Home for the Summer

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

*****

I had just finished my first year away at college and was on my way home for summer break. It was a 5 hour drive so I hadn't been home since the New Year. This was the longest time period I had ever been away from my parents. I was going to stay at school to take a summer course and work at my part time job in the local supermarket, but a few weeks ago my mom called and asked me to come home. Apparently her father, my grandfather, had to have emergency heart surgery and she needed to go help him and my grandmother for a few weeks until they got back on their feet. That seemed odd to me because my grandparents were always super healthy and active. When I saw them at Christmas he seemed so robust. Regardless, family was everything and she needed to be there for an undetermined period of time. She said she would feel so much better if I was able to come home this summer and help my dad take care of things. He worked long hours and would probably neglect himself, my dog, and the house. It was the right decision.

My dad would never allow me to come home early just to help him, so I didn't tell him. I'd just walk in the door and say, "Surprise! The prodigal son has returned!" Or something like that, but that kind of grand entrance wasn't likely to happen. I wouldn't be home until close to midnight so he'd probably be fast asleep. I would have called to let him know after it was too late to protest, but we didn't have cell phones back then. My arrival would indeed be a surprise, without the grand entrance.

We were a standard upper middle class family who lived in a nice house with a pool in suburbia. My dad worked to support us in every way possible and my mom ran a tight household. I studied, got good grades, played team sports year round, and was a boy scout. We each had our roles and responsibilities and there just wasn't any question about what to do or when. If there was, my mom was there to correct the situation. She knew what to do and had no qualms about making sure it was done.

Both my parents were first generation Italian. They both came to this country without their families in their early twenties. They actually met and fell in love during the whole immigration process. They shared old world values, and I think that was both a blessing and a curse for them. In some ways, I think they would have lived more fulfilled lives if they extended beyond the constraints of their religious upbringing. Dad made some decent money in construction by the time I was born, and he was able to help bring my mom's parents over to this country. His parents had no interest, which was fine because that meant we got to spend some summers in Italy visiting them.

For some undisclosed reason they waited until their mid thirties to have me. If I had to guess, I would say my mom was the one who had some difficulty with pregnancy. See, my dad was the embodiment of masculinity and virility. He was a towering 6'4" and weighed 260 pounds easy. He wasn't fat by any means, nor was he a cut body builder. He was just large, extra large, or even 2 or 3XL. His arms were thick and his hands dwarfed whatever they touched. His broad, hirsute, chest, back and thighs signified his strength and showed that he was no stranger to hard work.

He was a stone mason which meant that his moved heavy things like rocks, concrete, buckets of water, all day long. It also meant that he came home from work filthy. His work pants and tight wife beater t-shirt were always covered in dirt and sweat. My mom would never allow those clothes in our house. She had a laundry basket just for him that she kept in our mudroom. He was to come into house through the mudroom door and take off his work clothes before coming into her tidy house. As a result, it was not uncommon for me, or really anyone that happened to be in the house, neighbors, aunts, uncles, friends, to see my massive father parade around in his tighty-whities. He didn't care. A man his size exudes confidence with every step.

My mom was only about 5'4" and weighed about 120. Not thin, but very shapely with ample breasts. She always wore dark, tight fitting clothes and often had her thick dark hair slicked back in a pony tail. I suspect that she was the object of many bored men's fantasies during Sunday mass. While they were close and clearly loved each other, I don't think they had sex very often. Given their size difference I could imagine it was challenging for my mom, or really most women, to receive my dad. True to the rest of his features, my dad was enormous.

My parents rarely argued. If they did it was over something silly and my mom would lay down the law and that would be the end of it. There was never any drunken rages or any other horror stories that I would hear from my friends about their parents. The only time they every had words was behind their closed bedroom door. I could never make out actual words, but I could hear the tones of their voices which indicated to me something was wrong. My dad's tone was either pleading or frustrated, and my mom's tone was either resistant or apologetic. So the take home message was, my dad had needs that my mom couldn't satisfy and that was the only source of tension between them. Ever the family man, would never step out. He would just do his best with what he had. I guess that was good enough.

When I finally reached home it was close to midnight. I took my time on the drive. I didn't even have the radio on. I enjoyed the time to think while I was alone.

I was nearly 20 years old, in peak physical condition, decent looking, yet, I had only gotten laid once in my life and that didn't go well. Truth be told, I was questioning my sexuality. I focused all my energy into school, fitness, and wrestling. And wrestling was providing more of what I needed than just the sport. On the mat I was a solid athlete. I could take down some of the biggest opponents. THEY feared ME. Turns out though, wrestling was filling more of a gap in my life than I expected. I LIKED being physical with these men. Sometimes it was really difficult to hold back an erection, so I contained things by wearing a jock AND compression shorts under my singlet. Later, when I was alone, I would rub one out thinking about taking full advantage of my opponent.

Did that make me gay? I don't know Anyway, on the drive home I incredibly horny. Wrestling ended a few weeks ago before finals, and for the last week I had just been studying and finishing papers, preparing for the end of the semester. I finished strong and my parents would be pleased. But had a 5 day load built up and my cock was hard for most of the 5 hour drive. I often tried to put myself in situations where an opportunity to take part in or at least observe would spontaneously arise. I remember stopping at every rest stop on the way home. I saw some guy getting a hand job from another guy in the parking lot. Back then I never would have done anything. I was occasionally exposing my cock and playing with it while driving, hoping some trucker would see me and insist on having his way with me. I edged myself twice. I was going to rub one out as soon as I got in bed.

I parked my car in the driveway and went through the front door. The garage door was loud and would irritate dad, especially when the house was quiet. It was better to gradually make my presence known. I opened the front door with my key and entered the house. I heard the TV on in the den. I put down my bag on the couch and locked the front door. I entered the den and there was my old man, fast asleep in the recliner. He was wearing his standard after work uniform; a pair of white Jockey Y-front briefs and a wife beater. It was warm and he would never turn the air on this early in the season, especially if he was the only one home. I also noticed that he was surrounded by empty beer cans and a pizza box. Yeah, he needed me.

I called him twice but he didn't budge. He was snoring hard so I knew he was alive. I approached him to wake him up. As I got closer i could see that he had an enormous hard on that extended straight across his briefs, parallel to his waist band. Not gonna lie, not the first time I had seen that kind of thing, but damn. I stood next to the recliner and just took it all in for a few seconds. His wife beater was straining across his powerful chest, and tufts of black and gray hair stuck out of everywhere. The whiteness of his underwear was a brilliant contrast against his dark, hairy skin. I reached out and shook his shoulder, and said, "Dad...Dad." It took three times but he finally stirred. I could smell the stench of beer emanating from him. It got better when he stopped snoring. He started to wake slowly and instinctively reached down and checked himself as men do. It's like we have to verify that our genitalia is still in tact. He briefly and gently gripped the length of his massive hard one. When he did that I noticed a small wet spot form around his cock head, like he squeezed out some pee or something...or...something. "Surprise!" I said, and his face lit up. He was glad to see me.

We exchanged pleasantries and greetings. He was slurring his words a bit. I think I also smelled scotch. I told him I was heading to bed and he said, "Me too!" He collapsed the recliner and clicked off the TV. I think he stood up too fast because after a few steps he cried out in pain. "Ahh, cramp! Cramp!" he called out and grabbed his calf. He flopped back in the recliner and I went to help him. He put his big foot in the air and propped it against my chest and rubbed the cramp out of his calf muscle. It felt hard as rock first but then I felt it relax. His other leg was completely relaxed and hanging out to the side. I was looking straight down at his crotch and noticed that hard on retreating. His cock was now half the size it was before. "Ahh that's better. Ugh. Thank the lord you were here."

"Glad to be home Dad, Let's get you to bed." I hoisted one of his big arms around my shoulder. It was like a slab of beef. "Let me help you." I walked with him through the house to his bedroom. He flopped down on his bed. He rolled onto his back, put his head on the pillow and then pulled his briefs off. He threw them across the room. "I can't sleep in those things. Too hot!" And with that he grabbed his balls and shook the whole package. Again, nothing I hadn't seen before.

"You know, it wouldn't be so hot if you put the air on."

"Okay smart ass, you want to pay for it?" Which was is standard response to any comment that would have cost him money. I went across the hall to my room and undressed to my new skimpy bikini briefs. I wasn't hung like my dad, but I was alright at about 7 inches. I was cut though, even though dad wasn't. I walked across the hall to the bathroom to go pee and brush my teeth. I closed the door so I wouldn't disturb my dad. After about 10 minutes I finished up. I opened the door and to my surprise there was my dad standing just outside the door in just his wife beater t shirt. He said, "I gotta use the john."

"All yours," and I walked passed him. He looked at my briefs and said, "What's with the girl panties?" and with his big paw he grabbed the back of my briefs and pulled them down some, but also pulled me back toward him. I lost my balance and put my hand behind me as I fell backwards. I didn't go down, but I had a pretty good stumble. Good enough that I reached back and my hand smacked into his junk, just enough to make his left ball crash into his right ball. While I stood up, he bent over. The ball rupture took his breath away. I turned toward him to apologize and in and instant he brought his right hand up too fast and brought his hand into my nuts. Now my breath was taken. He said "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to hit you...there."

"Me either." I headed off to bed holding my balls, and he went in the bathroom, holding his balls. I heard him start to pee as I laid on my bed. Somehow I lost the urge to pleasure myself and fell asleep. I woke the next morning to sounds in the kitchen around 5 a.m. He was getting ready for work. I went downstairs and found him in the kitchen making coffee, wearing only his wife beater. His shaft was full and looked heavy, but not hard. I don't think he was expecting me up this early. "Going to work?" I asked. Surprisingly he said he was off today because he was in between jobs. "Can you make enough for me please?"

"Sure thing! College man, drinking coffee. Look at you."

"Yeah, those 7 am labs are rough."

"Especially when you're out late drinking or doing who knows what, right?"

"Yeah, WHO knows what...EXactly." I repeated with sarcasm. He was referring to drinking or sex. It wasn't true but in my mind, he was referring to me sucking cock late into the night while I was away at college. That is not at all what he meant, but that is what popped into my head as a result of his very benign comment. That kind of thing was happening a lot lately. "Okay, heading back to bed for now." With that, I went back to my room and flopped on my bed. Wearing only my girly briefs, which were essentially Jockey Elance men's briefs. The same kind that Jim Palmer wore in the Jockey advertisements. I laid on my bed, on top of my covers because even though it was so early in the morning, the house was warm. My open windows weren't cutting it. Nothing I hadn't experienced before.

I drifted off to sleep for what seemed like two minutes, but in actuality it was more like two hours. I woke to my dad standing over me with a cup of coffee for me. That was so nice of him I felt compelled to wake up even though it was only 7 a.m. He was standing there in his wife beater and a the pair of white briefs, probably the ones he took off the night before. As I was waking I reached down and checked myself as he did the night before. My genitalia was still in tact. I was not surprised to find my own raging hard on that was challenging the thin material of my Jockeys. I sat up and took the cup from him. With my first sip I thought, how long was he standing there before I was awake. Was he admiring my hard on the way I was admiring his last night? The thought alone excited me. "Sorry to wake you, but I wanted to clean the coffee pot. It's time. The day is wasting away!"

"Relax Dad. It's 7 a.m."

"Like I said, wasting away." And with that he padded out of my room. For a man who was built like a cartoon Brutus, he sure was light on his size 14 feet. I sat up in bed with my back up against my headboard with my legs crossed at my feet. I sipped my coffee and regarded my own body. I was no slouch. As a college wrestler heavyweight division, I was big, muscular, and fit. My feet were big and veiny, yet perfectly shaped. Calves were big but tight. My thighs were large and well defined. The pouch of my briefs were strained with the heaviness of my balls and the thickness of my shaft was well-defined through the thin cotton material and I was only semi hard now. Still qualified as morning wood. The sheer size of my manhood pulled the front of my briefs lower. The band was just above my pubes and up from my skin about a quarter inch. My abs were flat, but I really had to flex hard to see my 6 pack. The muscles were covered in a layer of fat from beers and fried food. Still I could I could make them pop if I wanted to. I'll trim down by the end of the summer. My broad pecs sat on top of my abs. At the center of each pec was a dark quarter size nipple with the equivalent of a pencil eraser in the middle of each. My shoulders were even broader, and along with arms were the most well-defined muscle group on my whole body from my perspective. With each sip of my coffee I could see a variety of muscles move and change shape. My olive skin was usually covered in thick black hair, but I had shaved for the wrestling season. It was coming back now. In a week all of the dark and curly hair would be back in their full glory. At 5' 10", 195 lbs. of muscle, I was impressive, yet I was still dwarfed by the man in the kitchen.

I put down my cup and stood. I stretched hard a few times. I could hear some joints cracking. I contemplated closing my door and emptying my full balls, but I decided against it. Instead I picked up my cup, guzzled the last mouthful and headed to the kitchen for a refill. I walked over to the coffee maker, and pot was empty and cleaned, just like he said he was going to do. He busted in through the garage door which entered into the laundry room, which then entered the kitchen. He was holding a his tool bucket in one hand and in the other arm was wrapped around a white box. He set both down on the floor. "What's all this?" I asked.

"Time for a new disposal. This thing leaks and its loud. As you can imagine, your mother was unhappy with it, to say the least." The big man stood in front of me, preparing for his chore for the morning. He squatted down in front of the kitchen sink cabinet and began to empty is contents.

"You're going to do that in your underwear?" He wore size 32-34 because he liked them tight for extra support. From behind you could see the thin cotton material stretched across only a small part of his very large glutes. He did a lot of squatting and lifting all day at work, and as a result of a few decades of doing that every day, his glutes began at the small of his back and continued down to the middle of his powerful thighs. The bands of muscle were prominently displayed. He had much more definition in that part of his body than anywhere else. The pouch of these briefs strained to carry his ample ball sac. It always looked like he dropped two eggs in briefs, but it was just his meaty testicles.

Thankfully the folks at Jockey could see the benefit of doubling up the material in that region. Still, he was so big and the briefs were so small that there was a gap between the briefs and his thigh. You could always catch a glimpse of the side of his scrotum and tufts of thick, dark pubic hair. His penis was a thick slab of meat that extended at least three inches past the doubled up cotton material. Even though he was uncut, the ridge of his cockhead was obvious. He was the very definition of well endowed, and those sweaty cotton briefs hugged him tightly all over and clearly accentuated all that he was carrying. He was a sight to be seen. I saw one my mom's brothers completely lost in thought while deeply staring at his bulges. I'm sure he, like me, spilled considerable seed over this sight to be seen.

"Son, I have changed so many disposals in my life, I can do this with my eyes closed. Plus, its my day off and my work clothes are dirty" With his two big hands he reached into the cabinet and gripped the disposal. With one quick twist he released it from the drain. The muscles in his neck and shoulders bulged and became sinewy. He pulled it out and set it down on the floor. "See that, Easy peasy." The man didn't even get out of his catcher's squat. His thighs were massive, and his glutes were so big and strong. I could see each round and bulbous ass cheek separated by the clearly defined dark shadow of his ass crack.

"Wow. Impressive. That WAS easy...for YOU!" How about I go get your laundry done. I have some of my own to do, too." I don't really know why or understand it, but this whole scene was turning me on. Maybe it was the 5 day load in my balls.

"That would be very much appreciated. I've been letting a few things slide since your mother moved to Florida." That phrasing gave me pause. Hmm. Moved? I didn't mention it.

"I gotcha dad. You take care of that and I will do the laundry. I'm also out of clothes." I picked up my bags from the front door and brought them to the laundry room. I emptied the contents on the floor of the room and went to the mudroom to get his work clothes. He had two pair of jeans that were covered in dust and mud. I stood outside our door in my briefs and beat them against the ground a few times to get them ready for the machine. Then I grabbed his shirts and socks from the basket and brought them to the laundry room. I dropped them on top of the pile. I went back to the kitchen to get to the hallway to the bedrooms.