An O'Brien Family Affair #1

When Mom and Dad got a divorce, it was no surprise to me. They had fought like cats and dogs for years. Nor was the division of us children any real surprise. They had my older brother, now in the Army, me about to start my senior year of school, and my two sisters, both in their early teens. When you add in that Dad had just gotten a job on a construction site in Los Angeles and I wanted to attend college at UCLA, it made a lot of sense for Dad to move out to live in Los Angeles, and for me to go with him.

We settled into a routine pretty quickly, me getting used to a new school and friends, Dad with his new job and own friends to make and fun to have.

I hadn't really thought about Dad being lonely. But one Friday night, he came home late and a bit drunk, I began to realize that was probably what the problem was. I fixed coffee and made him drink it, talked to him for an hour while waiting for it to work. The alcoholic confessions he made were very embarrassing, but I really thought of my Dad as a human being for the first time that night. When he seemed all right, I left to take a shower. I let the shower play over my body (getting muscled nicely thanks to the workout room at my new school), and thought about it. Dad was sitting in the living room now, watching television.

Drinking that much just wasn't like him. Not my Dad. Shoot, Dad was a good-looking stud still. He wasn't even forty yet. Mother and he had married when he was younger than me, always a mistake, but he was still young enough to get over it and build a new life for himself. Construction work had built his body up into a muscled machine that showed with his plaid sleeveless shirts and tattered blue jeans that were his regular work wear. His biceps were the size I wanted, giant sized without being obscenely big. His chest with its expansion to match his broad shoulders, his deep brown hair and moustache, his face built along noble lines, but battered by life, which made him look even more
masculine...

I rubbed my cock thinking about my Dad's body, caught myself and stopped the shower. Time for me to go check on him anyway.

I dried myself quickly, looked for my robe, realized I didn't know where in that disorganized pile in my room I had left it, and settled for wrapping the damp towel around my waist. Hell, it was just the two of us in the apartment.

We didn't have a door between the hallway and the living room, so I got all the way into the room before I realized what Dad was doing.

He had turned the channel to some R-rated movie that had a guy and chick faking lovemaking. He had stretched his long legs out across the rug, his buttocks resting on the edge of the couch, his jeans unbuttoned, and his stiff cock was in his hand, seven or eight inches, thick and uncut, and he was stroking it while watching the screen.

I was out of his line of sight to the left, but if I moved, he'd see me. I stood where I was and watched him stroke his dick, eyes fixed to the screen. I reached down and felt my cock through the towel, watching Dad. He was really whomping that sausage of his now, while the chick on the screen was yelling with fake passion, and his head was rolling on the top of the couch. His hardhat was perched there, and when he tossed too hard, he jiggled the cushions too much and the hat rolled to the seat beside him. He reached for it, and that was when he saw me.

"What the shit?" he said, startled, and his big beefy hands moved to cover his crotch.

I blushed, I'm sure. "Sorry, Dad." I stuttered. "I didn't mean to stare or nothing."

His eyes went down my frame, and I realized I still had my hands at my crotch. I jerked my hand away, but it didn't do any good; I had a boner and it was pushing the towel up in front of me.

"You were enjoying the show?" He asked. He didn't seem mad.

"Yeah." I said. I didn't say which show.

"Well, come on over and watch it with me. Hell, you're of age. I called the Playboy channel while you were in the shower. Then I kind of got carried away."

I grinned kind of sheepish-like and went over to sit beside him. He kept his hands firmly in place, and seemed to have forgotten what he was doing when he first saw me.

Well, they changed the show to another chick taking a shower. I don't know why anyone would think that was exciting. I wouldn't have been interested even if it was a cute guy taking that shower. Or would I have been? Hell, they didn't have a gay version of the Playboy channel and, at my age, I hadn't seen much porno of any kind.

Still, I sat there and pretended an interest in what was going on, hoping Dad would move his hands and give me another glimpse of that cock of his. I wanted to see it up close.

I rubbed at my crotch again while sneaking glances. His hands were still holding their cover pattern, but his fingers were pulsating, kind of rubbing at his captive cock without moving.

"You like this, son?" Dad said after a while.

"Yeah, but it's kind of hard to sit still during it." I admitted.

Dad laughed. "Well, you're man-sized now, with a man's needs. When a man ain't got a woman, he's got to take care of his own needs. You ain't found one yet, and I lost mine. So here we are, Kevin and Kelly O'Brien, just two bachelors who have to take care of ourselves."

That was a come-on line if ever I heard one. I felt brave enough to say, "Yeah, Dad, I sure need to take care of my problem right now."

"Well, take it out and beat it, son. I won't watch."

"You got your own problem, I can tell." I pressed.

"I'm not sure we should do it together." he hesitated.

"Aw, come on, Dad. There's just the two of us. I think it'd be kind of friendly if we were to do it together. I won't tell if you won't."

"Well...maybe." Dad wasn't used to drinking and his head was still fuzzy from it. I should have been ashamed of myself, but I wasn't. I didn't know if I'd ever have this chance again.

"Come on, Dad. Let me see it. And I'll show you mine." I lifted my buttocks and pulled the towel away; my cock was standing up, begging for attention. Mine was cut, but other than that, it seemed a close match with Dad's. "Let's see how close our family resemblance is." I actually reached over to his groin and pulled one hand away. "Let's see it." I insisted.

Dad hesitated, then he lifted his hand. God, he had been hiding a hard one! Thick, uncut, leaking precome from its slit, it sprang up and pointed at the ceiling, eight inches at least.

"God, that's a beautiful cock you got, Dad."

"Yours doesn't look so bad, either, son." he said. Neither one of us was looking at the screen and that chick with her soap fetish. We were feasting our eyes on each other's meat.

I wet my lips, gulped hard. "Can I touch it, Dad?"

"Well..." He hesitated again, which was all I waited for. If he had really meant no, he would have said it right out, like he always does. That hesitation was as good as a yes to me. I reached over and wrapped my hand around it, and it felt red hot and hungry. Dad just kind of moaned as I stroked it for him, my other hand beating time on my own.

Then his rough hand snaked up under my arm and took my cock away from my hand, callouses pushing in like soft knobs under his skin on his palm. I sort of sighed and scooted down to the position he was so he could get a good grip on me. "That feels terrific, Dad." I said.

We pounded each other for a while like that, but I stopped when his cock felt like it was heating up for an orgasm. I didn't know if I'd ever get a chance like this again, and I wasn't going to waste it. I let go, and before he could finish his next sentence, he got his answer.

"Why'd you let go, Kevin? Oooh!"

I had gotten down on the floor, pivoted on my knees and dived for his cock with my mouth. I got a good grip and managed to cram it most of the way down my throat before his hands got a hold of my head and forced me back up.

"What are you doing, son?" He seemed half-puzzled, half-mad.

"I want to suck on it a while, Dad. Can I please?"

"You been sucking cocks, son?" Still half-puzzled.

"Well, Troy and I used to all the time before he left for the Army. He and I kind of took care of each other."

"I see. Keeping it in the family."

"What's that?"

"Your Uncle Frank and I used to do the same thing." He admitted to me. "Feels better than milking your monkey yourself."

"Then can I suck it, Dad?" I begged. "Please?"

"I don't know. Brothers doing it is one thing, but a father and son...."

There was that hesitation again. A kid gets to read his parents so easily. "It's the same thing." I said. "Nobody's business. We keep it an O'Brien family affair."

He laughed like that was a good joke instead of an unintentional pun. "A family affair. I like that." But he had let go of my head and his cock was still shining with my saliva.

I dived back onto his cock and this time he didn't resist me at all. Just lay there and rubbed my head with his hands and those thick calluses that felt so good, like the bumps on a massage machine. I took him deep and long; this was my Dad who I loved and I wanted all of him. I wanted that come of his, the very sperm that had brought me and my brother to life and let us feel the pleasure we had with each other, I wanted it in me. It seemed so very right, and so very desirable to drink down the milk of life itself.

I put a powerful suction on him with thoughts like this, ignoring any discomfort at taking that big cock of his so deep, and he was jerking and thrashing underneath me, the lights glinting off of old sweat on his body and giving him a sheen that made him more like a fantasy figure than a real man.

His grunts reached a fever pitch, his hands grabbed me and forced me to take his cock down to the base, and he shot his load that way, so deep down my throat that I barely felt it and couldn't taste it at all. I didn't care. I had made my father come. I had the milk of life in me.

After he finished, he let go and I carefully sucked him as dry as I could before I let go. My own cock had been begging for attention but I'd been too busy before. I got to my feet, my knees burning from the cheap carpet they'd been ground into, and my schlong pointed at my father's face.

"Hold it right there, son." Dad ordered, and I stopped. Would he?

He did! He caught his breath quickly, shifted in his seat, his hands reached up to cup my buttocks and he reached with his face to nibble and suck at my cockhead, slowly greasing it with his saliva to work it down. As my cock slid into his mouth and started slowly, easily down his throat, I moaned. My fingers threaded into my Dad's hair, feeling the greasy slickness of a day's work on him and the tickle of his moustache on my pubic hairs. His suction was terrific, and he was clearly getting off on sucking his son's cock. I was eighteen with its overpowering horniness; I didn't last two minutes before I was groaning as loudly as he had, giving him a warning I was about to come.

He wanted my seed as much as I had wanted his, for he didn't let go, just kept sucking at me while I erupted, shooting my load onto his tongue and down his throat, I could feel the powerful spurts jet from my body into his warm mouth, and he milked me like a hungry animal, getting every bit of my jism out of my cock and into his body.

I nearly fell after I finished, and sat down quickly beside him. Dad grabbed my shoulders and lowered me onto the couch, stretched himself out on top of me and kissed me gently and lovingly, our tongues tasting each other and he was so slow and gentle. He was in no hurry to finish this. And neither was I.

"You'd better get some sleep, son." he said after a time and glancing at his watch. "It's 2:00 a.m."

"You need sleep, too." Dad and I could only afford a one-bedroom apartment; he had given me the bedroom and slept on the couch, a sleeper model. "That bed I'm in feels so big and empty ever since Troy left." Troy and I had always shared our bed, a king-size, and I still missed him after seven months. "Why don't you come in and sleep with me tonight?"

"Don't mind if I do." Dad admitted. "That couch isn't very comfortable. Three months on it and I still toss and turn."

"Then you sleep with me from now on. I can't sleep without someone to cuddle up next to."

"Okay, son." Dad said, getting up, kicking off his unlaced workboots and unbuttoning his shirt. "I'll find my pajamas and be right in."

"What do you need pajamas for, Dad? Troy and I always slept nude. I still do. And after all...."

Dad could read my hesitations as well as I could his. "After all, you want to do this some more."

"Yeah." I admitted and grinned up at him. "Any reason why we shouldn't?"

"None I can think of." Dad said, as his jeans came down and off. I saw that he didn't bother with underwear either. "Son, you just got yourself a new bunkmate." As nude as me, he spread his arms out in welcome.

"Great." I said and jumped into his arms.

Dad scooped me up, cradled me in his arms, and carried me into my room, like his baby, or like his lover.

THE END
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