This can’t be real
I remember how mortified I had beenwhen I had presented to dad like this, thinking it would please him enoromusly, and he’d come in and just tutted, shook his head, and said, “no no no.”
I looked at his face.
“What’s wrong, Dad?”
Dad stood in the doorway, his frame filling it entirely.
“Son, it’s early days between us, and so it’s understandable that you don’t quite understand your role yet. Let me explain.”
He took a couiple of steps towards me.
“Firstly, some guys may be into a big furry bush, but I am not. I expect you to keep your pussy immaculate for me. I don’t care how you do it - razors, creams, whatever, but I expect your hole clean, smooth, like when you were young. I spent so many evenings gazing at it when I bathed you as a kid, now that you’re old enough to take your Dad’s cock, it’s your duty to keep it boyish, to refute these steps into manhood. I want to make love to my boy, not to a man.
“Secondly, do you really think I want that thing bouncing around while I’m pumping your arse? I want you in a jock strap at all times from now on. I only need your little pussy; I have no use for that thing.”
I must have looked extremely hurt, because Dad became tender at once.
“Don’t worry boy, I’ll fuck you now, but make the changes before I get home tomorrow, ok?”
“Ok, Dad.”
The next morning I crept out of the house at 5am and walked to the twenty four hour supermarket up near the motorway bridge. I bought hair removal creams (I was annoyed how they were all packaged in pink, clearly for women) and searched the sportswear department for jock straps. Needless to say they didn’t have any. In the end I opted for some new white briefs. They seemed tight and concealing in the pouch, but the fabric of the trunk was thin - perfect to cut through for a make-shift backless underwear. I used the self checkout.
I crept back into the silent house and locked myself in the downstairs bathroom. I followed the instructions on box of the hair removal product, squatting in the bath as I left the cream on my backside for ten minutes, making sure it went evenly over my hole and along the length of my crack. Fifteen minutes later I bent over and checked my work in the mirror. Perfect.
I grabbed the kitchen scissors and cut a long slit in the trunk of a pair of the briefs. I was going to remove the back entirely, but it struck me that Dad might enjoy ripping the fabric himself. I slid them on and checked my work again. Looking good.
After I’d done away with all evidence of my morning’s actions I scurried back up to my bedroom and dove under the covers of my duvet, grinning from ear to ear.
Fifteen minutes later I heard mum’s alarm go off. I waited with bated breath as I heard her switch it off, hoping to God she didn’t snooze it, and rejoiced as I heard the bathroom door close and the hiss of the water running through the pipes.
It was now or never.
I quietly entered the master bedroom. Dad was sleeping on his back, snoring softly.
I climbed over him as lightly as I could manage, and with my back to him, my feet either side of his hips, I lowered my crack onto his face and began to slowly move it up and down over his lips.
He stirred instantly.
“What the…?”
Dad’s hands instinctively grabbed my buttocks and made a motion to push them aside, but stopped just short of doing so. A second passed like this, with his hands framing my buttocks, my sphinctre hovering an inch from his lips. I could feel his hot breath inside me.
“Oh… son,” Dad said, shaking his head. “Oh, my God, you didn’t.”
Dad’s tongue flicked around my hole, which was as smooth as when I was a kid. He groaned so loudly I thought mum might poke her head around the bathroom door. He prized the fabric of the back of my underwear apart and ripped it open.
“Sit down on my face.”
I did as instructed and Dad tongue fucked me like a man possessed. It didn’t last more than ten seconds though, and Dad threw the duvet aside, exposing his erect cock.
“Sit on my cock, boy, hurry.”
I didn’t waste a second. With my back still to Dad I aimed my sphinctre at the tip of his cock and plunged myself down as hard as I could. Dad’s cock ripped through me and I bit my fist to suppress a squeal of agony.
“Jesus, son,” Dad said, but didn’t waste a second either. He pumped my boyish hole in a frenzy, but after a mere ten strokes we heard the shower being turned off.
“Go, son. Quick.”
I pulled off Dad with a pop and bolted out of the room. Seconds later I heard my mum’s voice.
“Did you say something, dear? I thought I heard voices.”
2
Stop ruining good pictures with disgusting incest stories…God damn
