callum, and he'd be better off with another man – any other man – but especially a man I knew and trusted like Ben? Just a short while ago in London, I'd given them my blessing to be together. Now… it felt different for some reason.
Walking down the stairs, I bumped into my father who was coming up.
"You okay, Pops?" I asked, happy to have a distraction so I wouldn't think about Callum getting his ass bred by Ben.
"Yeah, I just wanted some time off from the party," he said. "I'm gonna have a quick lie-down in my room."
I noticed Dad was walking kinda wobbly, so I put one arm around him and helped him up the stairs, as much as he tried to protest. ("Quit that! I'm not that old!!") I carried him into his bedroom, where he immediately slumped down on the bed.
"I'm just gonna nap for half an hour. Come wake me up then, okay?" my father said while unbuttoning his shirt clumsily. I decided to help him with it and I undid all the buttons for him. By the time I was down to the last one, he was also pulling on his belt, trying to unbuckle it.
"You want your pants off as well?" I asked. There'd been a few times in my life when I'd undressed my drunk father, so this wasn't a first. After undoing his belt and his fly, I pulled his pants down past his protruding bulge and down his hairy legs. I folded Dad's clothes, assuming he'd want to put them back on when he wakes up. By the time I was done doing that, I turned around to see my father had also taken his underwear and socks off. He was now lying on the bed stark naked, already dozing off.
"Half hour… wake me up…" he mumbled and started snoring.
Before leaving the room, I looked at my father's naked body. He was always in decent shape, but at 59 now, there was no denying that the abs had been permanently replaced by a hairy gut. His cock – the part of him which most resembled my own – currently rested on his hefty ball sack. Just as I was about to leave the room, Dad's dick started rising, as if to wave me goodbye.
I gave Dad 45 minutes for his nap. Down by the pool, people had noted the host's absence and many of them asked me about his whereabouts. Finally, I headed back upstairs to wake my father up, but before I did that, I snuck up to Callum's door again.
"Ah, ah, ah! Fuck, Daddy, yeah. Fuck me!"
"Yeah, you want a second load, don't ya?" I heard Callum's and Ben's voices from inside. From what I gathered, they were going for round two.
Hearing this sent my blood rushing to my penis, creating a semi in my pants. But once again, I stepped away from the door. I had half a mind to whip it out and cum right here; maybe on Callum's doorknob so he would touch it when closing the door. However, I decided to keep it in my pants for now, and went back to my original mission, which was to wake up Dad.
I let myself into my father's room to find him already awake, but barely. He seemed to still be in a state of half-sleep, as he lay on the bed with his legs wide open, beating his meat with his right hand.
"I came to wake you, but I see you're already up," I said casually. This wasn't my first time walking in on my father jerking off, and somehow I knew it wouldn't be the last.
"Yeah. Thought I'd rub one out before going downstairs," he said, followed by a large yawn. Having raised three sons and no daughters, male masturbation was never particularly taboo in our house. "Listen, boy, can you get me some lube from the bathroom? I left the bottle there." By now, Dad seemed much more sober than earlier.
I took one more glimpse of my pops jerking off before doing as he asked and going into the bathroom. It took me a while to find the large bottle of lube, which was left in the shower.
"What's it doing there?" I asked as I walked back to Dad's bed to give it to him.
"Your step-mom likes taking it up the ass in the shower," he replied calmly; a phrase that probably not too many dads ever said to their sons.
Encouraged by my father's openness – as well as the fact I was still donning a semi in my pants, which was only growing harder – I decided to be brazen as well. I flipped the bottle cap open and squirted some lube directly onto my father's boner rather than handing him the bottle.
"That's nice. A bit more," he asked, rubbing the lube in as he stroked up and down without complaining that I'd decided to apply it myself.
"That's enough, thanks," he said after a couple more squirts. Looking at his cockhead closely, I noticed some precum spilling out of his piss slit as well. I went to place the lube bottle on the nightstand when Dad said,
"Wanna join me?"
"What?" I asked coolly.
"Wanna join me and have a wank? You seem to be sporting some wood as well," he pointed down to my crotch.
"Yeah, well…" I said, and before I had time to add anything else, Dad was scooting over on the bed, making room for me.
Deciding to accept his invitation, I lay next to my father, with him on my right. Unlike him, I had all my clothes on, so I pulled my T-shirt off for comfort and pulled down my shorts. As soon as they were down, a raging boner was already pointing up from between my legs. I was now fully hard, the voices of Ben and Callum still ringing in my head but getting quieter, as Dad got more of my attention.
"Help yourself to some lube if you want," he said.
"I will," I replied, and squirted a generous amount of lubricant onto my hard-on as well. Just like my dad, I rubbed it in in slow up-and-down motions, going from my circumcised mushroom head down to my pubes. As I got into a good masturbation rhythm, I looked to my right and realized I was jerking off at the same speed and in the exact same way as my father: slow strokes down followed by faster strokes up, rounded up with a circular twist around the head.
"It really is like I inherited the technique from you," I noted out loud. "We do it the same exact way."
"Could be," Dad said, looking down at my hard dick. We jerked off like that, side-by-side, all the while looking at each other rather than each his own. There wasn't a lot of talking except for the occasional "fuck yeah" or "mmm, that's good." At least not until we both started to near the edge, by which point we both became more verbal.
"Fuck, I really need some release," my father growled like a bear, jerking himself off faster. At that moment, I don't know what came over me, but I let go of my prick and reached for my father's instead. It happened quickly, but if he was shocked he didn't show it. He just let go of his dick and let me take over.
"Mmm. Work it, Son!" he encouraged me as casually as if we'd done this a hundred times before. Just a week ago I was in a bathroom stall in London giving Callum a hand job for the first time, and now here I was halfway across the world doing it to my dad.
"Careful, boy, you're gonna make me shoot. Go slower," my father said as I squeezed his hard, lubed up cock. I'd thought the whole point of this was for him to shoot, but apparently he wanted the pleasure extended some more. Like a good son, I decided to oblige.
I worked Dad's dick more slowly, but just as intensely. I actually reached for it with my left hand as well, lying on my side so I could wrap both fists around my dad's boner. Up and down I went, working the shaft before focusing more on the head and then the balls. There were quite a few women in my past who'd been excellent cock strokers, and I'd learned more from them than I'd realized. Of course, Dad had plenty of experience with women as well, even while he was married, so I wondered if I was doing a good enough job to keep up with everyone in his past. As if sensing my doubts, Dad said,
"You're doing great, Son. Just keep going. Fuck, just keep going! Work that cock. Work that cock until you make your daddy cum."
I licked my lips and started to stroke faster again, giving my biceps a really good workout. I scooted closer and looked at my dad's dick close up and I realized: this is what Callum must feel like looking at my cock! The cock that made him and the balls that he shot out of. Now aroused and right in his face, ready to shoot up another wad of cum. Before I knew it I was muttering,
"Fuck, Dad, I wanna see you cum."
"What?" my dad asked more loudly.
"I wanna see you cum!" I repeated myself, gripping his cock tightly. In that moment, my father decided to grant me my wish and started shooting a HUGE load all over my hands and his hairy belly. I watched in awe as my brothers and sisters shot out of Dad's dick right in front of my face, some of them even landing on it and dripping down my cheeks and onto my lips and chin.
I licked my lips, swallowing the cum that had landed there and enjoying the taste of my family DNA, all the while ceaselessly milking my dad's dick. I was impressed by the amount my old man could shoot out. After what felt like a full minute, he finally started to calm down. The eruption was "cumming" to an end.
"Phew," Dad said loudly, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. I realized my own hands were slimy and sticky with my dad's jizz. For a second I was tempted to lick them clean, until I got a better idea.
I was still hard as a rock, still awaiting release. I wrapped my cummy hands around my own dick and started jacking it, still lying on my right side, my cock pointing right at my dad.
"Careful, you're gonna cum all over me," he warned me.
"So what? You came all over me," I said cheekily, making Dad smile. I took that as his permission to keep going, so that's exactly what I did. A few seconds later, I was emptying my balls all over my dad's hip and his lower stomach, some of my cum even landing on his cock and balls.
"I think it's safe to say we both need a shower now," my father said after I was done cumming. He got up off the bed and said, "You coming?"
"You wanna shower together?" I chuckled.
"Well it's been a few years since we've done that," he laughed.
"More like a few decades."
"So what do you say?"
"Yeah, I'll join ya," I said. "Just help me get up."
Dad offered me his hand, and I accepted it. On my hand, I had his jizz mixing with my own. As our hands clasped I actually heard the wet noise, solidifying our handshake.