Part One: Finally Big Enough ... {gay incest/father-son}

My Dad and I grew up in a world where it was just a given that I was gay. That he was gay. That males loved males. I laughed and said “Eww” at the sight of mixed people holding hands or kissing. I thought it was because they knew it was funny too and that guys were supposed to be with other guys. And girls were supposed to be with other girls. They did it in school too.

Girls paired up with other girls and the boys hung out with other boys. But I didn’t know that my simple view of the world was incomplete until I was around 10 years old.

My Dad took me to a wedding. I happily sat down in my seat next to him. I was dressed in clothes that were a little tighter than what I was used to, but he said that I looked very handsome and gave me a kiss on the lips after he pulled a little on my bow tie. I was very aware of how my heart felt at that moment as I looked up at him and smiled with all my teeth that he made sure was clean after we had breakfast.

As I looked up front I saw a lady wearing a funny robe like dress holding a book in one hand as she talked with a man dressed in black. I knew that she was the one to marry who was getting married. Next to the guy where other men dressed the same way. I thought that the two of them were going to get married, but I didn’t understand what we were waiting for. Were they changing their mind?

Then the music started and people stood up. I stood too and looked where everyone was looking and saw this other guy walking with a lady in white down the walkway. I looked back to the front and saw the guy at the front who got a slap on his back from the man next to him and then looked back at the older guy walking down. He was older than I expected. Like really old. This was going to be a short marriage I believed.

As he walked by me I really saw how old he was. He was way older than my Dad. Then when he got to the front, he kissed the lady who was holding his hand and gave her hand to the guy who was standing up there all this time. The older guy then turned and walked over to another lady that hugged him.

Little things I dismissed during my short 10 years that I’ve been alive came to mind. I’ve seen Mommies and I’ve seen Daddies, but very rarely had I seen a pair of them together. I sat down with everyone else and did some heavy thinking for my 10-year-old self for the rest of the service. I saw as they kissed near the end, and I still thought it was gross, but I saw it as them tasting each other to see I they liked them enough to have a child for some reason.

By the time we got home that night, I had eaten two helpings of fried fish. Tasted and liked fish eggs on crackers. Got cherries and nuts in my ice cream from the people hired to make them in front of us at the party before I fell asleep on my dad after playing hide and seek for over 2 hours. When I was made to walk to the car as we left, I remembered the old man, then the woman in white and the man in black dancing and then the conclusion I came up with before I found some other kids to play with. They wanted a baby and needed to marry each other for that to happen.

The years went by and little by little I learned more about the world around me. I think I paid more attention to things around me and I saw how more people around me lived their lives as opposed to how I did. But despite learning that some men loved and married women and not just to have a baby, I still felt that men being with men wasn’t wrong along with women being with women.

I never got the attraction to the other ‘sex’ as they put it. The only one I ever kissed and continue to kiss was my Dad. But even that changed once I turned 16.

I don’t know if I had changed, or if Dad had changed. But on one unremarkable Thursday in late fall, as I was heading to bed, I stopped to kiss Dad good night and I tasted him. He was the same, but different at the same time. I found myself kissing him again where my lips stayed in contact with his longer than normal. I gasped into his mouth as his arms wrapped around me and he kissed me back like I saw in the movies.

I knew what was happening, I wasn’t so innocent to the way the world worked by this time. I knew about sexual attraction and the four bases and how to have sex. I also knew that as much as we all said back in kindergarten that we were going to stay with our mommies and daddies, that we were suppose to grow up and find other people to love, make love to and get married to. But not always to the same person unless we were very lucky.

But every time I jerked off, the image of my Dad was there somewhere, even though I constantly pushed it away. But tonight he pulled me towards him. He pulled me down into the chair he was sitting in and pulled me across his lap as his hands on the back of my head and in between my shoulder blades had me feeling his heart beat against my chest.

Then almost as abruptly he broke the kiss and we breathed while just looking into each other’s face.

“Good Night Nate,” he said a second before he released me.

“Night Dad,” I told him. I almost leaned in again for another kiss out of habit but stopped myself before I started this all back over again. I got up and went to bed.

Overall my days didn’t change after that. We acted the same, said the same things and it didn’t feel odd or different when we just hung out watching tv or were in the car together. What did change was how we now kissed. They were no longer quick pecks like before. We tasted each other. I was still a little smaller than my Dad so he would pull me and hold me to his body while I also held him close, as best as I could, as my mind spun and my breathing was reduced to ragged breaths by the time we stopped.

We stopped kissing in public so we never had to remember to keep it quick and short. We were at home most of the times since I kissed him goodnight every night. After about a month or so, he started to kiss me good morning. They were only the old short kisses if I already had something else in my mouth at the time.

I lived for those long kisses for the next six to eight months. Then on the first night after my seventeenth birthday, my Dad’s hands didn’t just hold me to him. They roamed over my body. They felt my chest. They slid around my waist. He palmed me from the outside of my pants or pajamas.

By the time he stopped, I was shaking from everything that was being pumped through my blood. I was so fucking horny that once or twice I asked him to keep going so I could come with his hands on me, but he always stopped and said that I wasn’t ready yet or it wasn’t time. Which I never understood. I was turned on and more than ready for him to jerk me off. As for the time, it was bedtime. What other time would be better to do this?

Months later, maybe four, he did. He breathed acceptance into my mouth. We were standing in the hallway halfway between my bedroom and his and just outside the bathroom. I had waited for him to finish using the bathroom before I told him that I was going to bed.

I opened my mouth to tell him goodnight, but he didn’t give me the chance. Before any words left my lips, he had them covered with his. We took turns moaning, but mine was louder than his as his hand moved under my shirt and pulled at my nipples before moving back down and under the waist of my pajamas. He grabbed my penis and balls in his large hand and gave them a squeeze and pull before he flattened his hand to rub them all at once. I pushed my body into his hand and held on to his nightshirt as I went back and forth between kissing his lips, sucking his tongue and crying out in delight into his mouth. I saw myself coming in his hand and I had to ask him again even if it stopped him and I had to finish up myself in my room.

“Daddy, please,” I quietly begged.

“Do you want me to get you off that badly?” he asked sounding as turned on as I was.

“Yes,” I quickly answered.

“Ok, I’ll do it,” he finally said. The words vibrated down my throat and I swallowed them happily before I opened my eyes and looked at his face for the first time since he came out of the bathroom. “What do you use to jerk off with?” he asked me. I looked back at him a little funny not sure what to say.

“My hand?” I asked and told him at the same time. At this, he laughed before he kissed me again and just held me before to pulling away to look into my eyes again.

“I know, but what do you use to keep from burning yourself. Do have something to make your cock wet and slick?” he clarified. As I finally understood I relaxed as much as I could and smiled up at him.

“Baby oil,” I confessed.

“We still have some?” was the first thing he said. I nodded my head before I reluctantly walked away from him and into my bedroom to get it. We had a bottle in the bathroom, but I used that up the first week I realized how good it felt and since Dad never asked about it, I thought I didn’t have to put it back in the bathroom and just kept it in my room. I pulled it out from between my mattress and box spring before I turned around to take it back to Dad when I saw him enter my room.

“Lay down,” he told me now as he came closer. I sat down on the side of my bed and looked at him as he sat next to me. His hand reached out for my face and grabbed the back of my head to bring our lips back into contact again. I felt as he took the bottle but I didn’t care, I kissed him back with everything in me. Having him lay half across my body was a new sensation that I was fully enjoying as he laid us back onto my bed. I completely missed the motion of his hand as he pulled down the front of my pajamas and underwear. It was when he got a hold of my dick and pulled it out into the open that I gasped and froze for a moment.

I think Dad took that moment to pour some of the oil onto his hand because the next gut-wrenching moan came out of me when I felt his fingers as they smoothly slid down to my crotch and his fingers moved around to say hello to my balls. My ass came off the bed as I pushed up on my toes at the sensations.

“You aren’t making this easy on me,” Dad whispered into my ear before he fisted my dick in his hand and started to pump away. My left hand clutched at my bed sheets. My right hand held on to the back of his shirt as he kissed every part of my face and neck as his hand with warm slick fingers jerked me off as I saw stars floating under the ceiling in my room. They grew in number as my breath became ragged. Then, like everything else that made me up, they exploded and my sight was devoured by whiteness.