Big Mike's Boy

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Big Mike's Boy Page 6

by Richard Peter Johnson


  My seed exploded from my cock with an intensity that I’d never felt before. Since it was pointed up as it rubbed up and down dad’s chest, my load shot straight upwards. It splashed on my dad’s neck and chin. He craned his head down until it was shooting straight into his mouth. It was such a thrilling thing to see, even though my vision wasn’t very clear through my nearly sealed eyelids.

  My rectal muscles throbbed and squeezed his cock rhythmically in time with my cum shots. He grunted with each grasp of my insides. Then he cried out and crammed his cock into me as hard as he could. I felt his seed start to unload in me. I wasn’t even done coming yet and here he was, joining in. For a few seconds were we both lost in our simultaneous orgasm. Sadly, it did not last long, but only because I’d started before him. It was still absolutely wonderful. He shot great gouts of his man cream in my ass and I couldn’t help but think about how good it was going to taste when it came back out.

  I held tightly to him, like a cat trying to avoid its bath as he slowly recovered. I was afraid that in his weakened, post- orgasmic state, he might drop me. I probably shouldn’t have worried, though- I doubt that my dad wouldn’t risk damaging his new favorite toy. I felt his cock begin to soften and released my death grip from around his neck, leaving one arm there to hold me up. The other quickly moved beneath me to catch the bounty that was about to flow from inside of me. I felt a few dribbles of his cum ooze out and bore down, as though I was trying to crap. That did the trick. A large squirt of his cum shot out, overflowing my cupped palm. I brought it up to my lips and drank from it, filling my mouth in the process. My dad gave me a hungry look. I repeated my actions and this time I offered my semen sample to him. He stuck his tongue out and licked it from my palm. Then he kissed me, transferring his load into my mouth. We shared it back and forth a few times until it was all gone. We were able to do this twice more before his flow stopped.

  I let go of his neck and he released me, slowly letting my feet hit the floor. I wrapped my arms around him and gripped him tight, snuggling my face into his hairy chest.

  “I love you,” I said, trying to put all of my emotions into my words, leaving him no room for doubt that I meant it romantically, not platonically.

  “I love you, too,” he replied as he squeezed me just as firmly. I could hear the love in his voice. He felt the same way about me as I did for him.

  We held each other like that for what seemed like an hour. I think I felt a few of his tears hit my shoulder. I could be wrong, but they were warmer than the water still flowing around us. We didn’t let go until we had drained the water heater and our shower turned cold. Then we got out, dried each other off and climbed into bed. I snuggled up against him and laid my head on his furry chest. He kissed the top of my head and repeated our vow to each other.

  “I love you, Noah. I always will.”

  “I love you, too, dad. And ditto.”

  He gave a little giggle. I listened to his heart beating until it was interrupted by his light snores. I closed my eyes and drifted off to a contented, blissful sleep.

  6

  I awoke the next morning, instantly alarmed. It was past 9 and my dad was still asleep. He was late for work. I shook him and told him that he was late.

  “I’m good. Took a couple of days off. Still have to answer to alarms, but don’t have to go in again until Sunday,” he mumbled before dozing off again.

  I did some mental math. Today was Tuesday, which meant that I would have five days alone with my dad all to myself. For a moment I wondered why he had taken the time off. The realization hit me upside the head. He’d done it for me. For us. Apparently he wanted some time alone, just like I did. My heart melted with love for this man. My dad, my lover.

  I wanted to doze off again, like he had, but I was too awake to do it. Instead I slipped out of the bed. I couldn’t help but notice the wet spot on the sheets, right about where my ass had laid. Obviously more of him had leaked out during the night. The thought made me hard again. So hard that it was damn near impossible to pee straight. I eventually gave up and just sat down on the toilet. While I relieved myself, I couldn’t help but think of the night prior when my dad had drank it from me. My cock throbbed at the thought. When I bore down to get the last few drops out, I felt a wetness escape my ass. More cum. Had to be. And I was correct. When I wiped my ass, the toilet paper was covered in it. It had a brownish tinge to it and a strong odor, but it was definitely cum. I was tempted to taste it, but that smell made me decide against it. I just wiped myself until I was dry and flushed it all down. I could see a light brown blob of the stuff swirl around before going down the hole.

  I went to the kitchen and made my dad’s favorite breakfast, steak and eggs. Medium rare and over easy. Toast. Butter and blackberry jelly. Black coffee. Two sugars. I even went so far as to make some hash browns on the side. I knew he was going to love it. I settled for some scrambled eggs and hash browns with orange juice. Just enough to fill me up, but not enough to make me bloated. I didn’t want to risk not being able to have some fun.

  I woke him up with breakfast in bed. And, just as I had predicted, he loved it. He chowed down, making the same “mmm, mmm” sounds as he had done the night prior when he was sucking on my cock. At least I tasted as good as steak and eggs... or steak and eggs tasted as good as me. Either way, I took it as a compliment.

  When he was finished he put his tray on the floor and extended his arm to me. I automatically understood what that meant. I slid across the bed and laid my head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around me and held me tightly.

  “So…,” he started. “You good with… all of this?”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m having the time of my life, dad! I love you so much and I think that this has only made us closer.”

  “Yeah, I kind of felt the same way, too,” he said. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t having any… second thoughts.” I snuggled in tighter to him.

  “Never. I love you too much,” I replied.

  “Can I ask a question?” he asked.

  “You just did,” I teased. He gave a little giggle.

  “Okay… Well, can I ask another one?”

  “You just did,” I said. He sighed.

  “Fine can I ask a couple of questions?”

  “Of course,” I replied.

  “Good,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. “Look… umm… Well, it’s like this….umm…”

  “Just spit it out, dad,” I said.

  “Okay, fine. Look- uh- you keep saying that you love me. So is that like… the love you always felt for me, or is it… something new?” he asked nervously.

  “Well, I’ll always love you as my dad,” I replied.

  “Yeah, but-”

  “But this is deeper. Almost romantic. I’m in love with you, dad. Like, really in love with you. Is that wrong?” The end of my question was filled with trepidation. I wasn’t really sure how he’d respond. I mean, I hoped he’d be okay with it, but I really didn’t know for sure.

  “Are you kidding me?” he asked with some relief. “I feel the same way about you! I was afraid you wouldn’t feel that way about me! I love you, Noah. I love you as a father and a lover.”

  I craned my neck up to kiss him. It was romantic, deep and full of emotion. We were father and son, but we were officially lovers, as well. Fuck anyone who might disapprove. My dad reached down, pushing the covers out of the way to reveal a very hard cock.

  “So… You up for more?” he asked.

  I was. The next few days were filled with kisses, blow jobs and anal sex. We loved on each other like two lovers ought to do. He made me ride him. He fucked me good and hard in every position we could conceive of. Often, we would both pass out form sheer exhaustion. But as soon as we woke up, we were right back at it again. I loved waking him up with a blow job. That usually led to us being tied together in a 69. His seed in my belly was more filling than any other breakfast I’d ever had. Friday afternoon, my dad asked me an unusual
question.

  We were lying together, watching a porno, slowly stroking each other’s cocks. The video we were viewing was a compilation of mild S&M, pee games and before he asked the question, a nice gang bang. The guy had taken two cocks in his ass. In my mind that was just the equivalent of my dad’s. After the men came over and over again in the guy’s ass, the scene faded to black. That’s when dad asked his question.

  “Noah, do you know what fisting is?”

  “Umm… not… really…?”

  “Oh.”

  As the next scene came on the screen, I got a crash course of what fisting was. One guy was stretching out another’s ass with four fingers. No big deal. My dad had done that to me several times. Then the guy forced his thumb inside. The next thing I knew, the other guy was taking his whole hand in his ass.

  “That’s what fisting is,” my dad said.

  “Uhh…,” I started. “…doesn’t that hurt?”

  “Does it hurt when I’m in you?” he asked.

  “Sometimes. But it also feels good, so it kind of balances out,” I replied honestly.

  “Same deal here,” he said.

  “Oh,” I replied as I continued to be amazed by the images on the screen. A few minutes later I asked, “Have you… have you ever done that?”

  “Well, I’ve never been on the receiving end, but I have fisted a few guys,” he said.

  “Did they like it?”

  “Yes. Every single one of them. It all has to do with the guy doing it. He has to be patient and wait until the guy getting it is ready to go to certain places. You can’t just walk up to someone and shove your hand in their ass. It takes time,” he said. “I’m very patient when it comes to that.”

  I just shook my head as the man now had everything up to his elbow in the other guy. The receiving guy acted like it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. And I have to admit, the thought of maybe having it done to me was so exciting that my cock was dripping constantly. I also felt a sense of need from my backside. Just like it would crave dad’s cock, acting twitchy and sometimes itchy in desire. Now it was essentially telling me that it wanted something bigger than a cock. Even one as big and glorious as my dad’s

  “Do you… do you think I would like it?” I asked after the elbow was in.

  “Maybe. You seem to like having big things in there,” my dad said with a smile while shaking his massively hard cock at me.

  “Do you… do you maybe want to try it with me?” I asked nervously.

  “Are you asking me to fist you, son? You have to be very clear on this. Ask me the right way,” he said, suddenly serious. “It’s a big deal and I don’t want anyone to ever think I forced it on you.”

  But who would know? I mean, it was only dad and I in the room. Who would witness me asking him? Would I need to sign a contract? Did he want to get me on tape, asking him to do it? Whatever. I’d just have to play the game his way.

  “Dad? Will you fist me?” I asked. He grabbed me, holding me tight and kissing me.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he said.

  He quietly got up and dug around on the floor. By now, every box he’d had hidden under the bed had been brought out and some of the implements they’d contained had been used. Well, except for one box- the fisting box. Dad threw a few of those large toys on the bed, including two that looked like actual hands. A bottle filled with white powder came out next. I felt butterflies in my stomach and my nerves were on end, each getting worse with everything he threw on the bed. Oddly, the last two things to hit the bed were medicine bottles. That one confused me. Dad got back up and left the room momentarily. When he came back, he held a rather large bowl, a measuring cup, whisk and a small bowl. I was completely lost.

  He took the measuring cup to the bathroom and filled it with water. He poured this into the large bowl and gave me a smile. I was so confused. Was this all part of fisting? If so, it seemed rather strange to me. He grabbed the plastic bottle filled with the white powder. He uncapped it and, using the cap like a measuring spoon, dumped two into the bowl of water. Then he used the whisk, stirring up the water and powder. After a few minutes, he lifted the whisk and I saw thick, viscous clear fluid ooze off of it. He smiled at me again as the realization of what he’d accomplished filled my brain. Lube. My dad had just made lube. And thick lube, at that. He took the whisk and dropped it into the bathroom sink, returning to the bedroom with a stack of towels.

  “You need to clean out, I think,” he said, offering his hand to me.

  “You mean clean up?”

  “Nope. Out. Follow me.”

  He led me to the bathroom and dug in one of the drawers. He produced something that looked like a silver dildo. He gave me another smile as he stepped into the shower. He unscrewed the hand held shower head and replaced it with the silver dildo. He turned on the water and the water began to stream out. Again, it took me a few seconds to figure out his point, but when I did… Well, it didn’t help me too much. He extended his hand again and led me in.

  He had me turn around and bend over. I asked if this was really necessary, as I had yet to have any… accidents. He assured me that it was essential. I sighed and did as he’d asked. The next thing I knew, water was filling my insides. It was a feeling I wasn’t entirely unused to. I mean, when my dad blew his load in me, it didn’t feel too dissimilar to this. But this was… a bit different. I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t take too much that first time before I was squirting it back out.

  “No, so. That won’t do,” my dad scolded me. “You have to take more in and hold it. I’ll let you know when to release it.”

  “But, dad-”

  “Don’t ‘but, dad’ me,” he said. “If we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to do it right.”

  With that, he push it back inside of me. Once more, I could feel it filling me up. The only real comfort I took in it was that the water was nice and warm. I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like with cold water. As my bowels water ballooned up, I began to sweat a bit. There was a mild pain to this- a discomfort. But I knew that, if I released too soon, I’d get chastised again and have to repeat the process. So I held it. I held it as best as I could. But I quickly reached my breaking point.

  “Dad?”

  “Hold on, son.” My dad reached up and fondled my balls.

  “Dad?” I repeated a minute later. “It’s starting to hurt.”

  “Hold on, son.” He was now stroking my (for some reason) hard cock, which helped distract me for only so long.

  “Dad? It hurts. Feels like I’m going to burst!”

  That was when he removed it, and burst I did. I squirted water out of my ass like a firehose. It shot out under pressure and streamed across the shower until it splashed all over the far wall. I felt some other stuff come out, as well. It wasn’t all water. By the time I’d slowed to a dribble, however, my father had already washed that down the drain.

  “Again,” he said. I didn’t complain or argue. I just bent over.

  By the fourth time, the water was clear and nothing else had come out. He insisted on doing it one last time, however, “just to be sure.” Then we dried off and returned to the bedroom. Before I could lay down, dad was spreading out a bunch of towels on the lower half of the bed. He layered them at least three deep. I wasn’t entirely sure why he was going to such lengths, but afterwards, I completely understood. We climbed on the bed and dad asked me the second strange question for the day.

  “Noah? Have you ever smoked weed before?”

  Talk about your random questions. I thought he was going to shove his hand in my ass, not give me another drug talk.

  “No. You always said it was wrong,” I replied, confusion in my voice.

  “No, I never said it was wrong. I always said that you have to be safe about it, just like sex and drinking. But if done in a safe environment, it wasn’t wrong,” he said, but that wasn’t exactly how I remembered it.

  “What’s your point?” I ask
ed.

  “Well, in order for this to work, you need to be relaxed,” he said, a bit nervously, as though he was afraid how I’d respond. “Alcohol helps, but I don’t want to sit here and wait for you to get drunk on beer. Besides, I’m not sure I have enough. And I know I don’t have anything harder. So… marijuana would be a good alternative.”

  “I… suppose,” I said. “Too bad we don’t have any.”

  “Well… that’s not entirely accurate,” my dad replied.

  “Are you saying that you have some?” I asked. “And that you use it?”

  “Only on special occasions,” he replied. “And I can’t think of any more special occasion that fisting my son for the first time. So…?”

  “Would you like me to smoke some weed, dad?”

  “Only if you want to. I’m not going to force you,” he replied.

  “Are you asking me to smoke some weed, dad? You have to be very clear on this. Ask me the right way,” I said, mimicking his words and tone from earlier. “It’s a big deal and I don’t want anyone to ever think I did it against your will.”

  He had a smirk on his face that told me he didn’t entirely appreciate me throwing his words back into his face. He let out a breath that I didn’t even know he was holding and looked crestfallen. He waited a few seconds before looking me in the eye. There was a bit of sadness there.

  “I would like for you to smoke some weed, Noah. I know it would make everything we’re about to do much easier. For both of us.”

  “Let’s do it, then,” I replied. He grinned and opened up one of the medicine bottles. He produced a joint and got a lighter out of his nightstand. “What’s the other bottle for?”

 

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