A New Morning Routine

I'm a late riser. I always have been. My dad, on the other hand, has always been an early riser, at least for as long as I can remember. By the time I came out of my room sleepy, my dad was either out or working on something around the house. It was the same with my mom. Well, they ran a farm, so you have to be an early riser, I guess.

After college, I went to work for an Internet startup as a project manager. The country life, the hard physical work, getting up EARLY... it wasn't for me. However, I helped my parents on the farm when there was a lot to do. They had given me an expensive education and always supported me in all my plans. There was never any pressure from them to take over the farm one day, like my friends from the area experienced from their parents. So I was happy to help.

It was September and I was helping my father with the corn harvest. I usually drive the chopper that picks up the corn from the field, chops it up, and then blows it onto the tractor that my dad drives next to me. That meant getting up as early as my dad. I was never very good at it myself, so it had become our morning routine for my dad to wake me up: he would walk into my room in boots, jeans and a shirt, quickly and forcefully pull open the curtains and greet the day with a loud "Good morning!"

I hated him in those moments...

Maybe you know it too: you wake up, stretch out, have this great feeling, a tingling in your stomach and back, and then you realize that your own dick feels great too: the famous morning wood. I had it almost every morning that summer. I mean, I was 27 years old, fit and healthy - so it wasn't out of the question that I would have morning wood. But until then I only had it once in a while, but that changed this summer: almost every morning I was greeted by my stiff dick.

And so, on the first morning of that still very warm September, my dad came into my room as usual, pulled open the curtains and greeted the day with a loud "Good mo..." - He paused and stood still in the room. I was barely awake and still completely sleepy. As I rubbed my eyes, stretched and felt this comforting feeling in my stomach and back, I felt... Oh man, damn it: I felt my stiff dick sticking out into the room through my boxer shorts. Startled, I grabbed the sheet I was using as a light blanket, held it in front of my crotch and sat up in bed. My dad stared unashamedly at my groin and grinned: "Impressive, son, impressive!"

"Hm... okay, thanks... can you give me a moment, I'll be right down."

Dad grinned and said, "Yeah, you take care of it, I'll be downstairs." Then he left.

It slowly dawned on me what had just happened. Dad had never been a prude, we could talk openly about topics like sex and contraception, but I had certainly never shown him my stiff cock. My dad had just seen my stiff dick, even commented on it with "Impressive!"... was he amused? Maybe everything was fine and I didn't need to worry anymore?

I had a quick shower (cold, of course), got dressed and went downstairs to Dad, who was sitting at the breakfast table. This was unusual, I had expected him to be out on the farm somewhere. He looked at me: "Let's talk about this for a minute, son! What happened was an unusual situation, but we're both old enough to know how it works!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, that you and I have penises that get hard sometimes, that we have sex, and how sex works!"

"Oh..." I laughed. I liked my father's directness. "Yes, of course we know how it works with hard cocks and that we also have penises!"

"Well, then: is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," I assured him.

But my father didn't stop there: "Do you have a girlfriend at the moment?"

I went to the cupboard to make my morning cereal. "Not really."

"Do you have sex at all?"

Now I began to wonder: "Why are you asking me this, Dad?"

"It's important for a young man like you to have sex. Otherwise frustration will build up!"

"Yes, Dad... I have enough sex!" I laughed: it was funny that my dad was so concerned about my sex life.

"And what do you do if you don't have a girlfriend?"

Now it got really weird... "Dad, there's the right hand and the left hand." I waved both hands at him. He looked at my hands, I couldn't interpret how he looked. Maybe...yeah...kind of horny?

"Did you just use these?"

I looked at my dad: Did he have a problem with masturbation? "I use it occasionally, yes. But I just took a cold shower."

What was that? Had Dad's eyes just flitted to my crotch again? Dude, what was his problem?

Dad suddenly stood up and said: "See you in a minute, I'm going to get the gears ready!" With that he left the kitchen and went to the shed.

The rest of the day was strange. As I approached the tractor with the combine harvester, Dad smugly commented over the radio: "Naaa, are you distracted?" At the end of our break, he winked and said: "Just keep your hands on the wheel!" Time and again, he would suddenly inject very personal details into a conversation. For example, we were discussing the weather forecast for the next few days (it was supposed to be warm and dry). He took this as an opportunity to tell me how he liked to take the young girls to a secluded lake in the summer... I should already knew what would happen there he indicated. Things like that.

Not that it really bothered me. It's just that my dad and I used to talk about things like that in a more friendly, matey way... now those words were kind of... I don't know... sexually charged. I felt like my dad was horny all the time, seriously. He was very fixated on the subject and the sexual details. Anyway, this talk always turned me on, so at least I got very horny. It was a strange day, being so turned on by my own dad talking about sex during work and breaks, and at the same time not having a moment to myself to jerk off.

The day came to an end and I fell into bed completely exhausted. Even though I had been excited all day, all I wanted to do that night was sleep. I don't think it took me a minute to fall asleep.

The next morning my father came back into my room. He opened the curtains. But he didn't open them like he usually did, no, he opened them almost carefully. And he didn't say anything. That was strange. I opened my eyes and saw Dad standing by the window, his eyes fixed on my lower body. I slowly straightened up a bit, looked down sleepily and already knew what I was going to see: my stiff cock was forming a clearly visible tent under the sheet. "Oh man," I mumbled sleepily, reached under the sheet and freed my stiff cock from the clutches of the sheet so that it could lie on my stomach. It had gotten so warm during the night that I had taken off my boxer shorts at some point - I was now lying completely naked with a hard-on under the thin sheet, my dad in the same room, his eyes unabashedly fixed on my cock.

Dad walked over to my bed. I looked up at him, still completely sleepy and confused. Was that his dick showing in his jeans? I looked at his crotch and the bulge that was showing, I rubbed my eyes and looked again: Yes, it was obvious. Dad had a hard-on. And his jeans couldn't hide the huge pecker very well.

I leaned on my forearms and grinned at Dad: "Good morning...you seem to know the problem too!"

"I certainly do." Dad moved his right hand to his crotch and began stroking along the bulge in his pants. Was he stroking his boner right in front of me?

Dad sat down on the edge of the bed, about level with my legs, his upper body facing me. I lifted my hips and moved my body slightly to the side to make room for him, my stiff cock bobbing back and forth, clearly visible through the thin sheet. Dad looked at my stiff cock, looked at me and said, "You shouldn't start the day like that, son!"

He massaged my thigh with his hand. I started to breathe more heavily and felt a little queasy: what was Dad doing? His hand gently squeezed my thigh, stroked it, slid down the inside a bit and then back up again, dangerously high... I leaned on my forearms and tried to lift myself up a little to prevent his hand from sliding any higher, but Dad had a goal: his hand continued to slide up, unerringly reaching my hard cock and gripping it tightly. I groaned, partly from shock and uncertainty, partly... well, actually... partly from unbearable horniness. Another day without jerking off was unthinkable. But the fact that my father's hand was now on my cock made me so horny...

Dad kept a tight grip on my cock. "It's okay, son! Men just need that!". He started wanking my cock, his hand cupping my hard-on through the fabric of the sheet. He had a firm but sensitive grip and moved his hand up and down. With each downward movement, the fabric of the sheet stretched against my glans, so Dad kept increasing the pressure to an exciting level, only to decrease it slightly with the next upward movement.

I spread my legs a little. It was all very exciting and I wanted to signal Dad to continue. Dad put his other hand under the sheet... what was he up to now? A moment later I felt his hand on my scrotum and he took my balls in his hand. Dad massaged my sack, played with my balls, kneaded them lightly, while he continued to work on my cock through the sheet with his other hand. I closed my eyes, pressed my lips together and moaned softly.

"Let it out, boy... we're alone, Mom's gone to town. No one will hear you!"

I opened my eyes and mouth and immediately let out a loud moan. I inhaled deeply and with each exhalation I groaned to the rhythm of my father's hands. The initial shock and uncertainty had given way to uninhibited pleasure. I enjoyed it: I lay on my back again and crossed my arms behind my head.

"Yes, boy... let me help you... let it out... just cum!"

I closed my eyes and stretched. I felt Dad's hand on my hard cock, sliding up and down. My pre-cum had already soaked the sheet. As the fabric of the sheet nestled around my glans, I felt a pleasant, warm and moist pressure. Dad's hands knew what they were doing.

"Boy, you have a nice cock!" With these words, Dad pulled back the sheet. I lay on my back, arms folded behind my head, head slightly raised to see what my dad was doing. Dad was holding my erect cock firmly in his hand, my glans glistening with pre-cum. He looked at my pecker, he really examined it. And then it happened.

I wasn't prepared for it. Dad bent over my cock in one swift, fluid motion, opened his mouth and let the entire length of my cock disappear down his throat. I immediately felt his throat close around my hard-on, gagging slightly as my glans hit a warm, moist, cuddly wall. His tongue began to play around the shaft of my dick and his lips tightly encircled the base of my cock at the sack. Dad had taken my entire cock in one second and was now working it according to all the rules of the art.

Everything began to spin. I threw my head back into the pillow and moaned loudly, stretching my arms out to the side in surprise: "Woooarr... DAD!"

Dad knew no mercy: he moved his head, pushing my cock deeper into his throat with every movement. Sometimes he blew out of his mouth, moaning and gagging a little, but immediately he wrapped his mouth around my cock again with a tender force that made it impossible to stop now.

Now the very last of my inhibitions fell away: I took my dad's head in my hands and began to fuck him with violent thrusts from my hips into his mouth. He immediately stopped controlling the pace: He held his head out as I positioned it with both hands, tightly encircling my cock with his lips, now leaving me in command. I pulled my cock out just far enough that only my glans was surrounded by his lips. I carefully moved it towards his lips, which sucked so hard that my dick couldn't help but slide back into his mouth. It was an incredible feeling as my father sucked on my glans with his wet lips.

Then I slid the whole length of my cock back into his mouth. Dad coughed and choked a little, but didn't let up for a moment: I started to test how deep I could penetrate with short and violent thrusts, but Dad didn't seem to have a problem with it at all, no matter how deep I thrust. So I started to fuck: I thrust, let my hard cock slip out a little, and then pushed it deep down my dad's throat again with a powerful thrust.

After a few hard thrusts, I felt my orgasm coming on. I started screaming for a long time, so loud I thought the neighbors across the fields might hear me. But it just had to come out: I moaned and felt my cum pouring into my father's mouth. He was gasping, choking, but it was unbelievable: neither my unrestrained thrusts nor my explosive orgasm could stop Dad from holding on to my cock. It must have been a lot of cum, because I felt myself squirting into Dad's mouth in several spurts, but not a drop left his mouth.

I let go of Dad's head and sank back onto the pillow with a few more gradually diminishing spurts of orgasm. "Wow... Dad..." I stammered. I couldn't get any more out.

Dad held my cock tightly in his mouth. After such an orgasm it stayed hard even longer and I could still feel his mouth sucking hard. Then I heard Dad unzipping his jeans. Excited, I lifted my head a little to look at my dad's cock: Dad was lying on his side with my cock in his mouth and his own cock in his hand. He had a huge tool, Dad could have been a porn star. The cock was shiny, Dad must have released a lot of pre-cum. He started jerking off hard, holding my cock tightly in his mouth. Dad began to moan through his closed mouth. He was breathing heavily through his nose and his whole body started to shake. Suddenly, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he opened his mouth again and moaned louder and harder than I had ever heard anyone moan. His cum sprayed in a high arc across the bed, onto his torso, onto the sheets, and then dripped onto the floor. His whole body jerked wildly, he rolled his eyes and continued to gasp through his open mouth. As the orgasm slowly subsided, he rolled onto his back and continued to inhale and exhale deeply with his eyes closed.

When I woke up the next morning, I could already feel Dad's mouth around my morning wood. We had found a new morning routine that Dad could use to get me up early.