Artwork (c) 2004 by Inocentius & Pervertida
"Eeeeeee!" came the sound from my sisters as they jumped up and down. Actually, "Eeeeee!" doesn't cover it, it was much more high-pitched, almost a whistle-like screech. But it was my younger sisters, twelve and thirteen years old (they'd been born only fifteen months apart) that were generating that squeal.
"What's going on?" I asked as I walked on into the kitchen. I'd just gotten home from school and planned on getting a snack before supper. But while my sisters were noisy all the time, this was about twenty decibels higher than usual.
"Sleepover!" they screamed together.
"When?" I asked. They were always having a friend or two over to sleep.
"Tonight!" They said together again. I swear, it was like having those scary identical twins living with you, the kind who seem to only have one brain between them. That was my sisters...a pair of half-brained girls!
"Oh." I said. "That's nice."
"Who else shall we invite?" Clara asked Sharon.
"Jennifer Heebly!" Sharon said. I think that's what she said, because "Eeeee!" they went again soon as the words were out.
"How many are they dragging over this time?" I asked Mom.
Mom smiled. "They're having a slumber party tonight." Mom explained.
I considered that, then gave my opinion. "Awwww, man!"
"Guess what?" Sharon said to Clara.
"What?" simpered Clara.
"If we invite Jennifer, her brother Tim will be the one driving her over."
"Eeeee!" they went again.
I knew Tim, he was a good-looking guy from my class. So I sneered. "Tim's not going to be interested in dweebs like you." I said.
I was then treated to the sound of a girl who had just been insulted. In stereo. The sound level was just as high, but at least it had syllables to it, not that I could understand either of them, they weren't repeating each other now.
"Steven, leave your sisters alone." Mom cautioned me.
"Fine by me." I said. "Only how am I supposed to get any sleep tonight? I have a test in chemistry tomorrow."
"So stay upstairs and study." Clara said to me.
"I've been studying." I said. "I'm ready for the test, I just need to get some sleep tonight."
"Ooh, I didn't think about that." Mom said.
"Guess you'll have to cancel the slumber party, huh?" I said.
"Mo-o-o-om!" Clara and Sharon protested.
"We won't cancel the party." Mother promised them. "Steve, can't you call a friend and stay the night with them, just this one time?"
I shrugged with what I hope was a noncommittal gesture. I only had two guys in school I could call a friend enough to call them up like that, and both of them were on an out-of-town trip with one of the sets of parents...I hadn't been invited along; he could only invite one friend. Not enough to lose a friend over, but it left me friendless just then.
Mother misunderstood. "Steven, you can at least ask them, can't you?"
I broke the news to her then, trying not to sound forlorn about it. It was only a couple of days without my friends, they'd be back, we'd go on other trips together, maybe even me and one of them, I was just odd man out this one time.
"But Steven, don't you know any other boys?" Mom pleaded with me.
Dad came in about then.
"No, Mom, not just now, not anybody I could call up and ask to spend the night." I glared at Clara and Sharon. "I'm not a girl, you know."
"Then you'll just have to stay here tonight and put up with the noise." Mom declared.
"What noise?" Dad asked.
"Slumber party!" the girls gave it to him in stereo.
"Tonight?" Dad said. "Yeesh, Ann, you could have talked with me about it."
"Why, what's wrong with the girls having a little party. They camp in the living room with sleeping bags, play music, play games."
"But does it have to be tonight?" Dad complained.
"That's what I said." I contributed. Dad and Mom often argued like this. It didn't get heavy enough to make me think things like they were getting a divorce, more just two married folks making up their minds the hard way, by fighting.
"Enough out of you." Mom cut me off.
"I got a test tomorrow." I complained. "How am I going to study for it?"
"I thought you were done studying." Sharon put in.
"A little more couldn't hurt, and then a good night's sleep." I said.
"How many kids they bringing over."
"A lot." I said.
Mom grimaced, nodded. "They're inviting a lot of their friends." Defensively. "A slumber party is more fun when there's a lot of people. And slumber parties are important."
"Important?" I blurted out. This was a new one on me!
"People form bonds at a slumber party, you can make a friendship that will last a lifetime or deepen one you already have. The girls deserve to have this slumber party and I won't have them shortchanged on it in any way!" Mom declared.
"But what about Steven?" Dad said. It wasn't that he favored me so much as they were having a fight and he was using whatever weapons he had.
"I've tried to get him to go to a friend's house." Mom returned. "Maybe we could work something out with a neighbor...."
Well, the argument went on for a while. I got tired of listening shortly after the above, and got my snack and headed upstairs. Mom and Dad would work something out.
Dad knocked on the door a bit later. "Hey, Steven, pack a bag." he said. "Everything you need for overnight."
"Sure." I said, getting up. I didn't want to sleep in a strange bed tonight, but the thought of a couple of dozen screeching girls downstairs ruining my sleep made it preferable. "Where am I sleeping tonight?"
"You mean where are we sleeping tonight." Dad said. "You and I are getting a motel room for the night. Turning the entire house over to your mother and sisters."
I considered that. "I'd better lock my door, then." I had a real front-door deadbolt on my door, which I'd gotten it when I caught Clara in my room one day without permission. One of those rare times when Mom and Dad agreed with me, I'd had to buy the lock myself, but was allowed to install it.
I didn't need much, just a change of clothes, hairbrush, toothbrush and such, and my schoolbooks. I wasn't kidding about having the chemistry test the next day. It all fit into my middle-sized suitcase.
Dad met me with his own bag (a gym bag) and said, "Come on."
"What about supper?"
"We'll grab burgers on the way to the motel."
"Okay." I said. This was going to be a novel experience, just Dad and me in a motel room together. We'd been out on trips together before, but always with friends of his, or I had my own room or such. Yep, this would be the first time it was just Dad and me in a single room.
Wish I'd brought something besides school books with me! After we got into that room, it looked like it was going to boil down to either watching television or trying to have a real conversation with my own father.
We settled for television. When a commercial came on, I looked at Dad. It was like seeing what I'd look like in another twenty years. He was just this side of forty but carrying it well. His job was at a warehouse, mostly running a forklift but there was enough physical labor to keep his body sturdy and sleek. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his bicep and formed a band that his muscle flexed and attempted to burst every time he moved his arm.
Dad looked over at me, and smiled. "Need me to turn off the television so you can study?"
"Nah." I shook my head. "I'm okay. I studied during lunch hour and stuff." I said. "I just didn't want to listen to Clara and Sharon and a dozen other girls screaming all night."
"Slumber parties are hell on us guys." Dad agreed. He stood up, yawning. "I'm going to get undressed. Want me to go into the bathroom?"
I shook my head no.
"Good." Dad said as he lifted those massive arms up to his chest and his brawny fingers began to undo his shirt buttons. "I hate taking my clothes off in the bathroom. Always bumping into things." He finished his shirt and shrugged his shoulders as he worked it off. That left a tank-top t-shirt, ribbed white cotton straining across his stomach, abdomen ridges in oval pairs that disappeared into his jeans. Above that, his chest was a huge shelf of muscle that fed into his arms. Yep, Dad may be nearing forty, but his body was far from turning into slush!
Dad pulled up his t-shirt while his feet alternated with the toes tugging off the slip-on shoes he favored after work. He ended up bare-footed and bare-chested at the same time.
By now I was frankly staring at him. Dad unbuttoned his jeans and I saw the bulge of white cotton briefs underneath.
"Should you be getting ready for bed now too?" Dad asked me.
I looked up from his basket to his face and blushed. I could feel the heat in my face, and I stammered, "Uu-uh, uh, yeah, I'd, I'd-I'd better."
I turned around and started undoing my shirt. I'd already kicked my sneakers off, but still had on my socks. With my shirt off, I sat down on the bed and skinned off the athletic cotton socks, and then turned around. By then, Dad was already in bed, lying on top of the covers, wearing just a pair of pajama bottoms, hands under his head, making his pecs into elongated triangles, watching the television. By now, it was just the late-night news.
Dad looked over at me as I reached for my pants, and I realized I was in the same position he'd been in when I was staring at him. But with one important difference. I wasn't wearing any underwear! Nothing too surprising about this, hardly my regular wear, but that day, while I was in the showers after my gym class, someone had stolen mine from my locker. A joke, of course, but it left me briefless the rest of the day. Then I'd gotten home and, well, you saw what happened afterwards.
I got unbuttoned and unzipped before I remembered, then I blushed again. Dad could see my pubic hairs in the fly of the opened jeans. "Oops!" I said, "forgot I wasn't wearing underwear. Guess I need to put on a pair to sleep." That was how I slept, in my briefs of the day before, changing them when I took my morning shower. I had a clean pair in my suitcase.
"Why aren't you wearing briefs?" Dad asked me.
I blushed and explained, he just laughed. "Yeah, I know, they do that when you're in school. Hell, they do that when you get out of school, too. What'd you do about it?"
"Nothing." I said. "Just got dressed without them, like I'd planned it that way."
Dad nodded. "Best way to handle it."
I beamed at the praise. "I'd better get mine out of the suitcase." I said. My suitcase was over against the wall, the other side of Dad's bed.
"What for?" Dad asked.
"Need to sleep in them." I said.
"Fine by me if you don't." Dad said. There was a softness in his voice that generated...intimacy. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that said I could relax around him and just be myself.
"Thanks." I said, and grinned. "Always wondered what it felt like to sleep naked."
"Same as with the briefs, only you'll find your balls getting in the way sometimes when you move your legs." Dad said. "If you're used to just sliding your legs across each other instead of lifting them up, you'll squeeze your nuts flat every time, or pinch a piece of your ballsac. Or at least I always did, back when I did it." Dad's thighs were pretty large, too, muscled up more than mine. His job really must keep him hard at work all day every day, that or he was just a guy who put on muscle mass easily.
I'd never seen Dad sleep in anything but a full set of pajamas. Mom, either. "So why'd you stop?" I asked him.
"You came along." Dad said. "You and your sisters. Never knew when we'd have to jump out of bed and run into your rooms or around the house. It makes a man wear pajamas." He grimaced. "A shame, something dies when a man and woman stop sleeping nude. There's something about having someone's naked body touching yours all night long that is just really special. You lose that and you never seem to get it back."
I considered that. Like I said, something intimate had sprung up between us, the two of us alone together, that one room (with two beds), the night around us, the yellow light overhead giving the room a somewhat unreal aura about it. Like what happened here was something somehow separate from the rest of the world. So I considered my mother and father and what their sex life must be like and didn't like the answer I got. "You and Mom don't do it much anymore, huh?" Not that I had been spying on Mom and Dad, but there was a sort of businesslike movement to their lives, no touching beyond what was necessary, no smiles, no kisses goodbye in the morning. Not cold, but not warm, either. It wasn't such a stretch to figure the bedroom activities were similarly neutral.
Dad grinned ruefully. "Not as much as I'd like to, anyway." he said. "Your mother treats sex as something that is either a wife's duty to her husband or the way to have those children you wanted and nothing else. She's got her children now, and her sense of duty is wearing kind of thin." He grimaced. "Her body isn't so good anymore, either."
I nodded sagely at that. Considering Mom as a sex object (like I said, this was an unreal world I was in, I could do that here, now), she was flabby and didn't make much effort to make herself pretty, jeans and a knit-top were her favorite garb.
"Have you talked to her about it?" I suggested.
"Only about once a week for the last ten or twelve years." Dad assured me.
"What about counseling?"
"Worked for a while, but things slid back to the way they were." Dad said, shifted uncomfortably. "Why am I having this talk with my own son?" He asked me, or maybe himself...or both.
I shrugged, smiled, "Isn't that what people do at a slumber party?"
"Wouldn't know, never been to one." Daddy said.
"Men don't have them." I agreed. "Maybe we ought to, huh?"
"Okay, your turn." Dad said. "I told you my secret, now you tell me yours."
"Which one do you mean?" I said.
"If I knew that, it wouldn't be a secret." Dad pointed out and I laughed. "But seriously, son, I've just been wondering why you don't date much."
"I go out." I defended myself.
"But not just you and a girl." Dad said. "I was your age, I had girlfriends, at least now and then. You go to parties, you go out with your friends, you go places with groups. Just never you and a girl."
I lowered my eyes and mumbled, "Just haven't found anyone yet."
Looking down, I realized I still had on my pants and they were unzipped. I'd been sitting there talking to Dad like that. I stood up, said, "I should get ready for bed."
I turned my back and pulled down my pants, planning to crawl quickly into bed. But as I stepped out of my jeans, them puddled into an oval with two holes at my feet, Dad said, "You haven't answered my question."
"Well, Dad, I don't know." I said. Mumbled, rather, barely coherent. "It just doesn't seem to work for me, you know? Nobody feels right."
"I didn't mean to pressure you, Son." Dad said.
"It's all right." I said, pulling back the covers of my bed.
"Yeah?" I said, one knee on the bed.
"Turn around and come here."
I turned around and said again, "Huh?"
Dad held up his arms. "Come lie here next to me. I want to say something to you."
I got closer and stopped.
"No, all the way into bed. Lie down and let me put my arms around you."
I did it, and my stomach was fluttering like a piece of newspaper stuck on a branch, flapping in the breeze in tatters. Every now and then, a piece of it breaks off and floats away.
I lay down and Dad did put his arms around me, but it wasn't sexual again, it was my dad holding me, bringing our two bodies right up against each other.
"What is it?" I asked through numb lips.
Dad pressed his forehead to mine, his eyes right up at mine, looking into my very soul. Very slowly, carefully, he said, "Son, you are what you are. And it's all right. I'll always love you just the same."
God! God, yes!
I reached up to hug Dad back. "Thanks, Dad."
I didn't want to turn loose of him. Turning loose would have ended this moment, and I didn't want to let it go! So I kept on hugging him and he kept on hugging me.
Slowly, our hands moved, me feeling him, knowing he was there, really, truly there, and his hands moved on me, reassuring me that he mean what he'd said.
It seemed natural enough to kiss Dad after a time. It was just a kiss of a father and a son.
After a moment, a second kiss, and it was mostly the same.
His hands took on a stronger tone to them, less the nurturing father and more the possessing man. I didn't worry about that, my own hands were doing the same, feeling the strength in this virile body next to mine, it felt so good. And it was inhabited by a spirit that loved me, really loved me.
I kissed Dad again, and this time, there wasn't anything fatherly about it. It wasn't me forcing anything from Dad, or him forcing anything from me. It was like something had awakened that both a part of both of us, and yet something new and different, too. It was...an awakening.
One of Dad's hands reached my uppermost buttock and grabbed hold. He squeezed it pretty hard, but it didn't hurt me any. What it did was send a spear of raw sexual energy directly into my cock, while it had been slowly filling and arousing up until now, this shock of power galvanized it and it hardened. That sexual potency took control of my loins, sent my hips bucking to ruck up against his thigh, to grind my prick against his pajama-covered leg.
"Ah, ah, Son!" Dad sighed. "Son." he said again after a while.
"I know." I responded. "I know, Dad."
He kissed me again and this time it was totally man-on-man, totally aroused bestial masculinity expressed in lips, and my own were no less fervent upon his! My entire body had been stirred into action now, I was hunching against his leg, and he shifted and now my upper leg was in between his, and I felt his prong, the hard, raw shaft of it, rubbing against my leg.
Dad didn't have on any underwear either! The pajamas were either unbuttoned or didn't have buttons for the fly, either way, his cock had slid right out of the flap and was touching me, hot flesh against my skin, and I felt its heat and its slick moistness sticky on my thigh, and he rubbed against me.
I pulled my lips off of his and lifted myself away from his face, his arms. I wasn't ending this; I was clearing myself for action; I continued to grind away at him even as I slid myself down his body, pausing only once to kiss that pert nub of nipple that taunted my cheekbone as I moved, I rolled the nub on my tongue and Dad groaned, and I slid down, down.
If you haven't noticed it yet in my story, I was still a virgin, but I knew well enough what I was supposed to do, in general. I'd seen some porn videos at a friend's house one weekend I slept over and so I knew what to do, I caught Dad's prod in my lips and I tasted its searing fire and the burning glans was a balm upon my tongue, a warm ball of joy, and then I closed upon it and I pressed my lips down as my tongue lapped at his cockhead.
Dad sighed, moaned again, no words now, I think both of us were afraid of what we'd say, what we'd have to do if we said anything. I was nursing his huge pud, and Daddy was sighing, breathing heavy. After a time, he said, "Ah, Gah, Suh, Gah!" Half-formed words, only the front half escaping, the back half being bitten back to die upon his tongue unsaid.
As Dad fought off saying anything, his hands suddenly reached down and caught my head, and he was groaning now, his hands took control of me and where I'd been sucking him slowly and carefully, he forced me to faster movements, it was all I could do to hold on, not bruise his manhood with my teeth, not pinch his pride with my chokes, but to service him in silence while his brutish subconscious had its way with me.
I couldn't stop this power that had awakened in Dad, all I could do was divert it, and I did by scooting around in the bed, so that my feet were near his head and I pressed forward and now my knees were at his head, my feet folded back to make room at the head of the bed, closer, closer, now my dong slapped his shoulder.
"Uh, huh, huh!" Daddy panted and then he moved himself, just a little and I had more room, I shifted again and this time my cock kissed his cheek and when it did, Dad turned and I felt his velvety lips catch it!
I groaned, God, the raw joy of that touch, the feel of a man's mouth upon my cock, it was wet and it was warm and it was soft and it was vibrant and it was alive! Dad's mouth clutched me tight and he was moving now like I was, only his sucking wasn't at all gentle, Dad was miking my dong like he needed my jism and needed it right away!
I wanted this to last, really I did, but the sensations were just piling up in my body, I had my Dad's cock in my mouth, my first cock ever, and that was magnificent, and I had my Dad's mouth on my own dick, and that was exquisite, and I had the sounds of lovemaking in my ears, both our throats venting our need in guttural rumbles, and I had this room, this moment, this place and time, and that turned the magnificent, exquisite pleasure into something that transformed my entire self, a complete change in my spirit occurred at that instant.
Is it any wonder then, as I was transmuted into my new self, that I couldn't control my body's urges, I transformed and I was on the verge of climax, far too late to stop it, I could only let it maul my mind and temper my new spirit with the fires of its forge, and in that moment, there was the orgasm of all orgasms, and I knew that I could never turn my back upon this now, I could only let it become a part of me, and I accepted my lot and gave out a lusty groan that shook the walls, maybe, and when I did, I ejaculated and squirted my seed right into Dad's mouth and throat.
Dad startled and choked a bit in surprise, but he recovered quickly and then he was sucking me harder now, not just pleasing me but siphoning off my juices, drinking down my man-sap, and as I finished, Dad's body briefly took charge of me again, this time his hips bucking at my mouth, but it was only a moment's work and then he was squirming beyond the need to fuck my face and his cock grew hot as a brand in my mouth and he jetted his jism into me, hot, salty, slick, rich man-fluid, and when I tasted it, I wanted it, all of it, and it was there for me as I wanted it, all I had to do was swallow in gratitude.
Done, we were silent for a time, panting the only sounds in our room, and then there was the time after that, the moment after the transformation, and I wondered if that was how it was when you attended a miracle, there was a time when it was over and you were left with the world as it was before again, and you can only look about and try to see what has changed and how you will deal with it.
I did the best I could think of, I squirmed back around and got back into Dad's arms, and they closed upon me gratefully. He couldn't think of anything to say, either. He just stroked my face with his hand, his face so gentle and kind and I smiled and my own hand brushed up and down upon his ribs, not my prime choice of where and how to touch him, but all I could do and still remain where I was and how I was.
After a time, I came up with the words I needed to say. "I love you, Dad."
"I love you, too, Son." Dad said. He paused, cleared his throat. "You'd better get some sleep now. You have school in the morning."
"I know." I said. I got out of his arms and out of his bed (oh, God, how that hurt to do that) and entered my own cold container, pulled the sheet and blanket over me, and Dad turned out the light.
Sleep? Who could sleep after that! I lay there and after a time, I heard Dad get up. I figured he was going into the bathroom, but he lifted up my covers and crawled into bed with me. All in silence, never a word, just crawled in and when he placed his body up against mine, I could tell he had removed his pajama bottoms entirely.
There is something about the naked touch of a lover's body upon your own. Dad had said that, earlier, and it was so true. With that touch came the answers my heart was seeking, with a response that was beyond words, for it was simple truth undiluted by language.
Dad loved me. Whether or not we would ever repeat this lovemaking didn't matter so much as the permanency of that promise. I hoped we'd do it again, maybe even again this same night. But even if we didn't, my Daddy loved me and always would.
And so, secure within my father's arms, arms that would never leave me or betray me, I went to sleep, there to follow dreams that nightmares could never blemish or betray.
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