I'd be graduating from high school in a couple weeks and I was enjoying every last minute of the hero status I had as the star quarterback who took use to state. I'd just dropped my wad in my cheerleading girlfriend and dropped her off at him. It was late and it was Saturday night. I parked the car in the drive, tried to be very quiet as I walked up the steps. I had to pass my dad's room as my room was at the end of the hall. I tried to be very quiet; he hadn't been sleeping well since Mom died five months ago.
As I passed his door, I heard a low moan. Without thinking, I looked through the partially open door. My father laid on his bed, fist wrapped around his cock, stroking it like mad. I was in shock, just stood there, my own cock beginning to pay attention to the hormones running rampant. The noise from his TV dragged my eyes away from the sight of Dad beating off. For the second time tonight, I got a shock. On TV one young guy had another dude's huge pecker buried in his mouth. Suddenly my dick was aching for release against the front of my pants despite spilling a load not more than an hour ago. As my mind roiled in turmoil, Dad's cock erupted with a geyser of goo shooting a foot up before falling on his stomach.
I beat a retreat to my room, freed my aching cock and began stroking it. My thoughts went from seeing a dude sucking off his buddy to the sight of my dad stroking. A fantasy suddenly erupted; me with Dad's dick in my mouth, kneeling between his legs, gazing into his blue eyes focused far away. In my fantasy his dick slipped in and out of my lips as I pumped up and down on him like my hand was pumping my dick. Soon I blew my second load of the night.
Over the next two weeks the fantasy replayed itself time and again. Over the years I'd seen my mom hoovering dad when they were careless and left their door open or thought I'd be out and they'd get randy in the living room or game room. Of course I saw dad doing his fair share of muff diving. Far more common was either Mom on top grinding Dad into oblivion or Dad on top drilling for the bottom of Mom's hole. But those old Freudian fantasies couldn't compare to the thought of having Dad's dick in my mouth.
I turned 18, celebrated by walking into the local adult bookstore and renting some videos. One was a gay video. The next night, a Thursday, Dad's bowling night, I played them in the game room, knowing he'd come through on the way up from the garage. He didn't disappoint me. He stopped in his tracks as the TV displayed a girl bent over a pool table sucking one guy while another rammed himself in and out of her. Dad coughed in surprise.
"I'm 18 now Dad." I said. "No need to sneak in and look at your porn stash."
His face went beat red. Why do dads always think their sons won't find the stash? Before he could say anything, I suggest "Why don't you grab a beer and check this out."
"Okay," he agreed before walking past to go upstairs. My eyes detected the beginning of a bulge in his pants.
He returned fairly quickly, I was relieved. I was half afraid he'd paddle the pope. As the movie played through to finish a half hour later, we commented and laughed lewdly as men will. When the movie ended, he went back upstairs while I rewound the tape. When he returned, he had two beers, tossed me one with a wink. I nodded and cracked it open as I pressed play on the next tape.
It opened with a guy in a cop's uniform having his tool slobber polished by some dude with goatee. I glanced over; my dad's eyes were wide. My eyes wandered down, his tool was making a tent in his trousers.
