All characters 18+
*****
He lit the joint and stuck it between is big, pink lips. The smoke rose from his mouth up and around his jaw and nose, all while looking at me. "He's thinking about me," I thought. "He's analyzing me."
He pulled the bone from his lips but kept it between his fingers, wasting away a fine, milky white smoke.
"Pass it, you're letting it burn," I told him and held out my fingers. But all he did was pull off his sun glasses and hang them on the neck of his shirt. A few wisps of pitch black hair sprung out. Beneath his white t-shirt, his large chest pressed against the wet fabric. His nipples were firm and wide-set, like they ought to be. I wanted a body like him. I always did.
He caught me staring at his chest. A little smile crossed his mouth, but something about it told me he didn't want me to see it. "If he stares at me, I can stare at him all I want," I thought. He passed me the joint and I took it.
I was already feeling nice and warm when he finally spoke the first thing to me in hours. We had been doing yard-work for seven hours, gardening, mowing, watering, painting... And when we worked hard, we did so in silence.
"You worked well, Horus," he told me. "Even in this heat, we got a lot done."
He ushered me to give him back he joint. It was cherry flavoured rolling paper, and I knew that was his favourite. So I gave it back.
"Thank you, dad." I said.
"I'm going to take the clothes off the line. Finish the bone." He took a last toke and handed it back to me, and I offered to take care of the clothes but he ignored me. By the time I was finished the joint, the clothes were off the line and dad was inside. I was high as hell and I needed water.
I went inside and got myself water. I decided I would read a book in my room, but when I tried to couldn't focus. Maybe it was because I was stoned or because my cock was pressing hard against my blue jeans. But I decided I wouldn't read.
A stack of freshly dried clothes were laying on my desk. While storing them, I noticed a pair of navy blue underwear that weren't mine. "My dad's," I thought. Nobody else lived in the house but the two of us. I thought of telling him, but a part of me told me I shouldn't.
My cock grew even bigger and pulsed even harder beneath my jeans. I never thought like this before, but something about the thought of wearing them flicked a switch inside of me. I decided to take them to the bathroom and put them on. I didn't want him to catch me.
I stripped nude in front of a mirror in the bathroom. Come to think of it, my body did look a lot like my father's. We both played rugby for over a decade, and so we were built like true men. I unfolded the underwear and slipped them on. Instantly, I was filled with excitement and arousal. The idea that these touched my dad's penis almost made me cum. "What should I do with them?" I thought. What would happen if I jizzed in them? "I'll just throw them in the hamper."
I started to stroke my pulsing shaft over the fabric. I pulled them up high so that they hugged my balls and ass. My own dad's cock came and sweat in these. Though, I thought how much better it would be if they weren't washed. "Next time, I'll pick them fresh from the hamper."
I pulled my nine-incher from the dick slit and rubbed it gently against my palm. I wondered if my penis looked the same as his. I imagined him stroking his as I was doing now, and thrusting himself hard inside me through the dick slit of the same pair I was wearing. I was about to ejaculate on the pair before a loud knocking came from the hallway.
"You gonna' be long?" My dad asked.
"No," I shouted.
I pondered for a moment whether I should cum or wait until later. If I waited, I would have a bigger cum load. So I kept on dad's underwear, threw mine in the hamper, put on my clothes and left the bathroom. Outside the door, my dad stood close and shirtless, dashingly handsome and smelling ripe of man, so I assumed he would shower.
Later that evening he asked me if I wanted to watch a movie. He still hadn't clothed and was wandering around in a single pair of tight, grey Calvin Kleins, which he rarely did. It outlined his cock and ass beautifully when I dared to look. He had a magnificent round butt and at least a seven-incher, soft, cupped by the thin material. He was acting strange, and I knew it was because he was feeling lonely and horny. It was often he came home with friends from work, but rare that he came home with women. I obliged to watch a movie, but asked why he chose not to wear clothes.
"It's hot, don't you think? It's mid-July, boy, we should both be stripped naked!"
"It is hot," I replied. And he reckoned we should strip... My father made weird and generally inappropriate comments often, but they always made me smile. "I could at least remove my shirt," I thought.
He sat on the couch as I bent over to put Pulp Fiction in the DVD player. I recommended it to him as I'd seen it a number of times and he never did. I took off my shirt and sat on the couch right beside him. He was manspreading as if it was none of my business, and though I was cautious to look, I knew that his manhood was pressing firm against his underwear.
I was still insanely stoned and I gathered he was just as stoned as me.
"It's much hotter than that, boy," he told me. "Does he really want to see me in my underwear?" I thought. "Or his underwear, rather."
Without truly questioning, given how hungry I was for daddy dick, I obeyed and took off my pants. As I was about to remove my long, black socks, he stopped me.
"Not as hot as that, boy."
So I obeyed.
I could tell by the end of the movie he was lost, or he simply didn't care. He hadn't noticed, however, that I was wearing his briefs. So he couldn't have been looking at me the whole time.
"That was a long fucking movie," he told me. "But I liked it well enough." He stuck his hand unexpectedly into his underwear and adjusted his package. So I chose this moment to finally say something about his odd behaviour.
"You have to do that in front of me?" I asked.
"I can do damn well whatever I please. If my balls need adjusting, I will adjust them. And you're my son, you shouldn't care about stupid little things like that."
And he was right. I didn't even mind him touching himself, really. I just needed to know why. Did he want me? My heart was beating so quickly I felt it in my throat. Before I could reach out my hand and place it on his cock he stood up and went to bed. I remained on the couch for a few hours browsing porn on my phone and rubbing myself. I remembered only as I was about to cum that I was supposed to saving my semen for a bigger load.
It was not long before I decided that I would not spill a single drop of seed on myself. I would do anything and everything in my power to get my father to have sex with me, and only then would I release myself.
My first attempt, I decided, would be to get him to see me naked. "To see his son's penis for himself," I thought." And that will show me whether he truly wants me or if he's just casually horny. So that night, I chose to sleep briefless on the couch. The first thing he would see when he stepped into the lounge tomorrow is me sprawled out, ready for whenever he needed me. Surely the sight of me will have his cock pulsing in no time.
The next morning I awoke to a tapping on my shoulder. It was my father asking me if I wanted sausages for breakfast. A morning stubble lined his square jaw and traced above his pink lips. He didn't even ask me to clothe myself, but he did notice that it was his navy blue underwear on the carpet.
"Are those mine?" He asked me.
"I don't know," I replied, "They were on my desk with the rest of the clean clothes."
He was still in the same underwear as last night, and nothing but. His package, though, I noticed, was erect. It could have simply been morning wood, but that usually goes away once you're out of bed. His cock was pressing against the dick slit, and when he turned around the fabric was wedged between his ass cheeks.
He cooked breakfast as I admired his figure. His back muscles rippled with every move, and his moist, tanned skin glowed in the rays of morning light peaking through the kitchen window. "A true man." I thought, "Making his boy some breakfast." I couldn't help but admire every inch of his body when he wasn't looking. Though a part of me still told me he wanted me to look.
I remained naked as we ate breakfast in silence. "Today will be even hotter, I heard," I told him.
"Is that why you're naked?" He laughed.
"Last night was hot as hell, dad. Don't you remember.
"I remember. My balls are even sweatier than last night." He adjusted himself again, only he kept his hand there for longer.
My dick rose slowly under the table, and I stroked it subtlely as I forked a sausage. Both of our hands were on our manhoods as we finished our breakfast, but dad released his hand and put his plate in the dishwasher before me. I continued to stroke my cock, even in his full sight. I wanted to cum. I needed to cum. And I'm sure he did, too.
