Like Father, Like Son

Winnie the Pooh had his blustery day. I had a whole fucking blustery week. High winds blasting out of the north swirling candy wrappers across parking lots, chilling me to the bone every time I left the warmth of my RV. Damn, I hated March in Western Kansas.

The only reason to be here was not worth this aggravation. Gary had called, real pain and pleading in his voice, asking me to please come hold his hand. He'd had another run in with the law. Dad to the rescue. So here I was, shivering, waiting for a call from the lawyer we'd seen earlier in the week. Actually Gary was waiting for the call. Me, I'm just waiting for Gary to tell me when the lawyer calls and what the lawyer says about his predicament. Waiting with a raspy throat and runny nose that always attacks when I get trapped into being in weather that shrivels my balls and makes me dream of sun and sand.

What made it all worse, much worse, was Gary himself. At twenty one he was still such a juvenile at times. Adult and fun to talk with other times. Just the typical male gender offspring. Actually, not quite so typical. What can you say about a son that is willing to discuss the most intimate details of his life with his own father and had since he was sixteen. At that age he was trying to make a choice about his sexuality. Somehow, with his mother gone, I blundered into open honest discussion about his choices.

When he raised some very pointed questions I told him I knew what I was talking about because I'd had the same problem at his age. So over two, then a few more, cold beers he learned his dad had been bisexual before the marriage. Not that I poured out all the gory details. But he got the picture. The one thing that he didn't ask and I didn't offer information on was my sex life since the marriage.

Gary admitted to some encounters with a few guys. He was as cautious as I had been. No details offered. No probing inquiries on my part. At the time he had a hot thing going with a blonde that was a screamer. My cracks the next morning about her vocal accompaniment one night was what got us into that conversation. I'd had my eye on her older and, I was quite sure, more worldly brother. It was all just imaginative fantasy on my part. No way was I risking those siblings talking about our family's sexual proclivities, or making comparative notes on father vs son in bed.

Ever since that morning though Gary had kept me aware of his sexual adventures. He would introduce me to he latest 'friend' and at some later point ask me what I thought, usually after giving me some background on him or her. The clear intent the first couple of times was that he was trying to shock me. Actually, he did but I wasn't going to let him know. Stayed very calm and analytical and, without him knowing, turned on by the whole experience.

Over the years we stayed parent and child in all our relationships except that one. When it came to discussing his conquests, loves and lusts we grew to be just two bisexual male friends. The younger turned to the older for guidance and advice which made for a very unusual family relationship. Somehow we keep that part of our father son roles totally isolated from everything else. At eighteen, he started being pretty graphic about what he was experiencing. Actually that change was gradual. Initially the background information he had provided was more typical: age, schooling, parents' occupations, stuff like that.

The first time he experienced giving and receiving head from his blonde he had asked beforehand about what to expect. Nothing more explicit was mentioned until that summer when he told me his current male buddy was into sucking cock, too. When he turned seventeen he grilled me about rimming. By then he was seeing a busty red head three times, sometimes more, a week. He was also spending one or two nights with the quarterback of our high school football team. Usually they slept over at our place. I wasn't sure whether one or the other, or both, were to receive the benefit of what we discussed about oral stimulation of the anus. I did know that he got the full benefit of my experience. I was as honest and graphic as I could bring myself to be, again without revealing just how horny this discussion was making his old man.

Based on what I heard the next two evenings when Brad stayed over I'd say for sure those two went to sleep with well licked ass holes and limp dicks. As far as the red head it was impossible to know the action that prompted the sex sounds the next time she was in bed with Gary. She was a low moaner when aroused. All I can say is he kept her humming for hours and they both wore happy grins at breakfast.

Only one other time during his seventeenth year did he get specific. Plopped down on the sofa he asked me to turn off the TV. He'd met a new guy at the local athletic club, described him, told me all the usual background about him. Rusty, 19, was from a small town just north of us. He blurted out that they had already jacked off together, in the steam room. I raised my eyebrows and gave him my best 'so what' look. What came next I'd been expecting, sometime, just not then. Gary informed me that Rusty was a real straight acting, athletic, hunky guy and wanted Gary to fuck him. What Gary wanted to know was how it felt from both perspectives with a guy: being the fucker and being the fuckee. My immediate reaction was to question why he wanted to know about both although I had a damn good idea what his answer was going to be.

Gary looked me right in the eye and told me. He knew how it felt to have sex with a woman, a young woman that is. He grinned at me. What he wanted to know was if it was different doing it to a guy and, more importantly, just why a guy would want to let someone do it to him. His questions were direct and to the major points: what about feces, didn't it hurt, did it leave your ass hole out of shape? Obviously he was more interested in understanding the fuckee role. I asked if this new 'friend' Rusty was also wanting to do it to him. Hell, yes, even with everything that had transpired I could not bring myself to actually say 'does he want to fuck you?'.

Gary shook his head and mumbled a low 'no way, dad'. He lowered his eyes and then locked his eyes with mine and explained that Brad had been hinting around for quite a while and he was seriously considering taking the next step and letting Brad fuck him just to find out what it was like and whether or not he liked it. Gary wanted to go ahead with Rusty as the first act. Figured he would learn something from Rusty's reactions. We talked. It was nearly midnight before I'd run out of things to say, explaining, cautioning, not encouraging or giving my blessing.

He never did tell me about the direct results of that evening's talk. I do know that he and Rusty were fuck buddies clear up until that farm boy took off for State U. Gary has gone up there a few weekends since. He's been open about the fact that Rusty is his to fuck whenever he wants just like Joan, the red head, who's also at State. Since Brad graduated and went off to Texas A and M mid year when Gary was 17 I'm not privy to whether that was the guy that got Gary's cherry. By the time he was telling me everything it was a given that he was a fucking versatile sex machine: enjoying eating twat, sucking cock, rimming ass holes without regard to sex, fucking pussy, fucking both male and female butt and having his own tight hole licked, sucked and plugged with hard cocks as well as dildos, manual and electric.

The most amazing thing out of those years of bisexual companionship with my son is the fact that not once did he indicate he knew, or cared, just how turned on the old man got as a result of our talks. That and not ever getting caught by him when I retired afterwards to the bathroom or my bedroom. Not that I didn't have other releases during those years. But, dad sure stroked himself dry getting rid of the raging hard on he got almost every time we had one of those sessions. Even worse, as he grew older I could look at him and see myself and also see a damn desirable young man.

When Gary turned twenty I told him he was on his own. I sold the old homestead and invested the profits in a RV, my home on wheels. He wanted to take off with me. We had a big father son argument over that idea. I told him he hadn't earned retirement. He was settled in his own apartment and was doing right by his job when I left. Then I get that call for help. What the fuck's a dad to do?

When I pulled up in front of the apartment and honked he was waiting, rushed out to the RV, jerked open the door, dragged me out and locked me in a bear hug. Gary had become physically my equal: same height, near the same weight, same color eyes, lush brown locks instead of dad's gray, 32 inch waist vs my 36. Damn, I nearly lost it right then and kissed him he looked so appealing, felt so right locked in my arms. Do you get the picture?

What had happened while I had been gone was a lot of replaying of memories that lead to a lot more building of fantasies. These were fantasies that I didn't want, didn't need fucking up my life. Hell, I'd made some good connections in my travels since leaving him on his own. The only thing was, almost every guy I'd made it with over the past year had been in his 20s, slim, brown hair, brown eyes: fucking substitutes for my own son. I'd not realized that until I settled in at the campground that first night back home.

That's when I knew that dad had a problem and started hedging just how long I could stick around. At 21 my son was even more a temptation that any of the memories of him at 16, 17, 18, 19 or 20. This aggravation I did not need. There were plenty of sexually willing and desirable individuals of both sexes just begging me to drop by the next time I was in the area all across the U S of A. I had been enjoying my travels. Not only for the sexual adventures but traveling, being 'foot loose and fancy free', not having to account to anyone or pre plan for anything. I had the itch to get back on the road. Except when I was with Gary. Then the itch was of a totally different kind.

I kept in touch with most of my traveling 'companions' via phone and e-mail. Everyone was sympathetic and supportive. They knew I was being celibate and a good father. I had not and did not open up about Gary to any of them, except Harry. Somehow my defenses had been down one night with him and in that afterglow it slipped out. Maybe it was because Harry was the exception to my usual Gary stand ins. He was nearly my own age. Our relationship was open but we trusted each other right from the first night (actually afternoon that lasted into the night).

That was what fucked up the whole thing. It was the seventh day of the wild northern wind chill. Gary had come out to spend the day with his dad. I'd promised Harry I'd call. All I had done on arrival was to give him a quick 'I made it' call. I was at the campground's pay phone and had just got through to Harry when Gary strode by on the way to the john. He gave me a shot on my arm as he passed. I heard the door slam as the wind caught it. I forgot about the open ventilation window in the wall right above the phone. In this cold weather I guess I just assumed it would be shut. Didn't check. I should have.

Harry was all full of what had been happening, with who, since I left his hometown. He also was curious about how I was standing up under the strain of being back with Gary. It happened again. Even over the phone I felt closer and able to be totally myself with Harry. I told him about the welcome hug, how it churned my gut, how even more handsome my son looked, what I'd finally realized about the 'boys' I'd been fucking with on the road, why I though I'd have to move on maybe even before Gary's current legal problem was resolved.

Harry got a real chuckle out of my confession. Asked me how the hell did I know that Gary didn't feel the same way about me. My voice was hard and loud as I denied any possibility of that being true. I stated quite firmly the fact that no way was I going to get involved in an incestual relationship, the idea was just too weird -- and it just wasn't right. My parting comment was about just what I was saving up for him when I got back.

I hung up. As I did a hand grasped my arm and tugged me around. There stood Gary with an extremely serious face. His eyes were bright but nearly brimming. Oh, Shit, I though. He nodded toward where the RV was parked, turned and walked away. My stomach cramped and I felt light headed. With my head buzzing, nearly ready to loose my lunch, I followed. He didn't get in the car and drive away. He opened the door, stepped in the RV. The wind whipped the door out of his hand as he started to close it. I grabbed it before it slammed into the side of the RV, stood just inside and pulled it shut behind me.

"You heard." I stated, standing in the well, fearing his answer, not wanting to move on in or look up at him.

"Come here, dad." He was sitting on the couch against the far wall. As he spoke he patted the cushion beside him.

With trepidation I stepped into the room and like a zombie moved to sit where he had requested. I still could not lift my eyes to look at my son. His arm reached behind me and came to rest lightly across my back. His hand gripped my shoulder firmly.

"Is it true?"

I couldn't speak, just nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

My shoulders shrugged.

"Why not?"

I turned my head slowly and gradually lifted my eyes. He was looking at me with the same intensity I had seen by the phone. Tears were now creeping down his cheeks. He blinked. His head shook slowly indicating his total disbelief in what he now knew about his father, me.

"You weren't ever . . . I couldn't . . . it's wrong of me . . ." I stuttered, knowing things would never be the same, sure in my heart that I no longer had a son.

"Is it wrong of me, to?"

"What?" I gasped.

"Is it wrong of me to want you sexually? I have . . . for years."

It was like he had driven his fist into my gut. I couldn't breath. I clasp my hands in my lap to control the trembling that started with my arms and quickly made my entire body begin to shudder.

"You don't believe me? Check this out, you old fool." He wrenched one hand free and with his on top laid it flat on his crotch. There was no doubt about what I felt. His cock was rock hard, throbbing. He tensed his buttocks, let his legs open, pressing one against mine, and hunched his stiffness against my hand.

It was an automatic reaction on my part. My hand closed in to cup and squeeze. A soft whispered 'Oh, Yea' came from between the lips of the young man seated next to me. His hand reached across and undid the top button on the cords I was wearing, fingers pinched the zipper tab and tugged it down as far as it would go.

"Gary! No!" I whimpered while my body said 'yes'. My legs also opened, hips lifting to allow him to slide his hand under the waistband of my boxers. His fingers touched flesh and then closed around my prick as it swelled in automatic reaction to the slow manipulation.

"I want you. You want me. We want each other. Don't fight it, dad. Please!" He was leaning toward me. His tongue moved in a deliberate teasing lick across his top lip. Our eyes were saying things no father and son should ever say to each other. "Kiss me. Make love with me. No more talking about it, dad. Do it!"

We shifted and our lips touched. I was still shuddering, but it wasn't fear anymore, it was . . . it was lust, pure, hot, passionate, unadulterated sexual fever. My arms were around him. One hand lifted to cradle the back of his head, fingers locking in his soft brown hair. His tongue darted out and pressed between my lips. From deep within me a moan rumbled and escaped as I opened my mouth. "Oh, Shit," I muttered. My arm flexed pressing my hand hard, driving his lips grinding against mine. Our tongues touched, speared in and out, exploring, fighting. His breath was sweet. His mouth was sweet. His tongue was sweet.

Gary's hands were busy tugging my shirt out of my pants. With almost identical fierceness I began to disrobe him. We got rid of the shirts and then had to pull apart as both tee shirts were stripped off over our heads. We grappled for each other and locked lips again. This time it was a series of slow, deep, rolling, teasing kisses.

I moved to press our chests together, rubbing, hugging, grasping his back. His hands were stroking my bare flesh, back, sides. One slid between us to tingle as his fingers brushed my nipples, pinched, pressed on them. His other hand moved down from my waist to massage my butt. It returned to my waist and shoved inside the gap between flesh and my pants and boxers. I lifted up and it slid on down to again massage my butt. I separated enough without letting our lips part to let my hands eagerly begin working on his belt, then opened his jeans.

Moving from his lips I kissed his eyes, the tears salty on my tongue. When I leaned to lick and nibble on an ear, my son's ear, I knew I was dreaming. This couldn't be. But it was. "Want to . . . the bed," I whispered in that ear.

"Thought you'd never ask, you stud. You do know I love you don't you?" His voice was husky.

"Not this way. I didn't. I do now."

We stood side by side and finished, kicking off shoes, removing socks, pants and underwear.

I lifted his balls in one hand while the other stroked his flank from under his arm down to his knee. He stood still, his head thrown back, repeating over and over softly 'Oh, Yes! Oh, Yes!'.

He straightened. Tears were still glistening on his cheeks as he let his eyes move up and down. They moved with a deliberate pace as if he was memorizing what he saw. An evil grin crept onto his face along with a sparkling in his eyes.

"Don't cry, baby," I crooned as I took a finger and brushed to tears.

"Dad, you just don't know. I'm so fucking happy." The grin got even bigger. "And . . . I think I'm going to get even more fucking happy. Or maybe happy . . . fucking!"

"You devil. You sure as hell are your father's son." I took a step and hugged him, letting our bodies collide. We were touching and feeling, our cocks thrusting against themselves, a private duel, a sensual rubbing.

Gary took a step backward, I moved forward keeping us connected. Another step. Another. We tumbled in a wild tangle of limbs, lips and cocks onto the bed. It groaned under the sudden weight. Gary chuckled and asked me if it could take the punishment.

"You think you're the first young stud I've had on this bed?"

"So, you devil. You sure are your son's father."

We lay in each others arms, laughing softly, kissing, fondling, finding our similarities and our differences. Settled side by side we began mutually masturbating, watching each other's facial reactions, stopping to look at the two family tools. It was amazing how similar we were. He had inherited more than just his eyes and hair from his old man. Both cocks were nearly 8 inches long, uncircumcised but with natural short foreskins and nearly identical in girth. Rolling on our sides to bring them closer together it was clear that my son had more meat on his boner than I did. Meat that his dad wanted to taste.

I rolled across Gary. Hanging over him I let my mouth continue the exploration that my hands had started. As I scooted down licking his neck and then nuzzling under his arms he started moaning 'Oh, Yes' again. He knew what was coming, laid still below me and let me attack his body with my lips and tongue. Licking across his chest to nuzzle under the right arm I only flicked my tongue on his nipples. Soon I returned though to suck and lick them, turning them into hard nubs begging to be chewed. His hands rested on my shoulders now and pressed softly guiding me lower and lower across his tense belly. At his navel I captured the first tufts of brown hair between my teeth, growled and tugged. 'Oh, Yes. Fuck, Yes' he groaned.

"69, dad. 69, please," he rasped as I started following that trail of silky brown hair. I swiveled around until my cock hung over his face. When I lightly kissed and then licked his dickhead, I felt his lips close over mine. He teased over it, around it, poked with the tip of his tongue at the slit as it leaked. My own lips clamped onto his knob and I sucked it, savoring the taste of his juices as they also started flowing. Without a word we rolled, repositioning, arms encircling hips, mouths opening wide, sucking, thrusting. It was like giving myself the most fantastic blow job. Like I'd been able to do way back when I was 16 and limber. He hugged me and shoved letting my cock slide. I could feel it gliding in, all the way, through his mouth and into his throat.

I opened wide, sucked hard and drove him into me with my hands shoving his ass. It was almost too much. He had taken me, all of me. I had to do the same. I gagged once, took a deep breath around that hot thrusting column of man flesh and shoved again. It filled my mouth, found the hole at the back and popped in.

We drew back, went wild sucking dickhead and then, in a mystical union, thrust. Both dicks were swallowed totally with gulping, slurping noises filling the RV. Somehow, some way we were one insane suck machine. Everything was in tandem. We both reached to jack and suck at the same time. We went nose into balls together, letting throat muscles milk and grip, milk and grip. His cock was swelling, growing even thicker and harder. I could feel the same thing happening to me.

The hands resting on our asses began to stroke as we plugged each other's oral orifices. Fingers slid into the cracks, searching, touching, teasing against two rectums. After each thrust, asses pressed back, fingers sunk in, wiggling. Four holes were now being penetrated and teased, bodies thrashing, sex sounds growing louder.

Together we reached, touched those triggers, rammed deep, and then again, deeper. I stroked his prostate as his fingers pulsed across mine and with one mutual but muffled yell we blasted off. Sucking, swallowing, I was feeling my own cum, no my son's cum, gush into my throat as I dumped my load. I rocketed, spewing, swallowing, holding him captive as he spurted, and spurted again, and again. Never before had I felt as full and as empty at the same time. We both kept gulping, milking each other for every drop. Even as our cocks grew flaccid we kept sucking, wanting more, not wanting it to be over. But it was. For the moment.

We rested. Side by side again we kissed, letting the tastes of the cum from father and son mingle in our mouths.

"I love you, Gary, baby, son."

"I know. I always knew. Hoped. Prayed."

It was impossible to keep my hands still. That body was so tempting, so mine yet his. Lightly I traced every plain of that face with a finger. He winked and stuck out his tongue. I hummed and leaned across, sucking it into my mouth. We played suck face and body tickle for nearly fifteen minutes. I was slowly getting hard again as the hot blood pounded into my loins. The kid had achieved a raging boner just minutes after we started kissing again. Ah, youth. I thumped it with a finger. It jumped and grew even bigger. Just watching my son's cock grow hard and knowing it was because of desire for me, turned me on. He reached down and fondled me, helping me along, watching as I also grew long and hard.

"I want you to make love to me, dad. Never did tell you. I let Brad. I liked it. Actually . . . " he paused, tugged on my now fully engorged cock, " . . . I like it a lot. I'd rather be fucked than anything else." He was watching me, trying to read my reaction. My son was telling me he was a pussy boy and wasn't sure how I would take his admission of this fact about his sexual interests.

"You still do a little fucking yourself, right, kid? Or have you been shitting me?"

"Aw, hell, dad. I like it all. Just, my ass needs are greater than my dick needs. You upset?"

"No. Never with you. You're my boy . . . in every way now."

"Yes, sir," he whispered in my ear, as he licked and nibbled on it, just like I had done to him.

"You willing to return the favor, baby?"

He raised up on an elbow and looked at me. That evil grin crept across his face again. "Fuck my old man? Hell yes, dad. Who goes first?"

"Hey, you little shit, you asked first. You get fucked first. Got a preference?" My cock was fully at attention now and throbbing. Gary had one leg thrown over mine, his knee nudging my cock. My hand was resting, fingers slowly circling, on his chest as it moved up and down with his breathing.

"Whatever you want, just as long as you give it to me long, hard and deep."

"You slut," I said with a soft gurgling laugh.

"Your slut."

"Get that ass in the air, boy. Dad's going to give you a real going over starting doggy style." With that said, I scrambled in the box I kept under the bed bringing out a string of rubbers and the lube.

"Gees. My old man, the sex fiend. What else you carry?"

"Wear me out and I'll bring out some toys to keep you humping, baby." A picture of us with the double dong dildo joining our humping asses flashed. This kid was bringing out the best, or worst, in me, I though as I ripped open a prelubed condom and rolled in on.

Gary had assumed the position, on his knees, ass high, head down resting on his crossed forearms. I squeezed lube in his crack and smeared a gob on my cock. With one hand I spread the coolness down on and into his ass hole while the other hand anointed my now eagerly jumping prick. Kneeling behind him I shifted his legs wider with my knees, lined up and laid my coated glans right on his pucker.

"You ready? Think you can take all of it?" I stroked my hands along his sides, letting the left over lube slick his flanks. Leaning in and down I kissed the middle of his back. He shivered.

"Always ready for you. Since I was seventeen. Know I can take it, dad. 'Cause it's your cock and I want it. Hell, dad, I need it. Give it to me." With that he thrust his body back and my rubber coated head popped in, splat, just like it belonged in that hole. Not that I wasn't pushing. But he initiated our joining.

"Oh, damn. Oh, yes. Oh, fuck me, dad. Fuck me! NOW!"

When a guy is that insistent, even if it is your own kid, what else can you do? I took hold of those hips and pulled as I shoved with my hips. My cock went in, and in, and in and I crashed against his butt cheeks. One long low moan came from down below, joined by my own sigh of contentment. I was in as far as in can be and this ass was pulsing, squeezing my cock, driving me wild right from the start.

"Christ, son, where the hell did you learn that ass action? You are fantastic."

He wiggled his ass, turned his head and stuck out his tongue again. "Been practicing for you for five fucking years, you old stud. You going to fuck or just talk my ass off?"

That was the end of any conversation. Little devil. I slowly pulled out leaving just the tip kissing and then rammed home. Did it again. And again. And again. 'Oh, yes!' came his grunting acceptance of my action. Gradually I increased the tempo of my thrusting. He wanted to be fucked. He was going to get fucked.

Every time I felt even the start of a climactic tingle I slowed, or stopped with my cock shoved all the way up my humpy boy's shit chute. He knew what I was doing. That talented ass never pulsed when I was working to keep from cumming. He just moaned softy and asked me politely for more, when I was ready, please.

He got more. I got him on to the side of the bed, rolled him on his side, lifted his top leg high and plowed in. From there we went back to the middle of the bed, this time he was up on all fours. I humped and squeezed and humped harder. I was loving it and he made sure I knew he was too. Sliding down he let me stretch out on top of him not driving so deep but able to feel every tremor of his young body. Within ten minutes we were lying on our sides, me with my cock deep in his ass, spooned behind him, stroking his cock while we kissed with more passion than we had before. I came damn close to loosing it and finishing the whole exercise while we were kissing. He was the one that all of a sudden lay still and calmed me down.

I knew how I wanted to finish once I knew I was going to be fucking Gary. I wanted him on his back, legs in the air with me pile driving into his ass and watching his face. That's how we ended up. Him talking dirty to me, when he wasn't gasping for air. Me grunting, sweating, pounding his ass. I saw him grimace when I lifted his ass and drove deep, knew he was hurting, backed off. Heard him call me a putz, tell me he wanted it all, begging for me to drive it in.

"Fuck me like I told you, dad. Long. Hard. Deep. I can take it, old man. Give it to me."

The next time I hit bottom, he yelled. As I stroked back he grinned and nodded. He could barely speak but I hear him clearly. "That's it, dad. All the way in. Make me yell."

I'd never had a guy be such a glutton for punishment. Never had a guy be such a hot fuck. In all my years I was learning, from my son. It was what he wanted and as I pounded harder I found I wanted it too. I wanted him to never ever have anyone fuck him like he'd been fucked by his dad. I wanted to crash into him and slide up there, pulled inside him. I became all dick. Fucking harder, faster. Slamming into him over and over. Hearing him yell and whimper and beg for more. I was drenched with sweat. My whole body was tingling. My cock was raw.

Every thrust now I was groaning, knowing I couldn't stop. Hurting, burning, so full of love and passion. Needing to get off. Needing to please Gary. Again it seemed we were mystically joined. The pressure mounted. My thrusting became wild jack hammering. Together we both hit the peak. Cum flew out from the end of his bouncing cock splattering all over us. I yelled even louder than any he had uttered ejaculating inside his gripping, pulsing, grasping sheath. We collapsed. Spent.

It was three hours later when I came out of it. Gary was still asleep, a giant smile on his lips, my semi-limp dick still being sucked by his ass. I was amazed. Never knew it was possible. Limp dicks and the natural evacuation movement of the human colon do not allow for what was happening. Then again, this was Gary, my expert pussy boy son. Some fucking training he'd had, I mused.

The heat of his body as he slumbered warmed me. I hugged him close, snuggling tighter into his back. He squirmed and let out a sigh, his ass thrusting back. It was impossible not to react. As my blood pulsed in my head making my eyes water my cock began to stir. It slowly filled that gorgeous opening, stretching those willing lips as it plumped. Gary moved again, his back snaked against my chest, his love hole gave my lengthening cock a firm squeeze as his buttocks drew together.

My hand softly, gently made love to my son's body, stroking his chest, his arms, his abdomen. Reaching my fingers closed around his turgid dick. Awake or not, this young man's body was aroused. Lightly I stroked that handsome duplicate of my own cock. My lips traced butterfly kisses on the nape of his neck. On their own my loins moved to ever so slowly glide my now rigid dick within the wet warmth of my son.

"Hey, dad, no fair," his voice drifted out of the pillow, muffled but clear.

I licked up that corded column to press my lips against an ear. "All's fair, baby."

He moved quick, like a cat, leaving my cock twitching in the air, turning in my arms to face me. His cock flopped against mine. Again I looked into those eyes now sparkling bright. He slowly winked. The smile I had discovered when I woke was still there.

"No sloppy seconds this time, old man. It's time for your ass to get fucked." His eyes looked down, a nearly feminine flutter of his eyelids conveyed both a wish to tease and a slight fear of rejection. "If . . . you still want it?" The question was uttered so soft and low I could just make out what he said.

The moon was full that night. It gleamed through the back window behind me. His face and torso were lit with it's ghostly light shining like ivory. In the dark between us I felt his cock pulse against mine. I closed my arms, hugging him close, letting our mouths meet in a long sensual joining. We were both gasping for air when we parted. A guttural cry passed his lips as he crushed his pelvis into mine grinding as hard as our mouths had.

"Gary, baby, I'm yours. I want you connected to me any way, every way." The breath of my whisper set a wayward wisp of his soft brown hair fluttering on his brow. As he locked his arms around my waist and continued mashing our cocks together I kissed that brow, his nose, roaming with my lips all over his beaming face.

"Lay back, dad." He reached for the rubbers and the lubricant. "I'm going to fuck you. Not just because you make me horny as hell, old man. I'm going to fuck you because . . . because I love you." Sitting back on his heels between my spread eagle legs he deftly suited up. Lifting up on his knees he towered over me. In the moon light he was no longer ivory. He was flush and glowed, his cock a shinny red weapon in his hand. His face was pink, wreathed with darkness. He tossed his head as he leaned forward, planting his hands under my arms and his lips on mine. It was a gentle lover's kiss, filled with caring, filling me with a desire like none I had felt before.

When he lifted back up I was limp and trembling. I struggled to lift my legs, grasping under my knees. I rolled my ass up, holding my upper legs wide and tight against my chest. He let one index finger follow that valley from under my balls clear to the bottom of my spine. When it touched the hairs that circled my anus and then moved across, I was the one that moaned. "Oh, yes. There," I gasped.

Savoring my reaction Gary let that finger reverse its trip. The tube of lubricant was in his other hand. Laying the mouth against my hairy pucker he pressed it in and then squeezed. Cool. I shivered. Reaction to that temperature or anticipation. Maybe both. I uttered another gasping 'Oh, hell yes'.

"You do this a lot, you dirty old man?"

He had the evil grin back. His eyes were gleaming with the moon and an inner fire. He pressed his sheathed organ on his target . . . and lunged forward. His cock plunged into me, filling me. I could feel his dickhead when it seemed to collide with my diaphragm. I was impaled.

"OH, GOD!" I yelled. Catching my breath I gasped my reply. "Yes, but never like this. Never ever like this. Fuck your dad, Gary. Love your dad, Gary. Do it, baby." As he pulled out and then plunged into me again I yelled again. Then just a quickly as the agony had hit me it faded. I was filled with a warmth a sensual pleasure that made me ache for that cock to fill me again. "Do it," I begged.

Gary gave as good as he had got. Maybe even better. We didn't play around with switching positions. I couldn't have moved anyway, didn't want to, as he continued to stab into me over and over and over. Each penetration was like the last. Cramming me full with his cock he gave me pleasures that made me moan 'No' every time he withdrew. We were both quickly covered with sweat. It dripped off his nose onto my chest, pooled in my navel. My legs were now pinned by his arms. My hands gripped the edge of the mattress above my head as he slammed into me repeatedly, steadily, grunting with each deep thrust.

It was a slow steady and totally controlled fucking. Nothing like the wild rutting I had experience with Gary's substitutes. Youth is usually so intent on their own pleasure, getting in and getting off. This wasn't like that. I could tell. Even in the throws of passion that shook me I knew. Gary wasn't going for his pleasure alone. He was working to take me beyond any place I had ever been. Gradually, but with care, his pace quickened. At times now he pulled back and then just rocked tugging my ass lips in and out with the head of his cock. I was in heaven, praising him, letting him know how I was feeling, moaning, gasping, thrashing beneath him.

"You . . . like . . . my . . . action . . . dad?"

"Oh . . . shit . . . YES!" My heart was racing. Ever nerve ending in my body was on fire. He pulled free. Drove back in bouncing on my butt. "FUCK, YES" I yelled as he hit bottom. Then I crooned a high pitched 'ahhh' as he twisted and turned, shifting his weight, touching every organ within me with that hot poker.

My ass was on fire. My balls captured in a vice that clutched them tighter and tighter. Gary's cock was so broad that every stroke rubbed my prostate sending chills racing up and down my spine. I was floating, split wide by that fantastic, giant cock that I had fathered. Every time he shafted me again it felt bigger, thicker, longer. I wanted it to continue growing, spreading my ass wide so I could swallow him, let him crawl up inside me and become . . . Shit, that was wild. When I was fucking him I wanted inside him, now I wanted him inside me. Why not? We were one, the same flesh.

Gary lunged in again and collapsed on top of me his hips still grinding. We kissed, almost chastely. He snuggled down and spoke softy. "Can't last much longer. Can you?"

I moaned, a reaction to his continued probing, then said, "I'm ready when you are, you wild young thing."

"But not as wild as you use to be, I bet, huh, dad."

"Shut the hell up and finish what you started."

Shoving back up with his arms he looked at me and winked again. Grasping my legs he spread them wider and rolled my ass even higher. He surprised me with a slow insertion that sent tingles throughout me. I knew this time there would be no pauses, no teasing my hole with that swelled dickhead. He cruised in and out, driving deeper with each humping thrust. The tempo increased. We were both letting gasps of air, cries of passion, moans and groans escape each time we were fully joined. I watched as his lower body contorted, soon reaching the point were it was almost vibrating with his cock sliding in and out. The sensations roiled within me.

"Going . . . to cum. Aw . . . shit . . . dad. I'm . . . going . . . to cum."

"Do it!" I gasped feeling my own need mounting.

With two more wild thrusts Gary went stiff. His body trembled. Head thrown back he yowled as his cock deep inside me exploded. It felt like it grew twice its size. I felt the pulsing, the heat of each gushing as his seed burst loose. It triggered my own release. My cock leaped and cum spewed. Some splattered up on him to drip and fall back the rest jetted out onto my heaving belly. The first short burst lifted higher landing on my chin. That had not happened since I was in my twenties.

We lay side by side again, grinning at each other. Gary had licked the cum dripping off my chin and lower. I'd returned the favor and cleaned him. We'd just broken from a long tongue and cum sucking series of kisses.

"So, now what happens?"

"More of the same, I hope," I offered.

"Not that. You're such a dummy some times, dad. What about us, beside sex?"

"If I think I understand what you're asking . . . "

We were back to being father and son, not lovers. He was angling for a free ride with me. I wanted that, as his lover. Wanted it so bad. But, as his father, I knew better.

We ended up with a compromise. I plan things so I'm back home for a week or two every six months and when Gary has vacation. We don't stick around the wheat fields and cattle feed lots when he's on vacation. Not that it really matters. We're seldom out of the RV or off that bed except for calls of nature and for food. Now there's a place a father and son, or even lovers, can have conflicts. VeggieBurgers. I hate them. Diet pops. He hates them. Need I go on?