Subject: Dad’s New Life pt. 2 Dad’s New Life 2 by Bill Drake ail) NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It contains sexually explicit description of sex between men, some of whom are related. Thanks to all the great work that the Nifty Archive does and the writers it publishes. Please consider supporting them with a donation to help them continue their mission of publishing and archiving great fiction. Also, a public service announcement to write an author if you’re into his story. A positive email goes a long way for encouragement. The first Dad’s New Life story got a lot of feedback and calls for a sequel. I’m not sure this one can live up to the first, but it was fun to write. It helps to read Part One first. Dad’s New Life 2 by Bill Drake Dad seemed hungry, almost greedy, as he undid the guy’s shorts. I didn’t know the guy, but neither did Dad. That’s how out of control the evening, this whole weekend, had gotten. I just knew this guy – a thin, tall guy who was 19, maybe 20 tops – was called “Horse” by his fraternity brothers. There were about six dudes gathered in that room, but I swore we could hear the zipper descend and then, fuck, that dick plopped out. Horse, whatever his real name was, wasn’t hard yet, and a thick tube of college dick fell out, like eight soft inches. Right in front of Dad’s eager eyes. “Fuck yes,” Dad grunted. Then he leaned forward and took the head into his mouth. *** Call me dumb, but I didn’t think the weekend would go like this. After my last visit to Chicago, things were weird between me and Dad for a couple of weeks. But not as weird as they should have been. I mean, I had found out that my father, my masculine, football-obsessed dad, was basically a slut for cock. And I’d taken advantage of the fact to get my rocks off with him. Somehow, Dad acted like everything was normal when I went back to Champaign. Calling every few days, asking me the usual questions about classes and making general small talk. I was glad, at first. Then, fuck, I realized I missed it. Missed the sex. Mike Grant may be my father, but the sex had been incredible. After a week and I half I broke down and sent Dad a text asking if I could visit again. “Sorry son. I have plans.” I don’t know what I was thinking, but I took it in stride. I had a date with a girl I’d had an on again/off again thing with. I got laid. And gotten laid a few nights later. This was normal, and healthy. My weird transgression with Dad would have to be a thing of the past. *** That’s not how it played out, of course. Dad contacted me to say he was thinking of coming down to Champaign to catch a home game. If Dad had any love in his life that approached the devotion to the Chicago Bears, it was Big 10 football. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d come to see a game in person, but it was the first time he hadn’t arranged for a hotel room in enough advance time. He asked me if he could crash at my place. I probably should have checked with my roommates, Adam and Randy. But I knew they wouldn’t care, and they didn’t. I had an air mattress I could take and Dad could sleep in my bed. The minute he showed up I knew we were going to sleep together. Dad just had a look on his face. Horny, playful, flirty. Even as he acted like a normal college dad and gave me a bear hug on my front porch. Even as he was dressed in his Friday casual attire of cotton slacks and button-down shirt that seemed out of place on his beefy muscular body. Dad was starting to grow a mustache, and while it wasn’t fully grown in, there was about a half inch of dark stubble on his upper lip. I made fun of it. Dad in turn made a comment about me packing on some muscle and gave my upper arm a squeeze. I was feeding off this vibe between us and starting to feel my dick chub. Dad looked me, with kind of a quiet solemn look that just oozed horniness. I nodded and laughed nervously, trying to dispel the tension. I nudged closer to him, maybe to kiss him. Or to ask him up to my room, but at that moment Randy came out of his room. “Fuck,” I hissed and stepped back, and Dad chuckled at my reaction. “Hey Mr. Grant,” my roommate said and gave Dad a fist bump, like he was a buddy. “Ready to party it up this weekend?” Randy was a kidder and loved to tease my Dad. Dad grinned. “Can’t keep up with you guys. But thanks for letting me stay. There’s not a hotel for miles.” “No problem,” Randy said. Then turning to me he said, “Guess you’re not joining us tonight are you, Jeff?” He and Adam had a big party lined up. I was kind of sad not to go, but I had to entertain Dad. “Nah, I’m good,” I replied. Dad looked at his watch. “I know it’s only 6, son, but I’m starving. What do you say we grab some dinner?” “Sounds good,” I said. “You wanna join us, Randy?” Dad asked. “My treat.” “Thanks, Mr. G, but I got plans.” “Hot date?” Dad winked. Randy chuckled. “Fraid not.” Dad went to drop his bag off in my room and we seemed set to go, but as soon as we were halfway to his car, Dad stopped. “I probably should get a sweater,” he said. “Gonna get colder tonight.” Not even giving me a chance to respond, he said, “I’ll just be a second, Jeff.” And like that he was dashing back to my front porch and knocking on the door to have my roommate let him in. I should have figured something was off. I did figure something was off when a “second” of waiting became a few minutes. I walked back to my place and opened the door, nervous about what I’d see. I didn’t see anything, but I could hear Randy’s voice from the other room. “Oh FUCK!” I’d walked in just in time to eavesdrop on my buddy’s orgasm. “Oh shit,” came a softer echo of his pleasure. I was actually caught off guard, but a second Dad appeared from the kitchen, wiping his mouth with one hand while his other carried his sweater. “Ready son?” he asked, not missing a beat. *** I wouldn’t call it blue balls, but I sat in that restaurant booth feeling more than a little frustrated. Cock blocked by my roommate. Turns out Randy was the least of my problems. Dad was flirting big time with our waiter. Mitch. Or Matt. Or Miles. Whatever his name was, the guy was kind of ordinary looking but had a great body for a college dude, gym-toned muscle filling out his black knit uniform shirt. Maybe flirting was a strong way to put it. But Dad was being super friendly and super chatty with this guy, and when I tried to bring it up after Mitch or Miles left the table, Dad shrugged his shoulders. “What?” he said defensively and made me feel bad I was spoiling his good mood. “Can’t I pay an attractive man a complement?” “Yeah, sorry,” I said, feeling chastised. Dad got a serious look on his face. “I know things got a little, you know, um intense between us last time you came up. I’m sorry about that, Jeff.” God, this isn’t how I wanted things to go. I wanted to be the laidback dude with Dad. “You don’t have to apologize Dad. I mean,” I lowered my voice. “I had fun, too.” Dad paused and tried to read my expression to see if I was sincere. Then his gruff masculine face broke in to a smile. “You did, didn’t you?” he said in a low voice. “You horndog.” God, I was getting hard in that booth. Dad winked and patted the table with his big hands, then pushed his meaty body up out of the seat. “Gonna hit the restroom before the food comes,” he announced. There was something so sexy about him. About his meaty muscle and his middle aged bulk and his meaty ass filling out those work trousers. I watched as Dad walked across the restaurant, pausing to ask Mitch or Matt or whoever where the men’s room was. Only that conversation seemed to go on. Low voices and laughing from Dad and the waiter alike. Poor guy, having to fend off Dad’s flirting. Part of the job, I supposed. But as Dad walked to the restrooms in the back, I saw the hunky dude’s eyes follow, surreptitiously at first, then more openly. He picked up money and a paid check from a recently cleared table. Then giving a quick glance the coast was clear, the dude made his way back to the men’s room. This wasn’t happening was it? It was. Dad was blowing Mitch in the restroom. I waited. It felt like an eternity. Damn, I watched some high school kid make his way to the restroom. Then come out a few minutes later, his face pink with activity and a kind of amused look on his face as he went to join his family at the table down across the way şişli travesti from me. Shit, Dad didn’t blow him, too, did he? He was legal, I guessed, but fuck just barely. It was another minutes before Mitch stepped out, face red and a just-laid look on him as he hurried back to his shift. Dad was more composed but he was chubbed in his trousers. He didn’t say anything about taking so long and I was too shy to ask. But he gave me a quick grin just before Mitch came to our table with our food, a cocky smile on his face. “If you guys need anything more, you know where I am,” he smirked, not taking his eyes off Dad’s. *** If Dad had purposefully tried to make me jealous, I’d forgotten and forgiven everything back at my place. My room door was shut, my body was reclining on my double bed, and my jeans were around my thighs. I knew Dad could suck cock. I’d seen it and felt it. But the man seemed to be outdoing himself this time, with nice lewd mouth strokes up and down on my college-aged bone. It was like a nasty stripper/porn slut blow job, mucus-y spit coating my length and making his slurping on me that much louder. I wondered how often Dad did this. Went down on some guy. Like he had on that waiter back in the restaurant. Maybe even the teenager. I realized there was already at least one dude’s fresh load filling Dad’s stomach, and I was gonna pump another there. “Fuck!” I growled then choked back so my roommates wouldn’t hear. Dad gave a muffled moan as he struggled to swallow it all. But he swallow he did. Like an expert. Like a starved man. He was grinning as he pulled off. Yeah, he knew he was good. He knew he was a pro. He knew he had me wrapped around his finger. “You’re real cute when you’re jealous son,” he smirked, reaching down to undo his belt. That blow job had been about me, and I realized Dad wanted to get off, too. “Horned up, too. You got another one in ya?” I watched in excitement as Dad stripped for me, showing off his hairy beefiness and his thick rigid dad cock. “Um yeah,” I replied. I did too. My dick wasn’t going down. Dad pulled his trousers off and tossed them on the floor. Then he leaned in and kissed me. Damn, that got me going. The whole nastiness of the situation. The feel of Dad’s tongue battling mine before he practically sucked mine into his hungry mouth. The feel of his hairy beef against my nakedness. “I got some lube,” I started to say, only Dad was already sitting on my dick. I could feel the hardness of his buns against my prick, then the soft wetness deep in his crevice. “Fuck, you’re wet already,” I said dumbly. Dad just grinned and pressed down so my dick penetrated his hole in a smooth motion – deep and steady. “You let Mitch fuck you?” I asked, incredulous. “His name’s Mac, Jeff,” Dad replied, like I’d known the guy all through school. “Mac fucked you,” I growled in frustration, powering my hips up into Dad with a sharp jab. That harsh penetration only turned Dad on, and he arched his back and hissed, his erection bobbing excitedly. “Him and some other kid,” he finally replied. “Fuck me Jeff… fuck me like those guys fucked me.” Damn, I was gonna. Gonna fuck my Dad like the slut he was. I held onto his hips and jackhammered my dick up into him repeatedly. “Yes….” came my father’s low growl. Maybe my roommates would hear after all. I hoped to god they had already left to that party. Because I wasn’t letting up. Dad had teased me all afternoon, and I wanted this. Wanted to fuck my father. Wanted to fuck the cum out of him. The first shot took my by surprise. It was almost a spritz on my bare chest. A hot wet spritz. Then came another shot, more of a rope of cum that fired out of his red, angry cock. Then another. Dad was cumming, big time, and my dick was doing the honors to push it out of his beefy body. “Aw FUCK YES!” Dad growled. Damn, that man loved getting fucked. I gave it up, my dick pulsing up inside his ass. Joining Mac’s load and some teenage kid’s I didn’t even know. *** I needed my head examined, but the fucked up thing was I was totally fine with it all. Fine with fucking my father. Fine with the fact my Dad was a man slut. Fine with the fact he came on my dick and told me to keep going. Fine with the way he licked on my dick practically the second it plopped out. I was so glad I hadn’t gone to that party. An evening of wild sex was so much better. We weren’t boyfriends, but we kind of enjoyed the afterglow in my bed before Dad said he was conked out from the day and asked if we could turn out the lights. I slept like a lamb. At least for a few hours. But around 2 or 3 AM I woke up. It took me a second to realize that Dad wasn’t there. I looked down on the floor where I’d set up the air mattress but no Dad there either. I slipped on some shorts and walked down the hall. I stopped dead in my tracks at the noises coming from Adam’s room. Soft, deep grunts. Adam was having sex. Good for him. Only a fear gripped me. Most of those moans weren’t from Adam. “Fuck me, man.” Oh fuck, that was Dad all right. “Damn, Mr. Grant, you can’t get enough can ya?” That wasn’t Adam either, but Randy. Damn, both my roommates were teaming up on Dad. “Fuck, suck his dick, man. He’s next in that ass you know.” All right, that was Adam. The sounds got louder. Not hand smacking but the loud slapping sounds of body contact. “Damn go easy on him,” I could hear Randy say. “He can take it, bro,” Adam leered. “See… look at the way he’s sucking you know. Daddy loves this shit, right, Mr. G?” I could only hear a choked muffled cry in response. I knew I shouldn’t be eavesdropping but I was transfixed inches from Adam’s door. I thought maybe Randy was the gentler one of my roommates, but I heard him bark, “Easy there slut, you maybe be a good cocksucker but I wanna unload in your ass, hear?” “Fuck yes!” came Dad’s reply. Throaty and his deep voice modulated from the saliva in his mouth, but full throated in his answer. “Here comes load number one, Daddy,” Adam announced. My own dick was rock hard again. I could have stroked it, but I mustered the willpower to pad back to my room. I didn’t watch the clock but it was probably wasn’t ten minutes before I heard dad softly walk back into the room and slip into bed. The big guy knew how to be quiet, I’ll grant him that. He’d barely gotten back in before I turned and draped my arm over his burly body. It was warm and damp from the sweat and I instantly felt his back press back into my embrace. Fuck, I was so horny. I reached down and guided my dick into the cleft of that meaty ass. If it was wet earlier in the evening it was obscenely soaked now. Probably some lube, but mostly my dick was pushing through a sheen of cum. I didn’t speak and Dad didn’t either. It was romantic or caring. It was me needing to relieve the pressure in my balls and using Dad to do it. I held on tightly and fucked hard and fast. A two-minute spring until I gave it up, experiencing yet another incredible orgasm. I held onto Dad’s moist body and caught my breath. Then I pulled out, feeling the plop of my cock from Dad’s slutty hole, and rolled over and went to sleep. *** I slept in the next morning. Sex will do that for ya. Dad’s an early riser, though, and apparently Randy is too. As I approached the kitchen, I had a sixth sense I should stop in my tracks. There it was. Soft sounds. No words, no sex talk. Just wet slickness. Cautiously, I peered around the door. Randy’s back was to me, but he was sitting in a chair by the table, shorts around his ankles. Dad was between his legs giving him head. Randy’s hand rested on the top of my father’s head, guiding him up and down. Until almost silently, he came, ejaculating into Dad’s mouth and throat. I ducked back before Dad could spot me and gave it a half minute. Then I appeared. I thought they’d act guilty or something but it was like everything was normal. Even with Randy. I had a flash of anger at my buddy, but I knew I couldn’t blame him. He was getting offered some top-notch, no-strings head. Of course he wasn’t going to turn it down. We made small talk then Dad and I got ready and went out for breakfast. “Ready for the game?” he asked as we finished up our meal. A big grin was on his face. He was like an excited kid on game day. “Yeah,” I said. I followed football and had school spirit and all. I just wasn’t in Dad’s beylikdüzü travesti league of fandom. “I got something to do before,” Dad said. “OK if I meet you at the stadium around 1?” “Um yeah, I guess,” I said. “What’s up?” Dad got a shy look on his face. It might have been the first time I’d seen that on him. “I told Mac I’d call him.” “Mac – our himbo waiter Mac?” I burst out incredulously. Dad got defiant. “Yeah, what the fuck, Jeff? Forgive me for wanting a dating life.” “It’s not that, Dad,” I stewed. “But Jesus….” Dad seemed taken aback by my reaction. His voice got lower and softer as he said, “You’re a big fucking hypocrite, you know?” I sighed. “OK, I’m a hypocrite. But go. Have fun with Mac.” Yeah, I was acting childish, but I was having a lot of difficulty processing everything. “I will,” Dad said. *** I’d calmed down by game time, and Dad’s mind seemed to be on the football field. All was good. I even felt a little sorry I’d reacted the way I did. Dad was having fun. Finding himself. Maybe he was a little out of control, but that was his business. Now, he was sitting next to me in the stadium bleacher seat, yelling like the craziest Big 10 fan and jumping up at every great play. All the while, I was pretty sure he had Mac the waiter’s load deep in his guts. I wasn’t expecting anything other than football, when Dad said. “Oh by the way, I got us an invitation to the Kappa Sig party tonight.” What the fuck? “How? When?” I asked, kind of laughing. Dad shrugged his shoulder. “When I went to get the nachos… I started talking to a couple of the brothers in line with me. They said we should drop by tonight.” “We?” I asked. “Well, me. But they told me to bring whoever. Come on, Jeff, it’ll be fun… let your Dad relive his college glory days a little, why don’t ya?” The Kappa Sigs had a reputation for being real douches, but a party was a party. Besides, I could tell it meant a lot for Dad. He seemed to be having some mid-life crisis, but the nostalgia he had for his college days was evident. “Yeah sure,” I said. *** It was actually a fun party, I had to admit. A good DJ and a keg of some good beer – not the cheap shit. Yeah a lot of the Kappa Sig guys were assholes, but I found a few all right guys to talk to, including a dude in one of my classes. Dad seemed to hit it off with the guys and enjoyed the ribbing for being the college dad crashing the party. I admired how outgoing and carefree he could be. I guess I got carried away in my conversation, but at some point I realized it had been a while since I’d seen my father. Like, a long while. I excused myself from the guy I was talking to and went to get an other beer and see if I could find Dad. No sight of him, but as I stood at the keg one of the fraternity brothers came up to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. Leaning in his whispered, “Dude, I don’t know if this is your thing, but that college daddy is taking all comers in the Fuck Room.” I froze. Clearly this guy didn’t know College Daddy was my dad. “Where’s the Fuck Room?” I asked cautiously. Kappa Sig guy gave me a cocky leer. A “fuck yeah you wanna tap that too” kind of leer. “Second floor back of the hallway,” he grinned. I nodded and took my beer and made my way to the second floor. With the music I couldn’t hear much, but there was a door at the end of the hall with a “Private” sign on it. I opened it. It was a small room – bigger than a closet but smaller than a bedroom. There was a blow up mattress on the floor and in the middle of it was Dad, on his knees and bobbing his head up and down furiously on some fraternity cock. “You gotta wait in line, bro,” some guy next to me said as I pushed into the circle of college men. “But Kev says Daddy here gives better head than a whore.” True to the words, the guy being blown, a dark haired stocky dude, started moaning and looking down unbelieving before he tossed his head back. “Oh fuck!” he grunted as he fed Dad his frat-boy load. Dad slurped and sucked at the dribbles but didn’t waste time. He scooted right over to the next guy. “Fuck, it’s Horse’s turn,” came a deep voice. Dad had a noticeable smile as he undid the shorts and I swore my buff, gruff father actually whimpered when he watched that eight-inch softness plop out. Instantly Dad latched his mouth on it and started slurping the dong into his mouth. It was nasty to watch, particularly as Horse started getting an erection. He wasn’t a grower, thankfully, but that huge dick firmed up another inch or two in Dad’s mouth as my father started blowing him. My father couldn’t deep throat a cock this big, but he was clearly having fun sucking on a dick that size. “Go Daddy…. suck him,” one of the guys encouraged. We all watched as Dad steadily worked for another load. God, he was a pro all right. Just the right mix of focused technique and sexual abandon. Finally Dad backed off that huge phallus and took a deep breath. Then in one go swallowed that massive dick to the hilt. Eyes shut, his face pressed against Horse’s pubes, holding the fullness in his esophagus for a five-Mississippi count. Cheer erupted in the small room. “Fuck!” “Goddamn!” The other guys now all had their cocks out and some were stroking. I decided not to be shy. They seemed to have no idea who I was. Might as well join in the fun. Dad had a proud grin and set back to getting Horse off. Not deep throating him this time, but doing some incredible long mouth strokes on that long dick. It was working. Horse wasn’t showing the normal O face, but instead just looked down on Dad with a leer as his nuts started pumping. “Get it, Horse,” one guy said. “Cum in that slut,” another said. I half expected Dad to notice my presence but as he sucked the load and pulled off that spent monster dick, he was clearly in wild-sex mode. Pulling his sweatshirt off he reached down to undo his jeans. It was an obscene sight. “All right, men, I gotta get fucked. First guy has to use a little lube. After that I’m good to go.” “Fuck,” one of the guys said. “I think I’ll stick to BJs,” one fraternity brother said, a cute blond guy who knelt on the mattress and offered Dad his next cock. Dad swallowed it and went to town, clearly taking advantage of the more normal dick size. It was about a minute but one of the guys came back with some lube. Shucking down his jeans, the tall, buff, Kappa Sig-er dribble a little of lube on his hard prick and nudged it down between Dad’s hairy buns. He pressed right in, making Dad grunt around blond guy’s cock. Jesus, this was incredible to watch. Like the gangbang with the baseball guys back in Chicago, only wilder. Dad took three loads in succession as one college dude after another mounted his hairy, horny ass and fucked hard. I lost count of whose turn was whose, but I pressed my way in right after Number Three pulled out and pulled his T-shirt back down over his abs. He had a douche-y look on his face as he got up to his feet and pulled his jeans back on. “Fuck,” he grunted. “That’s some hot hole.” I was gonna find out. Again. I’d fucked Adam and Randy’s sloppy seconds the night before, but this was Dad pulling a train in some dimly light back room in the Kappa Sig house. I held on to his hips and fucked hard, harder than I had the night before. Dad took it too, no longer grunting defensively. It was pure sex moans as he sucked feverishly at the dick of the fraternity brother in front of me. That guy pulled out suddenly and stepped aside. “Don’t wanna cum yet.” But already another was taking his place, with a bigger, thicker tool that made Dad choke a little as he pressed in between the parted lips. Then Dad started doing something with his hips. Bucking his meaty ass back on my thrusting cock. Working me, practically twirking on my bone. The action got me off. I hissed a “fuck” then fired my load into my father. Some guy was tapping on my shoulder. Impatient. Apparently I was lingering too long in Dad’s ass after nutting. “Horse wants another turn,” the guy said. Sure, enough, that massive meat was bobbing next to my shoulder at full staff again, ready to split Dad’s ass open. *** I stuck around after cumming. Part of it was morbid curiosity. I wanted to see if Dad could take Horse’s huge dong. He could, somehow, only he wasn’t able to suck dick while Horse long dicked him. He wasn’t even able istanbul travesti to speak, he just cried and whimpered a litany of yeses while he got the shafting of the night. Part of me though was concerned. The evening had gotten out of control, and I wanted to make sure Dad would be OK. I don’t know how many of the guys Dad had sucked off before I got there, but I’d counted ten guys Dad had taken on since I’d gotten to the Fuck Room. Now the room was thinning out and as the last guy dumped his cum in Dad’s sloppy hole, it was just him and me. “You going for seconds, dude?” the fraternity guy asked, pulling his clothes back on. “Go for it,” he said. “The man’s a fucking slut.” Then he slipped out of the room and back into the party. My father was in a fuck daze, lying still belly down on that mattress. Almost like he was roofied. Damn. I helped him with his clothes. “Come on, Dad,” I said. “Let’s go.” I managed to get my father home. He seemed a little punch drunk as we made our way out of the fraternity house, but a couple blocks in, he got his composure back. “Thanks for looking after me, son,” he said softly. Maybe a little ashamed. He showered off when we got back and the second he crawled into bed, he was out like a light. His big lumbering body snoring as I tried to find a spare space in the double bed. I contemplated just taking the air mattress, but I was tired myself and wanted some sleep. I had a million thoughts battling in my head, but eventually I dozed off. Next to my slut dad. *** I woke up and immediately felt surprised. I hadn’t had a wet dream in years. But my bedsheets were soaked. It took me a second to realize my morning wood was full-on rigid and that most of the dampness in the sheets was from the side of the bed Dad slept in. The cum must have continued to leak out of his fucked hole through the night. My father wasn’t there, but when I put on some shorts and a shirt and made my way to the kitchen, there he was, his burly body on display as he wore just a pair of beat-up Chicago Bears shorts. He was in a chipper mood as he and my roommates were talking and sharing jokes. I had no idea if they’d just had sex. I wasn’t gonna ask. I just greeted everyone and poured my coffee. I was feeling a little sluggish. “Well, we gotta get to the gym, Mike,” Adam said as he gave Dad a fist bump. “You should come visit again soon.” “Definitely, Mr. G.” Randy chimed in. I examined his face for a cocky leer, but it was like he was talking to a good high school buddy or something. My dad smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Oh yeah, it’s been a blast. Another home game is in two weeks…. And you guys should come up to the city. You’re welcome any time.” I was low-key pissed Dad was putting the moves on my roommates, but after the whole weekend, I knew I had to reexamine my whole vision of him. My friends finally left to the gym, and I was worried Dad’s good mood would evaporate. But he was all smiles, even as he spoke heart to heart. “You’re mad at me, Jeff,” he said through a grin. “But face it, you had fun this weekend.” He had me. “Yeah, I guess I did.” Dad chuckled and licked his lips. I wondered if he was going to continue to grow his mustache in. “I can give you a little more fun before I hit the road.” My dick plumped up. I had a feeling it wouldn’t take me long to get my morning wood back. “Yeah?” I teased, spreading my legs. Dad got a flirty edge to his masculine face and his Midwestern accent came out strong. “You bet big boy. Drop the shorts and bring that dick up here.” Fuck, my dad was crazy. I was crazy for going along with this. But I stood up and made a show of lowering my shorts. Showing off my boner to my father. “You got a beautiful cock, son,” my father said, scooting up his chair closer to me and reaching up to cup my balls. “I love it.” “You love all dicks,” I teased. I thought for a second Dad would feel insulted, but he nodded. “Pretty much. Especially younger dick.” And like that he latched his mouth over my cockhead and started to lick and nurse the tip before taking me into his mouth. Friday’s blowjob had felt too eager on my part. Now, I was able to enjoy a nice, slow build up from a man who knew how to suck a dick. My father. I even made a game of trying to hold off. Watching the burly man hunched down and bobbing up and down, slowly at first then faster and faster. Working my rigid prick with long wet mouth strokes. The kind of pro blow job that turned you on more from the lewdness of the sight than from the sensations on your cock. Until the sensations on your cock start to feel really fucking great, too. “Dad,” I hissed. Letting him know how excited he was getting me and giving him some warning I was about to blow. But I’d seen how Randy hadn’t warned him. My roommate had just let loose and Dad didn’t seem to mind that one bit. That was the thought that had me shooting. It was like I hadn’t gotten off several times that weekend. My cum shot was thick and heavy and Dad moaned excitedly as he sucked it down like a tequila shot. I asked if he wanted to get off, but he just stood up with a hardon in his Bears shorts and shook his head. “Nah, I’m good, son. Gonna shower up and hit the road.” Funny how getting my rocks off changed my attitude. I didn’t care that dad had whored himself around campus. I didn’t mind that he was hitting on my friends. I just hoped he would visit in two weeks. After he got ready, I hugged him on our porch, then watched him walk down the sidewalk to his car. He was already pulling out his phone, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was heading over to get tagged by the waiter dude. Or maybe one of the fraternity brothers. Whatever. *** It was the next day when I got an Instagram invitation from my father. I didn’t even know the man had an Insta account, but there it was. BearsFanMike, and the handle had been active for a while. I didn’t bother scrolling through the history, but I saw an assortment of photos. Dad’s day-by-day progress pics of his mustache. “Like this fellas?” he’d caption and there would be a ton of replies. Somehow, Dad had thousands of followers. There were gym pics (“Nothing like leg” day below a picture of Dad’s meaty ass in compression briefs) and after-work pictures of Dad suited up with some hotshot young business bro – or business bros – next to him at happy hour. There was Dad at a college baseball exhibition game. “U Chicago Baseball’s biggest fan,” read the caption. Then a bunch of pics with him hanging out with the jocks at a party. Every Sunday there was a picture of beer bottle and a shot of the Bears game on the TV. And frequently Dad posted selfies of his meaty bod in one of his beat-up Bears T-shirts. Over the next months, I followed that account religiously. Watching Dad’s mustache grow fully in. Seeing him put on even more muscle. Seeing the parade of guys. There was Mac the waiter hanging out in Chicago with dad. Tons of photos of Dad and that college himbo week after week, almost domestic in their bliss, and I started wondering if Dad had found a new boyfriend. Until there was a new guy. Young, jocky dude posing with Dad at a Bears game. Then another, with a cockier dude smiling next to Dad, both men shirtless in Dad’s condo living room. Then there were my roommates, flanking Dad with big smiles. “Two’s better than one fellas ;)” Dad wrote. Oh fuck. Then there were the Illini game day pics, including one with Dad’s beefy torso painted to be the middle I in a line up of fraternity guys posing in front of their house. For the record, it wasn’t the Kappa Sigs. It was about the week before Christmas when I saw a picture from Dad in Palm Springs. In a speedo and his fur all matted down from the pool. He’d trimmed down, and while he still carried a meaty body, his build looked more muscular and his waist had just the hint of a belly. Dad was knee deep in the pool and surrounded by about a half dozen young guys. College age or under 25 – lean, jocky, all types – but all clearly enjoying being with Dad. Like they were star stuck. Or just happy to be getting laid. “Blast of a week with Daddy Mike’s Fan Club” read the caption. Then a follow up reply from him: “It’s a big club, too!” I had suspected that my father was becoming an Insta star, but the comments confirmed it. I didn’t usually read them, but I did now and fuck they were lewd. And Dad would “like” them or reply with a wink emoji. Or respond, “You should come join us next time, Big Boy” or “You sure rocked my world last night Little Buddy” or simply “Damn, I love lacrosse jocks.” I unfollowed the account. Some things it’s better not to know.

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