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Subject: Open Flame Here’s a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr/storytime. You can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here: http://a4f101.tumblr/post/137908985844/ You can also find a whole lot more of my stories here on Nifty – look for ‘a4f101’ in the Prolific Authors listing. This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2017. I own it and all legal rights to it. If you’re under the age of majority in your jurisdiction, please come back when you’re of legal age. Nifty is an incredible free service that depends on your donations to survive. It changed my life, and maybe it’s changed yours too. Please help them to keep providing this awesome resource for all of fty/donate.html I love hearing from you guys. hoo. Enjoy. ***** Brock and I stood at the top of the driveway, shovels in hand, and surveyed our work. The snow hadn’t been too bad so far, but we were in for a real pounding, so getting the driveway cleared and salted before the real stuff came was job one. I stretched, and grunted at the throb of my lower back. I was in good shape, especially for a guy in my mid-forties. I worked out three times a week, tried to be active every day. But still, I wasn’t as young as I used to be. Not as young and strong as Brock was, and a solid hour of manual labor had me feeling it now, all over. “You OK, big guy?” he said, giving me a concerned look. “Yeah, just ready to get indoors and be done with everything,” I said, grimacing as I twisted my torso slowly back and forth. “Go on ahead then, Dad,” he said, with that big, charming smile of his. “I’m gonna go clear Mrs Granger’s drive, then I’m done too.” I watched him trot across the street, admiring and proud as hell of my boy. He’d always been a good kid, polite and considerate, eager to help. Old Mrs Granger likely wasn’t going anywhere for the next few days anyhow, but Brock was that kind of boy. Well, that kind of man, now, I thought with a rueful smile as I watched him set to work, broad-shouldered and powerful, flinging snow smoothly and quickly like a human machine. Twenty minutes later, I was standing in the kitchen, taking the first sip of a fresh pot of coffee, watching the next round of snow starting to fall in the backyard, when he came in, rosy-cheeked and handsome as hell as he plucked his knit cap off. “Nice, fresh coffee,” he said, rubbing his hands eagerly, clapping my shoulder with his big hand as he stepped up to get a mug. I grunted a little at the throb in my shoulder, and he gave me that concerned look again. “I bet you could use a backrub,” he said, and I chuckled at the idea of it. “Nah, I’m serious,” he said with that big smile of his. “Nothing better after a workout. I just took this Kinesiology course last semester, and I think I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” I cleared my throat and looked away, my head full of pictures of big young Brock, slowly rubbing my body with his powerful hands. “Thanks, but I’ll be OK, bud,” I said. “I’ll just go take a shower and rub some liniment on…” “Bull,” he said firmly, giving me a flash of the man he was becoming. Strong. Decisive. Determined. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later, Dad. Go take that shower, and I’ll find some lotion or something.” He gave me that smile, and I could see he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I shrugged, grinned, finished my coffee, and headed for my bathroom. The thing is… something had happened when he was home over Christmas break. Something between us. We hadn’t talked about it since then, and I figured it had been one of those things. Sometimes, I had to convince myself it wasn’t just a fantasy – but no, it had happened. We’d gotten a little buzzed after he’d come back from his mother’s place Christmas night, unwrapping our gifts to each other by the fire, and I don’t know why, but he’d leaned in and kissed me. Quiet at first, but unmistakably intimate. And maybe it had been the bourbon, or just the overall good feeling I had inside, having my big, handsome kid back with me again, but I’d kissed him back. And we’d gone on from there. The sight of him down between my spread thighs, sucking on my cock, backlit by the fire, was imprinted on my memory for life. That, and the taste of his cock when I returned the favor, summoning up skills that I’d worried had gone a little rusty since my freewheeling college days. Apparently not, because he’d clutched my head and pumped a big, thick load of creamy college-boy cum down my throat, then kissed me deeply right after. And then we’d gone to bed, and the next day, it was like it had never happened. Sure, maybe he was a little more touchy-feely with me, slipping his arm around my waist and squeezing from time to time. Maybe he’d been waiting for me to make the first move, like I was waiting for him to do – but apart from the tender kiss he gave me at the door a few days later as he got ready to make the drive back to school, that had been it between us. So I tried not to think about all that, I really did, as I showered, but of course, my cock was long and thick and hardening as I soaped up my tired, achy muscles, fully hard by the time I was drying off. I had to take a minute and will my paternal hardon away, before I tugged my sweats and an old T-shirt gaziantep escort on. Then I sucked in a deep breath, gave myself a stern mental talking-to, and headed out to the living room. The fire was crackling, the room warm and cozy. And there Brock was, my son sprawled out on a blanket in front of it, stripped down to a lime-green pair of designer briefs I’d never seen on him before. Christ, he looked incredible. He always had, really, ever since his mid-teens, when I’d first started guiltily noticing him, and my cock had too. Big, hard-muscled all over, the body he’d built up playing football and baseball through high school honed even more in the college gym. He looked like a goddamn underwear model. My cock started to harden again. I swallowed hard, frozen in place, and then he looked up at me and smiled. “Hey… you ready?” he said, and I didn’t have the words. My mind certainly wasn’t ready, but my body apparently was, because I was nodding and stepping towards him before I knew what was happening. “You gotta lose the shirt, Dad,” he said with a little chuckle, tugging at the hem of it as I slowly kneeled down onto the blanket beside him. I just nodded dumbly again, starting to pull it up, but his hands were working with me, tugging the old soft shirt up and off, leaving me staring at him as I kneeled shirtless before him. His eyes moved over my body, the thickness of my shoulders, my chest, my solid stomach, still smiling that smile of his and nodding. “Damn, you’re in good shape,” he said approvingly, and then he put his big, warm hand on my shoulder and guided me to the floor, facedown. Taking control, quietly and confidently. Showing me he was a man now, as if there was any doubt about that anymore. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the shift happened, where I let my son take over and just went with him. Maybe that point where he helped pull my shirt off. More likely, it was when I walked into the room and saw him spread out before the fire, beautifully near-naked. It didn’t really matter either way, because when he straddled the small of my back and laid his big, strong, lotioned-up hands on my shoulders and set to work, I was all his. No matter what happened. “Damn, you’re all knotted-up, big guy,” he said, his voice low and deep, and between that and the crackling warmth of the fire, and the warm, solid weight of his body over me, I was done for. Almost literally putty in his hands. He worked quietly, deeply, slowly, asking me occasionally how things felt, if it hurt when he dug in at certain spots. But it felt amazing, and that was about all I could bring myself to say. I was very aware of my cock, raging hard in my pants, pressed against the floor, but I tried to will thoughts of that away, and just enjoy the experience. “Lift up a little, big guy,” he said a little while later, his hands on my hips and squeezing encouragingly, and my body responded automatically. I lifted my ass up, and he tugged my sweats down over it, pulling them down my legs and tossing them on the floor. When he put more lotion on his hands and then slid them slowly up my hamstrings, his thumbs brushing the elastic along the bottom of my briefs, right at the base of my glutes, I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a soft little moan. He chuckled quietly at that, slid his hands back down to my calves, then slowly worked them up again. This time, the tips of his thumbs slid under the elastic, rubbing slowly over the tight muscles of my lower ass, and I felt myself shiver a little at the sensation. I was almost horrified to feel my ass bucking up a little at the sensation. “That feel good, Dad?” he asked, his voice deep and quiet and warm. “Yeah, son,” I said, a little huskily. “Good, big guy,” he murmured, pushing his thumbs up deeper inside the leg openings of my briefs, rubbing the muscles of my glutes a little more slowly. I sensed the shift of his body as he loomed over me, and then shivered at the slow press of his lips to my warm, lotion-scented shoulder. “After Christmas… I wasn’t sure if you wanted to do more,” he murmured. Finally, I turned my head to the side to look at him, smiling and handsome as he loomed over me. “I did,” I eventually said, blushing a little. “But I didn’t know if you wanted to either, son.” He grinned and slipped his hands off my ass, and then I felt the warm, muscled weight of his big young body slide over me. Especially the heft of his hard cock, nudging up against the cleft of my ass before settling against it, slotting into it like a puzzle piece. “I’ve wanted to be with you since I was 12 years old, Dad,” he murmured against my ear, his lips nuzzling it lightly, and I let out an involuntary little half-grunt, half-moan as his lips closed over my earlobe and suckled gently on it. My hips bucked up and back against him, and he let out a low, appreciative murmur, slipping his hands down to the waistband of my briefs and tugging on them. “Love you, big guy,” he murmured into my ear. Jesus, the way he kept calling me that, it was driving me nuts. He’d started calling me that in his mid-teens, right when he started getting big like he was now, and I guess the two things were intertwined in my subconscious or something. “God, son,” suriyeli escort I half-moaned, turning my head to look at him. “I love you too. You got no idea, buddy.” “I think I do, Dad,” he smiled, and then leaned in and kissed me. It was an awkward angle, sure, but the pull was too strong, and as soon as our lips connected and his warm, thick tongue slipped into my mouth, I forgot everything else. I was vaguely aware of the fact I was naked now, and that he was too, as I felt the throbbing flesh of his big young dick grazing back and forth along the hairy cleft of my ass. When the kiss broke, I wanted more, of course I did, but Brock knew what he was doing, for sure. He kissed and nuzzled his way back over my shoulders, down the column of my spine, through the patch of fur in the small of my back, then over each of my glutes. I still had a nice ass, an ass to be proud of, and evidently Brock thought so too, the way he sank his fingers into the meat of it and worshiped it with his lips and tongue, making low, pleasurable noises as he went. I felt the warmth of his breath gusting over the fur deep in my crack, over my hole, and found my hips pushing up and back again, my cheeks spreading. Brock grunted approvingly, and then drove a slow moan out of me as he buried his face between the muscles, his lips and tongue working up and down the depths of my ass trench, up and down and around the tight, tingling knot of my pucker, before zeroing in on it and going for the gold. Shit, I hadn’t had my ass ate since undergrad, by one of my fraternity brothers who got very fun to be around when he got the right number of shots in him. I’d almost forgotten the intensity of the feeling, how much I loved it. But my boy was taking me right back to that place again, eating my dad ass out with the skill of a porn star, his tongue licking its way up inside of me, making my cock throb and leak into the blanket beneath me, as I clawed at the fabric and bunched it up in my hands. “Jesus fuckin’ christ,” I growled, looking back over my shoulder to see his handsome face all but obscured by the twin mounds of my ass. His big blue eyes met mine, and he tipped me a wink that sent a thrill through my core. “You like that, huh Dad?” he said, coming up for air, his chin and lips shiny with spit. “What else do you get into?” He grinned at me, and I felt one of his lotion-slicked fingers circling, tickling, then pressing inside my hole. I moaned and pushed my hips back as he buried it deep in me and rotated it, his fingertip finding the hard edge of my prostate and stroking it. He worked me over like that, his other hand rubbing up and down the loosened, relaxed muscles of my back, leaking in to kiss and lick my glute as he worked a second finger up inside of me. Christ, I’d had a great time at college, learned a lot of things about myself and other dudes, but evidently Brock was learning on a while higher level up there at Tech. Brock kissed his way back up my spine, to my shoulder, nuzzling up the side of my neck to my ear, as his fingers worked me over inside slowly, expertly, making me fuck myself back on them like a hungry whore. Like I hadn’t done in over two decades. Like I’d never imagined doing for my big, strapping stud of a son. “I could make you feel so good, Dad,” he murmured, shifting onto his side and leaning in to buzz my lips with his again. “Can I? Will you let me make you feel good, big guy?” He pressed the hardness of his cock into my hip, and I could feel how big he was. I was a pretty big guy, and he was cut from the same cloth as me. A nice big, thick, helmet-headed cock, a real pleaser of a man dick. I remembered it well from the way I’d practically worshiped it Christmas night, surprising us both with how easily I took him to the root and made him cum down my throat. The thought of that big cock sinking up inside my guts had made my hole twitch and tingle the whole time, and basically ever since. Now, I guess I was going to get the chance to find out how it felt for real. To give my ass up to my own son. Could I do that? Let him prove himself as a man to me like that? Brock’s tongue slid easily back into my mouth, grunting pleasurably as I kissed him back, long and wet and deep, and yes, I decided I could do that. No, not just could – I wanted it. Wanted him, inside me. Badly. “Promise you’ll go easy on me, bud,” I halfway moaned when our lips finally parted, and he rotated his talented, long fingers inside me as he smiled with delight, like he used to when I gave him presents. Still very much my boy at heart, but also very much a man now. I felt a little wistful at that, even as he stroked my bud deep inside. “Anything for you, Dad,” he murmured, kissing me again, then shifting away. I heard the cap on the lotion bottle pop open, his fingers still working me over the whole time as I listened to the slick, lewd sounds of him greasing up his cock. Then the warm weight of him over me again, his fingers slipping out of my hole, along my thigh, pushing it out and up, pulling me back against him on my side, his big chest against my back, lips grazing my shoulder as the slick head of his cock teased the tingling opening to my ass. “Love you, Dad,” he murmured, rus escort and as I opened my mouth to reply, he pushed into me. I lost whatever words I was going to say, reduced to a low, long moan as he breached my hole and pushed his way inside of me. Slow, but determined. I felt myself stretching, felt the pressure, felt all those sensations I thought I’d left behind when I finished college, the sensation of another man’s cock entering me. Scratching that deep-seated itch that had always burned inside of me. Brock’s tongue slipped back in my mouth, swallowing my low moans, as I traveled through the pain, into the weird neither-nor land of intense pressure inside of me, and then through the other side, to the waves of pleasure that built and built as he fucked me with his big young son cock. God damn, my kid was a fucking master at this. I was stunned, amazed, and proud as hell too, as his cock touched me deep inside, in places I’d nearly forgotten existed. Taking me back as he took me, showing me the man he’d become, the man I’d created slow-fucking me with the kind of mastery I could only have dreamed of having at his age. He nuzzled at the side of my neck, up against that spot behind my jaw that drove me nuts, as he cradled my head on his big bicep and ran his free hand over the muscles and fur of my chest and stomach, down to take my aching cock in hand for an exquisitely slow, tortuous stroke, picking up the pace of his dadfuck and making me leak even harder. I felt his big body shift, and let him maneuver me onto my back, moaning as his thick cock slipped briefly out of me, then moaning some more as he pushed my thighs apart again and slid back up inside of me, all the way to the root, a powerful look of smiling concentration on his handsome young face as he loomed over me. Holy fuck, he looked amazing, all thick, smooth-chested young muscle, all of it working and flexing and crunching as he thrust masterfully up ever deeper inside of me, making my toes curl as I clutched his big, powerful arms and let him take me to the brink. “Wanted to do this for so long, Dad,” he murmured, eyes locked on mine. “Make love to you. Show you who I am.” “God, buddy,” I moaned, craning my head up to meet his in a powerful, deep kiss. “You’re so fucking good. Always wondered…” “Now you know, big guy,” he said, and gave me an extra-deep thrust that had my eyes rolling up in the back of my head. Fuck, I could feel him throbbing inside of me, I could swear it. I’d never felt anything like this before. I’d never felt so damn good. “Can I cum in you, Dad?” he said, his voice all husky as he thrust, harder and faster, his hips slapping against the meat of my upturned ass. “Can your boy breed you, big guy?” “Fuck yessss,” I hissed, reaching up to clutch his big, thick pecs and squeezing. “Fucking nut in your Dad, bud. Breed me up like the fucking man you are.” “Aw fuck yes,” he moaned, his hands grabbing hold of my hips, lifting them up a little as he started to really hammer into me, the sound of our bodies colliding echoing around the room with a thwack-thwack-thwack. He got this real focused look on his face, his eyes big and round like his mouth as they locked in on mine. “Aw Dad,” he said in a choked voice, and then I felt the big muscles of his chest flex hard, his body like a Greek statue. “Gonna fuckin’ cummmm…” “Yeah, buddy,” I growled, as I reached for my own throbbing, leaking, towering cock. But he beat me to it, his hand still a little slick from the lotion, wrapping it around my dad cock and giving me a series of quick, jerky strokes, before finishing me off with a half-greasy thumb rubbing over the underside of my cockhead. Now it was my turn to moan and my muscles to lock up in a hard flex, as I started to spurt shot after shot of my dad cum all over my stomach and my son’s jerking fist. I knew he was unloading inside of me too, and that just drove my orgasm onto a whole higher plane, as we unloaded our big family cocks together. There were no words for several minutes after, just the panting of our breath, turning into light chuckles as we nuzzled up close in front of the crackling fire, our skin aglow with sweat and cum. Brock flopped down on his side beside me, his cock a rubbery tube of sticky, shining manflesh. His big hand played through the streaks of cum on my chest and stomach, and when he brought his sticky fingers to my mouth, I automatically sucked them clean, loving the lusty growl he let out watching me, before leaning in to kiss me and share the taste of the cum that had made him two decades ago. “That was quite the massage, son,” I chuckled as he leaned his forehead against mine, slowly rubbing my belly and pecs almost possessively. “Did the trick though, didn’t it?” he grinned. “Told you I’d make you feel good, Dad.” “You sure did, buddy,” I grinned back. “You sure did.” “You know, I always wanted to fuck in front of an open fire,” he smiled. “Guess I checked off two bucket list items at the same time, huh?” “Well, they’re calling for snow all weekend, bud,” I said, turning to face him, reaching down to fondle the heft of his freshly spent son cock. “We’ve got plenty of firewood, and no place else to be. Think there’s anything more you want to show me, stud?” “You have no idea, Dad,” he said, leaning in with that big, handsome smile of his. “I don’t know about that, kid – I might have a few ideas of my own too, y’know,” I murmured, meeting his lips in a long, deep kiss that slowly began to turn into something more.

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