A Father’s Responsibility

by Natty Soltesz

I’ve always felt that fathers have a particular responsibility toward raising their charges. My son Brian has grown into an intelligent, attractive young man. His mother had something to do with that, of course, but I believe there is a role in a boy’s life that only a male figure can fill. As a child I took Brian fishing and played catch with him in the backyard. When he was bullied, I taught him how to stand up for himself, and when he was struggling with math, we sat down every night at the kitchen table and studied until he got it right.

When Brian hit puberty we discussed what to do with the new feelings he was having. We talked openly and honestly about sex. It wasn’t easy for either of us, at first, but he needed answers and I was here for him.

It wasn’t until Brian’s senior year of high school, when his transition into adulthood really began, that things changed. He was trying to get into a good college, possibly Ivy League. He really had what it took. But his discipline began to backfire.

One night he confided in me.

“All my friends are out partying, blowing off steam. I don’t want to be doing that, exactly, but I get restless sometimes.”

The way he shifted in his seat made me start to understand.

“It must be hard for you to meet girls when you’re studying all the time,” I said. Brian let out his breath.

“It’s not hard to meet them, just that I can’t spend any time getting to know them. Establishing any sort of relationship, or even just trust, something that would lead to…” He trailed off.

“All sorts of experiences,” I offered, and we laughed together. I told him that sex was something as important to a young man’s development as getting into a good college. But even if he couldn’t pursue that now, he could certainly prioritize taking care of himself in the meantime.

“Masturbation is a useful tool and you shouldn’t feel hesitant to do it here in your home. I’m not sure if your mother understands, but I do. If you need private time in your room or in the bathroom, take it,” I said.

From then on he was more open about taking care of his needs. I could see that it was helping him, too. He was more relaxed. A few times I walked past his bedroom and heard him really getting into it. (He usually refrained when his mother was home, which I thought wise).

“Do you masturbate?” he asked me one evening.

“Sure,” I said. “A few times a week.”

“I used to only jack off once a week but now I do it every day, sometimes twice a day.”

“That’s great, Brian,” I said.

“It’s funny to think that sometimes you might be doing it while I’m doing it,” he said.

“That could very well be the case,” I said.

Then came the day that I walked in on him in the bathroom. Brian was in the shower and I could see him through the clear glass door; it was obvious that he’d been masturbating.

“Sorry!” he said immediately. “I forgot to lock the door.”

“My fault for walking in,” I said. I turned to walk out but took a moment to admire his handsome physique, the smattering of hair that had developed on his chest, stomach and thighs, as well as a thick bush over his impressively large, hard cock. His cock had the red, throbbing appearance of one that was just about to pop, and I knew how frustrating it could be to get interrupted when you’re in that state. “Sorry I startled you,” I added.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Were you going to brush your teeth?”

“Yes but I can wait.”

“No, go ahead,” Brian said. “I guess it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.” I smiled to show it was okay and went to the sink, closing the bathroom door behind me.

“No need to stop just because I’m here,” I said as I grabbed my toothbrush from the medicine cabinet. “It’s nothing I haven’t done myself.” Brian smiled.

“Are you sure? I was really close when you walked in.”

“Absolutely, don’t leave that business unfinished,” I said as I squeezed toothpaste onto my brush.

“Awesome,” Brian said.

As I brushed I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. It was interesting to see how he went about it. He firmly stroked his thick teenage cock in a rhythmic way, pausing occasionally to let his orgasm build. With his other hand he felt all over his soapy, smooth body. It was a technique I myself employed. Finally, he cupped his smooth balls in his palm and raised his head to the ceiling. I was placing my toothbrush back in the cabinet and drying off my hands when, with a delicious groan, Brian squirted out his load. His head dropped and he watched his cock as it pumped out thick ropes of cum that landed on the shower wall and floor. Shot after shot – I was impressed with the volume of his load. When he’d calmed down a little he looked at me and smiled sheepishly.

“Good job, son,” I said. “Make sure that all goes down the drain, okay?”

“Sure thing, Dad,” he said. I gave him a wink and headed back to my room.


After having sex with my wife that night, I couldn’t sleep. I remembered my own teenage years and how lustful I’d felt. I thought about Brian and how natural it had felt to be in the room while he masturbated; about how even a great jackoff session paled in comparison to the real thing. A plan began to form in my mind.

It was the start of the spring semester for Brian and he was already knee-deep in responsibilities – homework, extra-curricular commitments, college applications. I could see the stress on his face.

I waited until a weekend when my wife was out of town visiting her sister. On Friday I cooked a huge meal and when we sat down to eat I offered Brian a glass of wine.

“You sure?” he said. I assured him that a little alcohol was a great way to relax so long as he used it responsibly. He smiled as I filled his glass.

When we’d eaten and finished the bottle of wine I said that there was something I wanted to discuss with him. First, I asked if he’d been concerned at all by our encounter in the bathroom.

“Not at all,” he said, and added that it had felt natural. I said it had felt natural to me, too.

I prefaced my proposal by saying that it was unorthodox, and that if he did agree to it, it would have to be kept between the two of us. He leaned in, curious as to what was coming next. I took that as a good sign.

I told him that I might be able to assist him, sexually, if he thought it would benefit him.

“Well, like, what would we do?” he said. I explained that essentially I’d be taking care of his needs and that I’d be willing to do that both orally and anally.

“You’ve done that before?” he said. I told him I hadn’t, but I didn’t think it would be a problem. Frankly I was touched by his concern for me, but I stressed that this potential arrangement would solely be about his needs.

Brian took a deep breath and sat back in his chair.

“Don’t decide right away,” I said.

“I’m just trying to imagine how it would go down,” he said, and a smile spread across his face. I smiled back.

“You let me worry about that,” I said as I opened up another bottle of wine.

Fifteen minutes later my son was waiting in his bedroom while I prepared myself in the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and took a deep breath. As unsure as I was about the step I was preparing to take, I knew that it was the most responsible thing I could do to take care of him.

I observed my naked body. I’d managed to keep myself in good shape – my chest and arms were toned, my stomach tight and flat. My butt was firm from my daily bike rides to work. I put on my jockstrap and my bathrobe and walked down the hall to Brian’s room. I opened the door and found him on his bed. He’d followed my instructions and was nude, blindfolded, with his headphones in his ears. I’d explained that limiting his senses would allow him to fantasize and enjoy himself more fully.

I was surprised to see his cock was hard and pulsing against his stomach. Perhaps the anticipation of what was about to happen was a turn-on, which I took as a good sign. I let my robe fall to the floor. As I sunk one knee onto the bed he stirred, aware for the first time that I was present. I gently put my hand on his leg and ran it up toward his inner thigh. Brian’s cock twitched and throbbed. Clearly he was in need of some sexual attention.

Caressing his legs, I admired Brian’s defined stomach and the beautiful cock that lay against it. I was surprised to feel a flutter of excitement for what I was about to do – not that I was lustful for my son, but he was such a fine specimen of young manhood that it was impossible not feel both proud of how he’d developed, and excited that I was going to be the first one to take care of his needs.

Even still, the size of his cock was impressive – much larger than my own – and I had to wonder how I was going to fare taking it orally, let alone anally. I took it in my hand. It was heavy and hot. I stroked him, feeling it react as I squeezed the base, tweaked the head. Brian’s breath quickened, his hips arched to meet my hand.

I settled in between Brian’s legs, bringing my face close to my son’s cock and balls. I took in the smell of him which was clean, but musky and masculine – a smell that was familiar to me as my son’s, but deeper and sexier. I’d never given oral pleasure to a man, but I’d received it many times so I had a good idea of what to do. Even still, I’d reviewed some materials on the internet prior to that evening for pointers.

Extending my tongue, I ran it from the base of his cock all the way up the underside and to the tip. I paused to savor the taste – salty, fresh and masculine; young teenage flesh at its peak. There was a pearl of precum poised at the slit of his cock. Curious, I licked it off and tasted it. I’d tasted my own cum before, of course, but it had been many years. I found the taste of Brian’s precum made me horny.

Brian sighed as I ran my tongue back down his shaft. I focused on his smooth, loose balls, licking his sack first then taking one of his balls into my mouth. My tongue trailed further to where the silky skin underneath his balls domed and led the way to his anus. I was willing to rim him, but felt it best to keep things a bit more vanilla, at least for this initial encounter.

I trailed my lips and tongue along his smooth inner thighs and then across his flat stomach. I took Brian’s cock into my mouth. He moaned. I let my lips stretch around it as I swallowed it deeper.

My ass was spread out behind me. I’d worn the jockstrap specifically as a way to give Brian access to my orifices without my own genitals getting in the way, but something about that position, with my ass exposed and available, made me undeniably crave to have my son’s cock inside of me.

I was confused by this desire, at first. It had never been a part of my conception of the encounter that I would desire my son; that it would become a mutually pleasurable experience. There was a feeling of identity anxiety. I’d never considered myself anything less than straight. What did it mean that I could become aroused at the thought of getting penetrated by my son? It didn’t make me gay, necessarily. But a touch of bisexuality that I’d never before considered didn’t seem out of the question.

I tried to fight it off at first and ignore it. But as I sucked Brian’s cock and really dedicated myself to the act, my arousal only increased. I was sliding my mouth and lips up and down his thick teenage cock shaft, being careful to keep my teeth behind my lips, allowing my throat to stretch and take more of him on each pass. When I finally got his cock all the way down my throat, to where my lips were nestled in his pubes, I held it for a moment. Brian groaned and I felt my cock pulse. I was rock hard and leaking precum which was beginning to seep through the front of the jock.

I decided to give into it. It stood to reason that my own arousal would make for a better experience for Brian. I couldn’t deny that my ass felt horny and ready to take his cock. So as I slobbered on that big, beautiful dick I reached behind myself and felt my smooth, shaved hole. I pressed my fingers against it as I stretched my throat around Brian’s cock. It felt amazing, so I got a finger wet and brought it to my ass and pushed it inside. My cock really started dripping then.

I settled in between Brian’s strong legs. Clutching one of his thighs in each hand, I alternated quick rhythms with some long, slow sucking, and attention to his testicles. My body was pressed flat to the bed and I allowed myself the occasional grind of my hard-on against the mattress. I imagined what we would look like from above – a muscular older man, broad back splayed as he serviced his young, athletic son; firm, round ass framed by a jockstrap and ready to get penetrated.

I knew from the rhythm of his breathing and the intensity of his moans that Brian’s orgasm was building. I’d been clear with him that he was to indicate when he was close.

“I’m close, Dad,” he finally said. I took his cock out of my sloppy mouth and let it rest against my face. Brian groaned and shifted a bit, his slick-with-spit cock pulsing. I wasn’t trying to tease my son but I did want to give him the most satisfying orgasm I possibly could, and I knew that building it up a bit would provide that.

Also, maybe I was still a bit hesitant at my next step. As much as I wanted him inside of me, and though I did have some experience with anal pleasure (mainly in my college days when a girlfriend had enjoyed fingering my rectum while giving me oral sex), I’d never taken something as large as Brian’s cock inside of me. To prepare I had bought a dildo a few days before and had practiced on myself.

It was now or never. I grabbed the lube from under the bed where I’d stashed it before getting ready. I had condoms too, but I had no intention of using them, being quite sure of my STI status as well as my son’s. I’d discussed it with him thoroughly beforehand as well, how he shouldn’t expect to enjoy a wealth of bareback, raw sex in his lifetime, but that this was a rare occurrence in which he could enjoy the feeling of his bare cock going into another person. I’d told Brian that I intended to ride him until he came, and that he was welcome to cum right inside of me.

As I lubed up Brian’s cock I saw his face, still obscured by the blindfold, light up in anticipation. I knew that feeling of knowing your cock was about to do what it was designed to do. He was very hard and I was glad because it would lessen the challenge of taking him inside of me. I lubed up my anus, took a deep breath, and straddled my boy’s body, pointing his cock upward and positioning my hole above it. I focused on my breathing as I bore down on it. It stretched me, and I continued pushing downward until it made its initial penetration. It took my breath away but this was expected. I knew from using the dildo to take a moment and breathe.

I was surprised with the ease at which I took the rest of him. Before I knew it I was sitting fully on my son’s lap, the entirety of his thick cock inside of me. The look on Brian’s face was one of pure ecstasy, and I was, admittedly, having some of the same sensations. It was an overwhelming feeling of pride to see my son in the position that all men hope to find themselves, and to be the one to help bring him there. An urge to lean forward and kiss him took hold of me, but I pushed it out of my mind.

I felt Brian’s cock pulse inside of me. I squeezed back.

“Oh fuck,” Brian said. I knew that this was as intense for him as it was for me. I stayed like that, tightening my ass around his cock, feeling him pulse back. It was like we were communicating through our bodies. Brian said it again, “Fuck,” and there was something about that, an uncontrolled curse word, that stirred me. I was seeing my son as more than my son, as more than a young man in need. I saw him as a sexual being.

My cock felt so good as I began to ride him – raising my hole up along the length of him, then sliding back down until his smooth balls were against my backside. Brian’s moans became guttural, primal. I gave in to the feelings I was having and released my cock from the jock.

I felt so full of him, every fat inch of my son’s virgin cock filling my virgin ass. I was wonderfully stretched open and I felt like I wanted even more. I braced myself on my son’s smooth, hard torso as I got more into it, my cock bobbing like a buoy as I found a real rhythm, riding my son’s bareback cock as high up and down as I could to give him maximum pleasure. His chin was tipped back and pointed at the ceiling.

Brian’s arms rose up almost like he couldn’t control them, and he grabbed my hips. I’d initially wanted for him to remain passive and let me take control, but now, as my son’s hand wrapped around my harder-than-hard cock, as if he could sense my excitement and was drawn to it, I wondered if that had been a valuable restriction. I relaxed and enjoyed the feeling as he began to jack me off, his other hand holding tight to my hip as he thrust upward into me.

It was hard not to feel like we were making love, in a way. Certainly we were both getting off, and we were both aware of that. I used Brian’s muscular thighs to brace my whole body, raising it up and down so that his cock would be poised at the precipice of my asshole before I would plunge it all the way back in. He was going to make me cum, and just as I realized this Brian opened his mouth and said what I’d asked him to say.

“I’m gonna cum, Dad.” I’d wanted to know when to anticipate his orgasm in order to extract the most juice out of him and provide him with the utmost pleasure. But my own imminent orgasm complicated this. It was all careening deliciously out of control. I said, loudly, “Me too, Brian.”

“Fuck yeah, cum with me, Dad!” he said. I learned later that the music he’d put on had ceased at some point and he’d spent most of the encounter without it. In fact he’d enjoyed this aspect of it, and on subsequent encounters we ditched the headphones and the blindfold altogether.

I was riding his cock like a pony and Brian’s hand was stroking me fast and tight.

“Oh fuck Dad, I’m gonna do it, gonna cum in you. Fuck!” I felt Brian’s cock pulse and then warmth flooded my insides. At the same time my own orgasm crested and it was like no orgasm I’d had before. The utter abandon of cumming while getting fucked – it was a sensation to which I would soon become addicted, and which led to many more encounters with Brian where the boundaries I’d created, boundaries meant to keep the focus on his pleasure, were one by one ignored or eroded until it was clear that we were having sex with one another purely for the pleasure of it, and not out of some sense of altruism.

A huge jet of cum spurted out of my cock and landed on Brian’s chin and neck. He didn’t flinch – in fact, he smiled. He continued stroking me as the next jet landed on his hard chest, then another, then another, each spurt covering his rock-hard teenage body with slick cum until he was drenched in it.

As addled as I was in the moments after we’d cum together, I took the time to reflect upon the experience with him as we lay back on the bed, basking in the afterglow.

“Are you asking if it was good for me?” he said.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” I said.

“It was,” Brian said, and smiled at me. We looked into each other’s eyes. “Thanks.”

“No need to thank me,” I said. “It’s my job as a parent, as a father.”

“Well, thanks for being such a great dad,” he said, and it felt natural as our bodies came together, his hard sticky body pressing into mine. Our lips found one another and we engaged in a deep and satisfying kiss.

Sure, it’s difficult sometimes, raising a child. But in moments like those, it all seems worth it.