Morning Wood

By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
Artwork (c) 2013 by Eduardo

Illustration of Morning Wood

I woke up when my Daddy crawled into bed with me the morning after he returned. I was groggy, because he'd come back late last night and I'd heard him and Mom fighting. Something about "morning wood," he had it and she told him she wouldn't take care of it any more. Just another mystery a kid picks up and never, never gets explained.

But his big, warm arms were around me, I felt the strong, hairy, warm chest pressing against my back and his lips were right at my ear. "Morning, Son."

"Good morning, Daddy."

His hands were at my briefs, I only wore my Spiderman briefs to bed and he was slipping those from my body. I didn't fight him but didn't help him. I was confused.

"Not for me it isn't." Daddy whispered in my ear, a moist sound with a smell of unwashing morning breath that was powerful and rank. He smelled of old beer, of smoke, of sweat and oil and dirt and grime. He'd worked all day on a construction site and then went to a club after a quick dinner at a grimy fast food place, and he'd drunk a number of beers and other drinks, coming home at 11:00pm or so, mostly intoxicated, bellowing for my mother to come out and help him to bed, he wanted her now, damn it! After a period of noise, shaking sounds and moans and groans, had come the fight and the words, "morning wood." Mom worked at a Denny's, the morning shift, she left home at 5:30 a.m. and worked from 6:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. Daddy said she was damned well going to quit so she could take care of his "morning wood," and she had told him no, she wasn't. I fell asleep before that argument was over, and now it was early morning, just a little bit of light in the window that wasn't from the street lights, and Daddy was in my bed, holding me in his arms.

"No, not for me." Daddy said as his lips kissed me on the neck. His hands had finished pulling my briefs from my body and I felt his uppermost leg pulling up over me. My bare skin touched his bare skin and I realized that he wasn't wearing any clothes, either. Naked in bed with my naked Daddy.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" I asked as his hands stroked over my bare body, touching me from my shoulders to my chest to my stomach to my wiener, and there the fingers caught hold and stroked it.

I gasped and Daddy said, "Your mother didn't take care of my morning wood, Son. So I got to give it to you."

"Huh?" I said.

But Daddy moved and I was rolled over onto my stomach and Daddy was on top of me, he was sitting on my buttocks and I heard him spitting.

"It's going to hurt at first, Son, but then you'll like it." Daddy said, that husky moist sound still in his voice. He spit again and then he said, "Now here comes Daddy's morning wood, Son. Hold still and it'll hurt less."

I didn't understand until I felt it burrowing between my butt cheeks and at first I didn't recognize it. Then it hit my butthole and I knew what it was. Daddy had that funny thing wrong with his wiener. I'd seen it like that in the bathroom one morning when Daddy was in there, groaning and rubbing it like it hurt, then he'd seen me and cursed, slammed the door shut.

Now it was back, and pressing against my butthole and then.... "AAAhh!" I yelped, because Daddy had just pushed it into my butt, the big head of his wiener was inside me, inside me!

"Ow, ow, Daddy, it hurts, take it out, take it out!" I yelled.

"It'll only hurt a little while, Son." Daddy grumbled at my ear again. In all this time, while I'd heard him, smelled him, felt him, I hadn't seen him. Just a heavy presence on top of me in the bed in the dim light of morning, with everything still gray, dark, dark gray that wasn't black. And in that blackness, that grayness, there was this presence in my room, my Daddy, on top of me and his thick, heavy cock inside me.

He shoved at me again and I yelled anew as the huge prong drove deeper into me.

"That's it, Son, you're getting it, you're getting it." Daddy murmured wetly in my ear. "Good boy, take Daddy's dick, take it all. Good boy, good boy!"

"Take it out, take it out!" I moaned. "It hurts, Daddy, it hurts!"

"It's okay, Son, it's okay. Just a little more." Daddy pushed again and I moaned as the cock drove even deeper, as I felt the thick slap of his balls as he rammed them against my buttocks.

"Ohhhhhh, oh, ohhhhhh!" I groaned. "It hurts, Daddy, it hurts!"

"Good boy, good boy! Just a little more and it won't hurt anymore. Just hold still." Daddy ordered and I complied, shivering.

But his next movement was to pull his cock out of my butt, and it didn't hurt so much, until he shoved it right back in again. "Ah, ahhh, ahhhhhh!" Daddy murmured as he moved. "Yeah, Son, nice, nice and tight, boy, nice tight ass. Feels good, feels real good."

"Unh, unh, unh, unh!" I grunted as Daddy's body moved, as his dong slid back and forth, in and out of my ass.

"Yeah, Son, nice and tight, nice and tight, boy! Feels real good, boy, feels real good!"

"Oh, ooh, oh, Daddy!" I moaned.

"Starting to feel good now, isn't it, boy?" Daddy chuckled in my ear.

I didn't mean that at all, but I said, "Uh-huh."

"Then it's going to feel better when I do this." Daddy began to speed up his thrusts. I groaned again, it hurt, it was painful, it wasn't hurting as much now.

"You like that, Son? You like having Daddy's dick in your ass?" Daddy asked me.

"Uh-huh." I was lying again. I didn't want to know what would happen if Daddy thought I didn't like it.

"Good boy!" Daddy said and he rose off of me and onto his knees, his ham-sized hands hauling my body upwards by my hips and I was on my knees, my head still on my pillow, and one of Daddy's hands held me down there, until I stopped trying to pull away and held still, then he caught hold of my hips with both man-paws and began to really thrust his hard cock in and out of me. As he did, my Daddy began to growl like some angry dog, "Urrr! Urr, urrr, urrr, urrr!" with each hammer-like blow against my buttocks.

"Oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy!" I groaned.

"Yeah, baby, it's good, baby!" Daddy answered me. "Take care of my morning wood, boy! It's yours from now on, every morning, you're going to take my morning wood! Yeah, yeah, uh, uh, uh, uh!"

So this was what Daddy had meant about morning wood! He had it in his cock and he was using it to ram me in my ass back and forth, hard! I understood now, his cock was wooden and he had to make it go down and he was using my butt to make it go down!

So I began to move myself to help my Daddy fuck my butt, as he called it during the time that followed, a period of several long minutes during which I felt every second, Daddy was muttering about how good I was, how he loved to fuck me, how he loved my ass, loved to fuck my ass, like that. I picked up an education in a lot of words from that I'd never known, while Daddy's huge powerful body used his muscles to slam in and out of me over and over, faster and faster, as he moaned and grunted and groaned, his breaths a heavy, husky, fluttering sound, ah-huh, ah-huh, ah-huh, ah-huh! The words were gone now, all there was were the sounds of his body slapping my buttocks and my Daddy's grunts and groans and moans as he thrust against me, and my own lower moans as my poor ass ached from the movements. Every morning from now on? Oh, Daddy, no, it hurt! But I bit back the words, bit them all back, just grunted and moaned myself.

"Yeah, uh, huh, ah-huh!" Daddy guttered, "I'm coming, Son, I'm going to blow, going to fill your hot little ass full now!" All of those words took every breath he had in him, he stopped talking again, but his thrusts now had a harder, sharper edge to them, he wasn't moving in any smooth motions, he was shoving his cock into me and pulling it out as quick as he could, any way he could, and his breath was hard and fast and rapid.

"Coming, Son, coming, AH-AH-HAH-AH-AH-HAH-AH-HAH-HAH-HUH-HUH, HUH, HUH-HNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGHHHH!" The movements of his hips now were frantic, rough things that caused the pain to flare up anew.

And then I felt a sharply stinging sensation as Daddy's cock pumped a lot of hot sticky juice into me. I thought for a second that he was peeing, but then dismissed that, this couldn't be pee, he never called it "coming" before, it was always "pissing" or "taking a leak" or "whizzing," but never "coming" and so I felt this was something new that was happening.

Whatever "coming" was, this was hot, moist, sticky and it dripped from my ass and down my balls in thick clumps and it burned my insides all over and Daddy's cock was making a messy "slopping" sound as he kept on shoving in and out of me, even after he stopped moaning, and just was breathing heavy and hard, kept on moving and moving, jerky, uncoordinated, but moving in and out of me.

And then it was done and Daddy let go of me and he fell over onto his side away from me and I felt his cockhead pull out of me and I realized that it wasn't hard anymore, it was soft and flimsy and very much like my own cock felt like when I took a pee, so that it was slippery and hard to hang onto while I peed, and Daddy rolled on over onto his back and I looked at him now for the first time in the light that was now enough to show dirty colors instead of gray and I saw him lying on my bed, his huge powerful chest heaving up and down and his mouth open and his eyes closed, sweating hard and his cock was all wet and some white stuff stuck to the tip of it. So that was what had been "coming" out of his cock. That wasn't pee! That was my Daddy's morning wood! I had gotten it out of him.

"Oh, oh, ohhhh!" Daddy finally said. "Damned good ass, Son, damned good ass!"

I grinned at him, a sickly thing but Daddy took it as happy and he went on, "Yeah, my baby likes having Daddy's hard cock up his butt, doesn't he?"

"Uh-huh." I didn't dare say no now.

"Yeah, he loves it, even when that bitch mother of his doesn't." Daddy said to himself, or at least, I don't think he meant to say it to me. "Damned straight. Good boy. Just like his Daddy!"

I liked the sound of that and I did smile. Daddy looked at me again, smiling at him, and he looked over my head at the clock on the wall there and said, "Almost six-fifteen, Son. You want Daddy to make you some breakfast before you go to school?"

"Uh-huh." I said eagerly. I usually ate cereal or something else I could make myself, like Pop-Tarts. Mom made my lunch and it was in a bag in the refrigerator.

"Well, let's both take a shower and then I'll make you breakfast before I go to work." Daddy had to leave at seven o'clock to make it to work, I didn't leave for school until eight o'clock, and usually slept until Daddy left for the job. But the offer of a hot breakfast was enough to get me out of bed and happy.

Daddy fixed me eggs and sausage and toast for both of us and we ate together and Daddy took his own lunch-pail out of the refrigerator and said, "You be a good boy at school today, Son." and gave me a kiss on my forehead. Whenever I'd been out of bed before he left until today, he had always been sour, grumpy and unhappy. But this morning, he left with a big grin on his face, and whistled as he walked out to his pickup.

And so did I as I went into the living room to watch television for a while before I went to school.

Mom was home when I got home at four o'clock, of course, one reason she liked her job hours was because she didn't need to hire a babysitter for me, since I was old enough to get dressed and fix my own cold breakfast and walk to school (first grade, but that was nearly over and soon it would be summer), and when I walked home, she asked me, like she always did, "Well, Son, anything happen today?"

And by now, I was over being sore in my ass, mostly and feeling proud that I'd made Daddy happy this morning, so I simply blurted out, "Yeah, Mom. Daddy gave me his morning wood this morning before school!"

"He gave you what?" she asked, looking surprised.

"His morning wood. And he said I was good at it." I went on. "Daddy said I was a lot better at taking his morning wood than you were, so he's going to give it to me every morning from now on instead of you."

Mom was quiet for a time, and she looked at me, beaming proudly across the table, my after-school glass of chocolate milk and my cookie in my hands. Then a sort of resolution crossed her face, "Well, if that's what it takes to make him happy, then I guess that's fine with me," she said, "and you can just take care of him all the time from now on."

Sure enough, Daddy moved into my bedroom that very same night, and I'm not only taking Daddy's morning wood now, I take care of it other times of day, too!

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(The Story You Just Read is Available in the "Love That Boy of Mine" book)