***Prologue***
"Brock, I'm almost done down here. Can you print out the tickets? Then we don't have to wait on line when we get there," Karen called up from the kitchen over the running faucet.
"The printer up here won't connect to the computer since Trevor messed with it."
"Just use Trevor's then. His password is 'lacrossestarr2000' with two 'R's'."
He didn't know why, but the thought of this exhilarated Brock. He felt wrong about using his son's computer without his knowledge or permission, especially since, being a 18 year old boy, this computer was used for one reason. But was that also what excited him? He would be able to see what Trevor did in his alone time. One click would show him everything his son was into. It seemed normal that every father would be curious to know what kind of porn their son watches. Would he be into asians? Teens? Lesbians? Or, he thought as his boxer-briefs slowly began to feel tighter and tighter, would Trevor prefer the type of movies he himself sometimes watched when he was alone. The type of movies that no women appeared in, and were never missed.
He crept into his son's dark room. It had an overpowering, yet not at all unpleasant aroma of sweat and musk, with the tangy hint of cum. The laptop was closed on his desk. The chair was pushed away from the desk: the perfect position to have one hand on the keyboard, and the other doing something else.
He imagined Trevor sitting there, watching a gay bareback orgy perhaps, a bead of sweat slowly moving down through the small patch of black hair that was just starting to appear between his pecs. Slowly dripping down his chiseled six pack, ending in a thick mat of wiry black pubes, while he pumped his throbbing cock, the one Brock himself had helped create.
Pumping.
Pumping.
Pumping.
The imaginary Trevor was bucking up and down, his movements were getting faster and faster. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He opened his mouth just as --
"Honey, were you able to log on?"
His cock which had swollen to its full eight inches and was begging to be released from his jeans almost immediately deflated.
"Give me a sec Karen, I haven't tried yet, I almost broke my neck stepping over all his laundry."
Was he sick? This was his son he had just a few seconds ago imagined blowing his load. What was wrong with him? It must be because Karen hadn't put out in about a month. He was so sex deprived he was thinking about some weird twisted shit, that's all. He made his way to the computer and opened up Safari. He was able to print as Karen had suggested. He was about to close the computer when he noticed the history button. He felt butterflies and a twinge in his groin. His now soft cock was slowly growing to the point where the tip was touching the wet spot where pre-cum had oozed out a few minutes before.
"One quick glance. I need to make sure he's staying out of trouble" he told himself in a whisper.
He didn't realize it, but as he dragged the mouse and clicked, he had held his breath. His dick was growing faster now...
Nothing. No history to show. The only item was the website he printed the tickets from.
"Damn," he thought, "he would have used in-private mode, or deleted everything anyway. I always do." He x-ed out of Safari and was about to turn off the laptop when he noticed the Chrome icon in the bar at the bottom of the screen. Hadn't Trevor told him to use Chrome instead of Internet Explorer? Maybe this was his preferred browser.
He hadn't even had to check the history to see what his son was looking at. Trevor apparently hadn't closed out of the window after his last jerk session. The site that he favored was one Brock knew very well. It was Nifty.org. Yes it had Lesbian stories, but he knew that was not what his son had come to this site for.
Rubbing his cock underneath his jeans, Brock clicked on the history icon, this time confident he would find something. He bet it was "First Time" stories, or "High School" stories. What he saw instead almost made him blow his load in his pants then and there. "Incest" was the category he preferred. "Dad has Needs", "My son Jared", "My Dad and Me". While he was imagining his son jerking off, his son seems to have been imagining him jerking off, or more. He didn't know how to feel about this. He felt wrong, so dirty. But deep down, something about this felt so right
"Brock, are you ready to go? We're gonna be late!"
He closed the computer and decided he would never think about this again. He was just sex deprived he had already decided. Getting laid was all he needed to get rid of these nasty thoughts.
But later that night, as he pounded his wife with a zeal he hadn't had in many many years, he closed his eyes and all he could think about was his son's cock. Pumping, pumping, pumping.
***Chapter 1***
"Are you just getting up now? It's like almost 12," his daughter Jacqueline said reproachfully over his shoulder.
Brock turned to see Trevor plodding down the stairs rubbing the last bit of sleep out of his eyes. He was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. To Brock's dismay, he had waited to come downstairs after his morning wood had subsided. Or he could have already jerked off to some more incest stories before making his way down. This thought made Brock smile.
"Whatdarthose?" Trevor said squinting in the almost noon light, pointing at the two small suitcases next to the door to the garage.
"Duh, Dad got us two tickets to a spa upstate for Mom's birthday. We're leaving in a few minutes and coming back tomorrow night." Brock had purchased the tickets two weeks ago, the day after he saw his son's computer history.
"If it's for Mom's birthday, why are you going?" Trevor asked, matching Jacqueline's condescending tone.
"Because if she brought you, you'd stink up the place." she said. Brock rolled his eyes, but grinned. His daughter was 16 and his son was 18, but sometimes they acted like they were 6 and 8 instead. Although, Jacqueline did have a point. Trevor seemed to exude that sexy smell of musk and old gym clothes like most 18 year old boys.
"Jacqueline, cut it out. I'm just bringing Jacqueline because your father said it would be fun to have a guys' weekend." Brock noticed Trevor flushed a little bit at this. "Which I think starts right now. It looks like traffic is clearing up so we should head out."
Brock had Trevor load the two suitcases into his wife's Audi. They stood at the base of the driveway and waved them off.
"Alright," he said turning to Trevor. "We got the place to ourselves, what do you wanna do?"
"I dunno, what were you thinking?" Trevor was looking at his feet as he said this. His face was completely red. Brock grinned knowingly, also at his feet.
"Well, get inside and go from there." He put his arm around Trevor's shoulder and the two walked back into the house.
***Chapter 2***
"So, I was thinking, your Mom left us some leftovers, but instead I say we eat pizza all weekend, watch football, maybe play some videogames, and walk around in our underwear. How's that sound for a guys' weekend?"
Trevor immediately perked up. His blue eyes sparkled, and he could see the excitement in them. He scratched his jet black hair, still in the style of bed-head-chic. "Yeah that sounds pretty awesome."
Brock did not need to be told twice. He pulled the polo he had been wearing off over his head. He had always had a beefy muscular frame, and even though he didn't get to the gym as often as he'd have liked to, he still retained his large pecs, rippling biceps, and meaty thighs and calfs, a product of wrestling in high school and college. Even now, at 43, he was proud of his body, even though his six pack had been gone many years and beers ago. His entire chest and belly was covered in a thick mat of black hair, almost concealing the bear print tattoo on his right pectoral. He unbuckled his belt and pulled down his shorts. He had been sure to chose his tightest, shortest pair of boxer-briefs. They were black and perfectly accentuated his bubble butt. It also perfectly framed his bulge. The outline of his dick and balls were clearly visible, pushing against the tight fabric, begging to be set free. He was still soft, but at 5 inches flaccid, it was still clearly visible.
For a split second, he noticed his son eyeing his package. He was still somewhat worried that he had interpreted everything wrong and his son would just think he was sick and perverted, but the look of hunger in his son's blue eyes relaxed him a little.
After he tore his eyes away from Brock's crotch, Trevor too started undressing. He pulled off his t-shirt first. He had the same build as his father. He was muscular for his age, and still growing. His football coach was proud to say that he put in more time and effort at the gym than anyone else on the team. While his body type was similar to Brock's, his coloring was more that of his mother. He had jet black hair, blue eyes, light skin, whereas Brock had brown hair and eyes, and his complexion was that of his southern European ancestors. Trevor's cream colored skin made the dark hair on his chest stand out even more. The last time he had seen Trevor shirtless was last summer, and he was delighted to see that in the few months since, the small patch of hair in the center of his chest had spread out to cover most of his pecs, and around his pink nipples, which were erect.
It looked like he buzzed his chest, but hadn't done so in a few weeks. The hair trailed down over his well defined abs ending in a healthy bush that was peeking just over the waistband of his sweatpants. Brock was happy to see he had left his pubes au naturale.
Next, Trevor put his thumbs under the elastic waistband and pulled down the sweats to his ankles. Brock was half hoping he had been going commando, and was slightly disappointed to see his son favored boxers. Oh well, he thought, at the right angle, maybe I'll be able to see into the flap.
He could feel blood start heading to his dick and decided to take a seat at the kitchen table. He didn't want to scare his son with his boner. Not until he was sure that is what Trevor wanted.
Trevor followed suit, and for a little while they discussed normal father son things. How he felt about the upcoming baseball season, how his Spanish class was going, how things were with his girlfriend Becky. When a comfortable silence came between them, Brock knew it was time to continue with his plan.
"You know what else I love doing when I have the house to myself?" He asked his son.
"What?"
"Hooking my laptop up to the TV in the family room and watching porn. You ever see sex on a 60 inch screen?"
His son's face blushed, but he also smiled.
"Nah, I've never seen that before, but that would be awesome!"
"Great! What kind of porn do you like to watch?" Brock's voice almost cracked from nerves as he asked this question, but his son took no notice. He seemed to be very interested in the pattern of the table cloth all of a sudden.