Wilson His Dad and I

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

*****

(All characters over 18)

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It might look like they had a normal father and son relationship, Wilson and his dad. I had thought so, before everything happened. I had been Wilson's friends for years, and Jorge had always been a very nice and chill man. I wasn't Wilson's friend anymore. I belonged to him. And to his dad. I was forced to be naked in their presence...and that was just the beginning.

It started when Wilson broke up with his girlfriend. We started to grow closer because I was also single, while all our other friends were dating. So naturally, we had more time together.

Wilson was a tall, slender guy, arguably the most geek and intelligent of the group. Even so, he was handsome and attractive. Funny, with an ironic kind of humor. None of us went to college, but Wilson didn't go because he already had a future planned out with his father. He was also a very horny guy, and thought and talked about sex a lot. He was only single now because he cheated on his girlfriend and had been caught.

I was a blond stud, muscular, gym-crazy, and loved soccer. But other than that, I pretty much had nothing going for me. I felt dumb and slow.

During soccer season, I visited Wilson's constantly, usually with the others guys, but a lot of times by myself. His father worked all day and gave his son plenty of freedom, freedom to use the house as he pleased. I felt at home there.

As I said, we began to spend a lot of time together, Wilson and me, while we were both single, and I noticed that he began to be shirtless a lot. The moment I would enter his bedroom and lay down on his bed, he would take off his shirt and show off his body. I took this as a way of telling me he trusted me, because Wilson was the most slender guy in out group and he was trying to get some muscle. He was accomplishing that for sure.

He was a very busy guy, always walking here and there in his bedroom, talking and talking, shirtless, while I watched from his bed. I was calmer by nature, so I enjoyed just letting Wilson take over the conversation and listen to him.

Then, after many times of watching him take off his shirt in front of me and show off, I thought about validating his effort.

"Hey, man, you're looking good," I said. "Your body, I mean. Your muscles."

"Thanks, man. You really think so?" Wilson stood up in front of me, flexing. I sat up in his bed, watching. "What about my ass? Is it bigger? I hate having no ass. I want mine to look like yours," Wilson said, turning his back to me.

I smiled, because Wilson was usually being a clown like that.

"Your ass look good too," I said, shaking my head.

"Thanks, dude," Wilson said, sitting down next to me. He had a big smile on his face.

We locked gazes. Then the gaze didn't break. It kept going, like we couldn't stop staring at one another. Something changed. I suddenly felt a difference in Wilson's stare, and his smile became less friendly and more intriguing. His smile forced me to be aware that we were alone in the house, alone in his bedroom, and he was very close.

For a moment, I grew nervous, because I felt something. It wasn't even gay thoughts, but just a gay energy. I felt Wilson and it was good that he was beside me, and maybe if he wanted to come closer, I wouldn't mind.

But that was crazy. The only thing that comforted me was that Wilson was the sluttiest womanizer I knew. He was too manly, too straight, to do anything gay. And even though it was shameful for me to admit that I couldn't trust myself, I could at least trust Wilson.

"Bruno," Wilson said. "You look a little tense, buddy." Wilson bumped our shoulders.

"I'm good," I said.

"Can I tell you something? Yeah? Between you and the guys, you're the one I like the most. You're so fucking chill. And you have the nicest bod too."

I felt my cheeks grow hot. It didn't feel like Wilson's normal banter. It felt like it was coming from the heart.

"I like you too," I said.

"I wish I was brave enough," Wilson said, giving me chills. I looked at him, trying to understand what he just said, trying to find a reason to run away and avoid any more of this, but truly, I just wanted to stay.

"What?" I asked, betraying myself.

"I wanna do somethin', but if I'm mistaken, I'm gonna be fucked," he said.

"You gotta risk it all, man, gotta trust your instincts."

I was feeling very bold, but as he moved closer, I froze, scared and worried. I even felt my cheeks grow hot. He came close, sat right next to me.

"Is it okay if I sit here?" he asked.

"Sure," I said, staring at him. "So what is it you want to tell me?"

"Alright. I want you to take off your clothes."

"Oh." The fire was set loose in my body. I burned. "I guess I could do something about that."

He helped me. I raised my arms as he removed my shirt. My nipples were soft pink and small, and he stared at them, making me blush once again. He looked at me in a way I could not misinterpret.

"Thank you, man," he said. "Look at you, so big and hairy."

"It's nothing. Your house, your rules, ey?"

"That's right. It's not perfect yet, though."

"Hm?" I said. He rubbed one of my nipples softly. I let him.

"Take the rest off too."

My nipples were hard. He squeezed the tips, not hard, it didn't need to be hard and rough to make me sigh. I barely paid attention to his words. But I agreed to them.

"I'll do it, if you want."

He smiled, nodding.

He pinched my nipples harder, giving me a small pain on each one. The area around them turned red. It was hard to think. Yet all I did was watch while he squeezed and pinched the tips and the muscles, and left me wanting more.

He helped me stand up. Then he lay back down on his bed, lounging, spreading his legs like a king. He wasn't even trying to hide the volume between his legs. He had no fear I would be weirded out.

Maybe because I couldn't hide my own excitement. I was hard.

I slowly pulled down my pants, revealing my squeezed erection, bursting in my tighty whities. My instinct was to cover myself, but I knew he didn't want that, and...I didn't want to displease him? I left my hands by my side, and felt the weight of his eyes on me, on all of me, specially down there.

And his eyes were alight with amusement.

"Keep going," he said.

I hesitated for a moment. Things were moving too fast. And I was too slow to realize the danger. But there was no coming back now.

I began to pull down my tight underwear, letting myself go free, hard and curved, bouncing up and down in deep pleasure from being so exposed. I wasn't big, but nothing to be ashamed of. I was ashamed though because I was pretty sure Wilson was measuring me up. I felt small. I forced myself to stand up straight and pull up my shoulders. I flexed my muscles, showing off. He whistled.

I spent the rest of the day naked. Wilson told me to lay on his bed and relax. We didn't do anything else, but when it was time to leave, he grabbed my underwear and told me to rub it on my face. I did it. And he laughed at me. But the sound of his laugh pleased me. I rubbed my own briefs on my face and smelled myself.

It was the beginning. Many beginnings to this story.

I met Wilson again at the gym with the other guys. We couldn't mention what had happened between us, but we looked at each other differently now. Like we had a secret.

He watched me work out closely. I was very aware of his eyes as I did squats. He even bit his lip, and it made me shake.

I was discovering that I enjoyed being looked at.

We found some excuse to go to his place alone. His father was home, but we locked ourselves in the bedroom and he quickly started telling me what to do. Drop my clothes, get naked, parade my nakedness around the room, and then he told me to sniff his sweaty underwear.

I pretended I didn't want to do it at first. Hesitantly, while he watched, I touched it with my nose and took a whiff of his scent. It was strong. It pulled me in.

"You smell good," I told him. He smiled, very happy. He made me repeat the words while I rubbed it on my face. Then he took it from me and rubbed it himself all over my face.

His after-gym smell became my new addiction. One time I had not even waited for the work-out to be over, we went to the bathroom and he let me stick my face on his armpit. We both became a little reckless.

But Wilson's place was our sanctuary, and sometimes I worried his dad would catch us. We would go straight to his bedroom, like two naughty children, but he only greeted us and then forgot all about us.

In his bedroom, we were free to play around.

"Beg," Wilson said to me. He stood in front of me, hands on hips, like superman, only in his boxers. His volume was incredible. He grabbed it, hands full. "If you want this, you little fag, you have to beg."

And I didn't know if he was talking about his smell anymore. It looked like he was talking about his cock.

We had never tried it. We never moved past the feeling each other, grabbing, and smelling.

I was excited.

"Please, Wil, I need it. I've been thinking about it all day." I was naked on my knees, looking up at him. He looked down on me. "You don't understand, I need it...I need it."

"You're so pathetic," he said. "I like it."

"I am, yes, please, let me sniff you. I wanna know what a real man smells like."

"You're gonna smell it straight from the source..." he whispered. It sounded like a promise, a threat.

Just then, the bedroom door opened and his father walked in, looking wide eyed. I was so shocked I couldn't move, but Wilson smiled. "Hey, dad."

Mr. Jorge was a balding, slender man who looked younger than his age. He had divorced his wife a while back and basically raised Wilson by himself.

Wilson's dad stared at me, naked and kneeling. He shook his head.

"My father heard us a while back and I explained everything to him," Wilson said. "He wants to watch."

"He does?" I said.

"Yes," Jorge said.

Then there were two men watching me naked on my knees. And I couldn't explain my feelings, except by describing how my cock twitched and leaked like crazy. Wilson was now putting on a show for his father, and grabbed my head, pulling me to his crotch, his underwear. I opened my mouth for him.

First time smelling him straight from the source. Even through the fabric I could still feel the difference. The smell was much more potent.

I also felt the warmth on my lips, my cheeks, my whole face. And the hardness too. It was hard and hot. He made me lick and smell below, where his balls were. He rubbed his volume on my face. "That's it buddy, don't forget this smell, this is how a real man smells."

"Hmmmm, yes, sir," I moaned.

Then his father was grunting. We looked at him, and saw that he was grabbing his pants, and he was showing.

"Wilson, I think he wants to know what a real man tastes like as well."

"No, dad, we don't do that kind of stuff."

Jorge raised his eyebrows at me knowingly. I looked up at Wilson guiltily.

My friend gazed at me for a while, slowly understanding. "You want to suck my cock?" he asked, always straightforward.

I took a moment to answer. A part of me wished I had the strength to say no. But then I nodded.

"Yeah, dude, I wanna suck your cock."

In the blink of an eye, Wilson pulled down his briefs and stuck his cock in my mouth. He barely allowed me any time to breathe. He held my head and thrust himself inside. "Take it, cockscuker. Why didn't you say so before? You know how much I wanted to do this?"

I had known his cock was big. But to have it inside my mouth forced me to actually appreciate the size, the thickness, and the bulging head. The taste was an explosion. I drooled all over it.

He made me gag and tear up.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, Bruno. Bro, are you okay?"

"Again, do it again, come on...I can take it." I pulled him by his ass, holding both his cheeks and squeezing his hard, lean butt. He thrust his meat in my mouth again.

I came all over the floor.

I didn't know how well I was doing. I just bobbed and slurped, hoping for the best. He stopped me, pulling the meat out of my mouth to go sit down. I followed on my fours, arching my back for him. Before slipping inside my mouth again, he slapped my face with it. Very heavy.

When he was done with my mouth, I had his cum running down my chest. "Stay there, on your knees and don't get up until I say so."

He slapped my ass before lying down on the bed. "What about your dad?"

"He had to leave, you didn't realize it because you just couldn't think about anything else except sucking my cock, cocksucker."

I stayed on my knees until he relaxed. I was allowed to get up and clean myself. But I had to stay naked until I had to leave his house. Now that his dad knew about us, he told me I would be naked even in his dad's presence.

If our friends thought it strange how much Wilson and I were excluding ourselves, they didn't say anything about it.

Wilson and I were pretty good at hiding our new secret. At morning, we would be all together at the gym. Except for a few looks, and maybe some quick grab and squeeze in the bathroom, we behaved.

At noon, I was at Wilson's house, naked, sucking cock. Wilson would make me suck his cock in the living room, while he watched sports with his dad. Sometimes I wondered if he was provoking his father. The old man rubbed one out while watching us. He started calling me cocksucker too. They barely used my name anymore.

"Hey, Bruno."

I was startled by that. It made me wonder if I had done something wrong. I had been sucking him on the living room, being happy, content with my role. My back was arched. If I had done something, I didn't know what it was.

I stopped sucking. I licked the excess saliva from the tip of his bulging head, then looked up at him.

"What is it?" I said.

He chuckled. "Relax, bro...You didn't do anything wrong."

I was ashamed of how much relief I felt, it hit me like a punch.

"What is it?" I asked, much more relaxed.

"Would it be okay if you sucked my dad too?" he asked. "I kinda wanna watch that. You're such a great cocksucker. And I love how he watches us. He gets horny as fuck."

I had thought about his dad's cock, but I never said anything because I thought it would be to weird. But Wilson was much braver than me.

"I'll do whatever you want, man," I said.

"You're a good cocksucker, aren't you?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Then you are okay with it?"

"I am," I said.

"You're the best bitch I've ever had," he said, chuckling. "I'll tell my dad. I bet he's gonna be thrilled."

The next day, it was Jorge who opened the door for me. "Hey, kid," he said. When I was inside his house, he turned to me. "Would you rather go to the bedroom, or the living room?"

"Is Wilson here?"

"He gave us some privacy."

"Oh," I said.

"Is that okay?"

"S-sure..." I was nervous. Jorge was a small guy, but he was pretty intimidating. He was not his son. He wasn't young and hard, didn't go to the gym, didn't have muscles. But there was an aura of masculinity to him that made all the rest dispensable. "The bedroom is nice," I said.

Jorge placed a hand on my ass.

"Let's go, then." He talked while we walked. "Wilson thinks that you're not really a fag. Remember when I had to tell him that you wanted to suck his cock?"

I blushed. "I..." I had no words. My cock was hard and pulsing.

"I've been trying to tell him that you want to get fucked in the ass as well, but he won't listen to me."

"I don't know if-"

"Come on...the way you arch your back for him. I've seen actual whores who do less than you to impress guys."

I shrugged. "I don't think he wants me like that."

"I do."

I shivered. We got to his bedroom this time, with a much nicer bed, bigger and much more comfortable, with thick white sheets. I smelled the unmistakable smell of man, knowing that it was Jorge's. It felt like Wilson's, but there was a difference.

I got naked in front of him. I lay back and my cock was hard and standing up.

He ran a hand over my torso. "Do you know how good you look?" he asked.

Soon enough, I was on top of him, a leg over his legs, while he had placed a hand over my ass. I was very comfortable against his chest.

I had my cock smashed against his thigh, but he didn't mind. I was pretty sure he could feel the intensity of my erection. I also was twitching a lot, throbbing with a lot of hot blood going through my veins. I couldn't wait to suck him, but at the same time, I had to wait...because I wanted him to tell me what to do.

He was still dressed.

We stayed in that position for a long time, until he told me to get up.

"Show me your ass."

"Like this?"

"Spread," he said. "Spread your cheeks, that's right, let me see." He touched my cheeks and spread them far wide and apart, almost hurting me. "Hmmm, a pink cherry," he said, and the way he said it made me shiver. "What would Wilson say if he saw you now..."

I felt my cheeks burn. But still I did not falter. I showed him my ass, gave it up to him.

"I told my son I was make you my cocksucker...but I'm thinking we skip that part."

"Sir..." I was about to protest, but he grabbed my hair.

"That's right, you call me sir."

The bed was perfect for Wilson's father to fuck me.

His hands were generous with the amount of rubbing and lubing. I was fingered until I relaxed, which meant I was loose and ready, gaping for him.

"You've been dreaming about this, haven't you" he asked me as he fingered.

"Yes, sir."

"You've been fingering yourself?"

"I have, sir."

"You've been watching porn, frying your brain with anal sex?"

Oh my god, his finger..."Fuck yeah, sir, I have!"

By the end of the fingering session, I was drooling, literally, drooling like a goon. I couldn't wait to get a cock up there.

He gave it to me. He started by rubbing the head, giving me a good torture. Oh but he made me beg for a good thrust there. I blinked my hole for him. He was driving me nuts. Then he pushed in, slowly going deeper, sticking the knife with no mercy.

When it did, he began to fuck me for real.

He slapped my ass. He kept calling me kid, telling me I was a good boy, that I was doing a good job.

Then for a while, he slowed down his thrusts. He entered me as if he was caressing my hole.

Suddenly he rushed inside, making me moan out loud. "Oh fuck!"

He did this many times. Slow thrusts, making love, then suddenly rushing into frenzy, cruel and unforgiving.

The noises I was making were shameful even to me, even though I couldn't stop them. I felt like a slut.

As he fucked me, my cock and balls rubbed against his bed, and it was impossible not to cum. He wasn't bothered by my jizz on his sheets.

"I'll make you cum again," he said.

He slid out, slapped my cheeks, spread them apart and inclined himself to look at his work. I was forced to bite the pillow, otherwise I was going to faint from so much pleasure.

Then he went deep again. He bounced his thighs rapidly, and I could feel each violent thrust. An onslaught. Deep down, I knew he was ruining me. There was no coming back from this.

Of course he made me cum again.

"I really wanna cum inside," he said, and I had no strength to say no even if I wanted.

I felt him throbbing inside as he ejaculated, each time gave me a thrill of pleasure as I knew he was spilling his thick white seed inside me, changing me forever. He left me, creamed. It slowly streamed out of me, running down my crack. I pushed it from the inside, making it gush out through my gapy puffy hole. And even then, it felt like gallons of his cum was still within me.

"Come here," he said calmly, and I obeyed so quickly...like I had no strength to resist. He laid me down on my back, and raised my legs, exposed my hole and fucked me again, pushing deep, while staring deep into my eyes. I nodded to him, giving him my blessing to destroy me, destroy my poor gaping cum-dumped hole. "Bruno, my boy," he said.