Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
"Weren't holidays supposed to be over by now?" Dad asked. He sat in front of me in our table, and was scrolling up and down on your phone while he held a mug of coffee in this other hand.
"Yeah, college's back this Wednesday. Why do you ask, got tired of me?"
"Out with that grin, Adrian, I'm just curious."
I took a bite of my toast and gulped my juice. "I know, I know. It's not like I didn't do anything, right? I still have my part-time job and I was doing laundry and dishes as agreed. You got nothing on me, old man."
Dad threw a bit of his leftover toast at me. "Now you're talking me back? You rascal, don't go all smart on me or I may have to punish you," he said, laughing. He didn't know yet, of course, how much I was anticipating such punishment.
"Roger that, master".
We both laughed.
It's been eight days since I first messaged Dad to order some of his used briefs and socks for myself using an alternative e-mail address. He only messaged me back on the next day, and after we agreed on the price I transferred him the amount through PayPal under a new fake account I created specifically for that. Once he confirmed me the amount was received he gave me four days to ship the goods.
Today Dad's leaving to work at a cafe in downtown. Prior to discovering his side business I just thought this was something he used to do to connect with people and socialize, since everyone complains he stay too much at home, but now I get it: what better moment to inconspicuously go out and ship the goods to his customers without raising suspicions of his own son?
My package had to be in his suitcase by now, ready to be shipped.
"Alright, that was fun," Dad said as he got up and collected his dishes to leave on the kitchen counter. "Please don't forget to do the laundry for us."
"Sure, sure."
Dad pulled his suitcase that was hanging in the chair to his shoulder. "I'll be back after lunch, see ya."
"Eh, Dad?"
"What's up, Son?"
"Can you spare some minutes? I want to get your opinion about something?"
To be completely honest my first reaction to seeing Dad selling filthy underwear online was to just purchase and jerk off to it. There's something about the transgression of lusting after my own father that makes me extra horny. If I could harness something else out of him, out of this situation, that'd be a bonus. Dad was adamant about not taking nude pictures for any of his clients, no negotiation, period. It was after I investigated his browsing history in his second browser client, full of dad and son porn, that I saw the real opportunity: fucking and getting fucked by Dad.
What excited me the most is that most of the incest videos also featured mild pig play: often one of them were serviced by a jet of piss up on their mouths or asses, and domination was a common theme among them. What's more important: most of the couples also had similar bodies to ours: stocky, hairy dads fucking or being fucked by their skinny, hairless, boyish sons. Seeing that alone almost made me cum hands-free fantasizing about playing as Dad's fuck-toy.
Now, how would one push their Dad, seduce him, to the bed? That's the real riddle. I obviously couldn't tell him I knew about his business and neither could talk about his e-mail messages and anything else I found in his cloned hard-drive, or else I'd risk Dad losing all trust on me or tagging me as a creepy snooper, so the first move had to be mine.
First goal of the Getting Fucked by Dad Plan: establish common ground.
"It's... complicated. To be honest I'm a little embarrassed to talk about this with you, Dad." Thank goodness my bottom was well hidden by the table, because I'd have trouble as I tried to hide my boner from Dad.
Dad opened his eyes wide. "You didn't impregnate Evelyn, right?"
"W-what? No, Dad, no."
"Did you catch an STD?"
"Dad, what the fuck, it's nothing like this. Sit down, please? You're making me real nervous."
So he sat down again. "Well, I had to ask. Sorry about that, son. So, what is it?"
I scratched my chin and tried to avert his gaze. "Stop looking at me like this, it's nothing serious. I'm just... I just want to get your opinion, right?"
Dad lowered his shoulders and sighed. "Alright, I'm listening."
"It's about sex. Me and Evelyn... I'm not feeling it."
"Feeling what? You want to break up?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know. I mean I don't feel as horny when I'm with her anymore."
Dad just nodded.
"Things were fine in the beginning. I mean, she's hot and all, but I want... more."
"I'm listening."
"So here's the embarrassing and complicated part: ever since I opened up to Evelyn about trying some things, she hasn't been the same with me anymore. Actually, if we're to break up, I believe she'll be the one to bring it up."
Dad raised his eyebrow. "Let me grab some juice for me. So you're worried you two might end up breaking up after all," he said as he got up and moved behind the counter to reach the fridge. As he poured juice on a glass to himself, he continued: "Son, you do most people have some fetishes, right? If your partner doesn't want to be part of them, you can only respect them. You want some too?"
"Nah, I'm fine. I mean, I'm not pushing it, but I fear Evelyn is not the person I thought I knew."
"What do you mean?" He said, still behind the counter.
I took a deep breath and scratched my head. "You know, Evelyn loves you and respects you and Mark and all, but I think things are different when it's about our partners. One of the things I asked her was... to peg me."
Dad spilled his juice and choked in laughter. "You know, about all things you could be afraid of telling me, I would never imagine this to be one of them. The son of a gay dad afraid of telling him he wants to get fucked in the ass. Now that's news!"
Clap. Clap. Clap. "Yeah, real classy, Dad," I said, staring at him with half-closed eyes.
After he finished cleaning the tears off his eyes he said "Sorry, Son, you caught me off-guard, that's all. I was expecting anything else but this. Anyway, and what did she answer?"
"Something on the lines of 'I wasn't expecting this from YOU'."
"I guess that's kind of understandable? Can't see the wrong here with her answer."
"True. That might've been the final straw for her, though."
"How come?"
"It's not the first time I ask her about doing something different."
Dad got back from the kitchen and sat down again. "Go on."
"I can already see you laughing your ass off, but whatever, I need to talk to someone: I'm into some, let's say, filthier varieties of kink."
As I was hoping, Dad didn't laugh. Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned on the table, his eyes all fired up towards me. "I see, I see. Out of curiosity, what do you mean by 'filthier'?"