by Natty Soltesz

My wife and I bought a cake for my son Aaron the night he came out to us. It hadn’t been a huge surprise – he’d always been a sensitive boy. We were proud that he was confident enough to own his identity, so we celebrated.

But when he told me, at age sixteen and a half, that he wanted to have sex with me…well, there was no cake, and no celebration. I didn’t chastise him, though. He’d obviously struggled with revealing it to me.

“I know it’s inappropriate,” he said, looking down at the floor. “And I’m not going to act inappropriately. But I just thought you should know.”

“Thanks for telling me,” I said. What else could I say?

“It’s probably something I’ll get over,“ he said, “but if I’m ever acting weird around you, that’s why.”

I thanked him again and said: don’t tell your mother, she might not understand. See, I’ve always had a more enlightened attitude about sex than most. I’ve never identified as bisexual but I’ve had my fair share of encounters with the same sex. I think sex is more complicated and varied than people give it credit for.

For a while after his admission we just didn’t bring it up. But I noticed the way my son looked at me, and realized he’d been looking at me like that for quite a while. Aaron had been open with me about his attraction to older men: it was something we had in common, because I’m attracted to older women (his mother is ten years older than me). His head tended to turn whenever he encountered those tall, hairy and handsome older types, which was me to a “t”.

And if I was my son’s type, well, then I have to be honest and admit that it went both ways. I guess you could call Aaron a “twunk,” because his body takes after mine in its strong musculature, but he’s nearly hairless with the firmest, roundest bubble butt. I’ve always enjoyed fucking smooth, young guys: it just feels right, like opposites attract.

All of which is to say his feelings made a certain amount of sense. Then I found, after the surprise of it wore off, that the idea didn’t bother me so much. It was even kind of cute. One day I was working in the garden with my shirt off when he rolled up on his bike. He got tongue tied when I stood up and he saw my sweaty body. We just laughed about it. My son wanted to have sex with me. If that wasn’t indicative of the admiration he had for his father, what was?

Occasionally, when my wife wasn’t around, I would bring up the subject to him and he would say, yes: he was still attracted to me, but that he felt better since he’d admitted it. I wondered if I should get him into therapy. Then I wondered if I should get myself into therapy for not feeling like it was a huge deal.

But it never did seem like one. My boy was still holding it down in school, and I was pretty sure he was getting out and sowing his wild oats. We got him on PrEP and gave him plenty of condoms and lube.

It was the summer before his eighteenth birthday where I came to terms with my own attraction. I was lying in bed after my wife had gone to work and I found myself thinking of my son in his bed, down the hall from me. I was imagining what it would be like if we did have sex, which was something we’d never talked about: the particulars of his fantasies. I knew he leaned more bottom. I thought about his tight ass taking a big, fat cock and soon found myself with a raging hard-on. I thought: I’m hard thinking about having sex with my son. Why do I have to be ashamed of that?

Even still, I kept my feelings under wraps. The least I could do to mitigate this taboo situation was to wait until he was of legal age. Plus I thought he might just grow out of it.

But he didn’t, and that fall we had another talk about it while we were out at the home improvement store. It came up casually: I asked if he was seeing anybody. He said no, he hadn’t had sex in a couple of months. And that it was in times like these that he wished he and I were having sex because it would be so easy.

“Yeah,” I said, “But we’d have to do it under your mother’s nose.” I said it without realizing what I was implying, and Aaron looked right at me. I’m sure I flushed red, and he didn’t know how to respond, so we managed to drop the subject.

After that there was some tension between us, and I knew I needed to dispel it. So the next time his mom was out of town I let him have a glass of wine with me and told him the truth: he turned me on, too.

“I thought so,” he said, and now he was the one blushing. “But you’re not willing to…I mean, you don’t want to…”

I leaned back in my chair. “What I want to do it irrelevant at this point. At least until you turn eighteen,” I said, and almost stopped myself because I hadn’t thought it out in so many words: that yes, it would be okay, once he turned eighteen and he was officially an adult and able to make an informed decision. We’d been talking about it for over a year, now. Why not?

But it made my heart race just the same.

“So we can try it? Once I turn eighteen?” he said. I took a deep breath.

“I think so,” I said. “Yes.” He got the biggest smile on his face. “We’ll talk more about it later,” I said.

“Cool!” he said, and gave me a big hug. I think we both had erections, but I was careful to keep my crotch away from his.

His birthday was in December and I took the time to consider my actions and their consequences. My wife and I have an open relationship, but I didn’t think she’d understand this. Then there were my son’s feelings to consider, but I’d had plenty of fuck buddies over the years who I could get very intimate with and not get in to any messy emotional territory. We’d be living in the same house, of course, but my son was good with boundaries.

So, a week before his birthday, I surprised him with some plans.

“I rented a cabin up north,” I said. “Your mom knows – I mean, she knows we’re going to have a guy’s weekend, but I didn’t tell her anything else. There’s a lake, we can fish or hike if it’s nice out. Or just hang out.” I saw the excitement in my son’s eyes and I had to laugh: he was young and full of cum, and lust for me. It had been a long time since I’d had sex with someone so eager. This was going to be way too much fun.

His official birthday was on a Thursday; we had a celebratory dinner with his mother and a few of his friends, with gifts and cake. But I kept one gift hidden away in my closet until his mother was in the shower. Then I knocked on his bedroom door.

“Come in,” he said. He was laying back in his bed, playing with his new phone, in just a pair of sweat pants. And I know it’s inappropriate, but the thought came: What a hot piece of ass. He was all smooth muscle, and perfectly coiffed. I knew from the time he spent in the bathroom that he probably shaved and trimmed his crotch. I wondered if he shaved his asshole…

He grinned wickedly when I handed him the box. I told him to open it quickly.

I’ve always had a fetish for sexy underwear, and the vision I hadn’t been able to get out of my head was that of my son’s firm ass framed in a light blue jock strap. So I’d bought the sexiest one I could find, with a soft pouch up front to hold his cock and balls, and thin straps that would hug the curves of his rear.

When he lifted the tissue paper his eyes lit up.

“Wow, Dad,” he said. “It’s so hot.”

“Don’t try it on yet,” I said, listening for my wife down the hall. “Wait until this weekend.”

“Right,” Aaron said.

“Pack it away so your mom doesn’t find it,” I added, then heard the shower shut off. I leaned down toward him. “Happy birthday, Son. I love you,” I said.

“I love you too, Dad,” he said, and we went to kiss, just as normal as ever. Except this time, some magnetism held our lips together. I thought: why the fuck not?, and parted his lips with my tongue. I felt his body shudder and he opened his lips to let my tongue between them. I swirled my tongue with his for one hot minute, feeling the lust rise up between us before I thought better of it, and stood up.

Aaron had pitched a tent in his sweatpants. Mine was in the same state.

“Save that energy for the weekend,” I said, and he sighed. I’m sure he was jacking off before I even made it to my bed, and I fucked my wife twice that night.

On Friday I took a half day at work and prepped for the trip. I packed a headlamp, some candles: your standard camping supplies. But when my wife wasn’t looking I added a few things, like lube, condoms, and this one pair of underwear that rides low on my crotch and makes my cock look really good. I figured my son would like that.

Aaron came home from school as eager as I’d ever seen him to spend time with his dad. We said goodbye to his mother – did I feel a little guilty, then, as he kissed her on the cheek and told her he’d miss her? She was sad not to be going with us, I knew. But we really were planning on bonding – in an unconventional manner, sure, but bonding just the same. And was it cheating if I was doing it with the child we’d made together?

We loaded up the car and hit the road. It was a quiet ride for most of the trip – I think the anticipation was making us both nervous. But once we got off the highway and started on the winding roads that went up the mountain, I could feel our excitement building.

To get to the cabin we had to drive down this long dirt road through thick pine trees. There wasn’t another house around for a good three miles, and the cabin was catalog-perfect: huge windows in front, chimney just waiting to billow smoke into the winter sky. We looked at it, then looked at each other, and shook our heads. I mean, it was the perfect cabin to fuck in – the kind of place you would book for a honeymoon.

We got ourselves settled in. My son took a bedroom on the lower floor and I took one on the upper floor, just like we would’ve done if we’d been there with the whole family. He got a fire going while I unpacked the groceries. The fireplace was a huge stone thing and had a bearskin rug in front of it. which, when I’d booked the place, had definitely crossed my mind as being a good spot to screw.

I cooked us dinner while my son read a book in front of the fire. It was nice to just relax away from home, but the tension of what we were going to do was still there, humming under the surface. We talked about normal stuff while we ate: school, work, current events. We played some cards and had a pretty good time trying to beat each other. By that time, I’d begun to think that maybe nothing would happen at all: maybe it would just be a normal father/son bonding trip. Which would have been fine.

He was yawning and I was too and when he said “I’m gonna go take a shower,” I said “That sounds like a great idea.”

Each floor had its own bathroom, and when I heard Aaron turn on the shower I went upstairs and started a shower for myself. It was hot and felt amazing, so good that I just let it run and lost track of time a little, relishing the feel of hot water on my skin. I’d left the bathroom door open and my bedroom door cracked, and I was toweling off when I heard my son in the hall.

“Hey,” he said. I wrapped the towel around my waist and went into the bedroom. He’d poked his head around the door frame and I could only see the top half of him: his young, bare chest. My heart started beating really quickly.

“Come in,” I said. He hesitated.

“I just wanted to show you how it looked,” he said. He opened the door then, and stepped inside my bedroom. He was wearing the blue jockstrap. There was my son, in all his mostly-nude glory: a perfect specimen on masculine youth, all smooth, defined muscle. The jockstrap dipped low on his pelvis and cradled his cock and balls. He was checking me out, too, in my towel.

“How’s the back look?” I said. He turned around. There was my son’s beautiful ass, framed in blue, smooth and hard as marble. I knew I couldn’t resist this. Like I’d ever had a notion to. I walked over to him and rested my hand on his ass, it was warm from the shower. I squeezed it and he exhaled.

My cock was hard under the towel. I went to take it off but thought: let him have the pleasure. So I put my hands on his shoulders and turned him around. He glanced up at me, nervously: we were having trouble looking one another in the eyes, I noticed. I took his hands and placed them on my chest. He gazed at my body as I moved his hands over my tits, my nipples which hardened as he grazed them with his fingertips. I guided his hands down to my stomach and to the towel. He undid it and let it fall to the floor. He gazed at my cock, rising up from its bush of black pubic hair. I don’t think he’d ever seen me hard before. I’ve got a pretty huge cock and I’m sure it was eyeful for him, thick and uncut, standing out from my body like a log.

He looked up and for one intense moment we gazed into each other’s eyes. My cock was hard as could be, standing up from my body and pulsing. The pouch of his jock as completely stretched out and there was a wet spot where his cock head was straining against the fabric. I reached for it and let my finger trail underneath the root of his cock, where the pouch ended and went to smooth, bare skin. His hole was there, just beyond that fabric triangle, but I wasn’t in any hurry. I wanted to make this last.

I pulled him to me by his genitals. He grunted and fell toward me. I let go of his cock and grasped him by the sides. He was so tight was the thing, the tightness of youth; his sides tapered with tightly wound muscles, almost like they were woven together. I moved my hands up his strong back and pulled him into me, bringing his face to mine for a kiss.

My cock rode up into the crevice between his abs as we made out – gently at first, with tongues flirting out between our lips. I wrapped my big, hairy arms around him and pulled him tight to me. The difference in our sizes was pronounced – I could almost envelop him. We kissed with wide open mouths, our tongues darting together. He was a good kisser, making out with a rhythm that effortlessly meshed with mine.

I grabbed his ass, using those twin globes of firm teenage flesh to pull him closer to me. I dipped my fingertips into the crevice between them, flirting with the edge of his asshole but not touching it, yet. Then I ran my hands up his back and grasped the back of his head, feeling the nub of his close-cropped hair against his warm scalp. I took hold of his strong chin and pulled his face apart from mine to look at him. He had a look of total lust on his face. I ran my fingers over the slope of his nose, his full lips. I’d made this person, and now I was going to fuck him.

I put my hands under his arms, lifted him and tossed him backwards onto the bed. He looked a little shocked but was still smiling. I sauntered over to him, knowing I must look like something out of his fantasies: his handsome, muscular father approaching him, hard cock leading the way, like an animal in heat. Which is what I was.

I grabbed his leg and flipped him over onto his stomach. He whimpered in surprise. I lifted his hips to perch his ass up in the air, then pressed down on his lower back to spread his ass out fully. After months of fantasizing about it, it did not disappoint. His cheeks were parted like a halved melon and his tight asshole was as pink as a bunny’s nose. He clearly shaved it but he was so naturally smooth that I don’t think he needed to do much. His hole tightened and released as I gazed at it.

“Fuck, Aaron,” I said. I ran my fingers along the smooth curves of his ass, teasing him until I finally touched his warm asshole. He moaned and arched his back even more. I got on the bed and made myself comfortable between my boy’s legs, then I started licking him – just his thighs and ass cheeks at first, but finally I planted my tongue in his hole. He was really moaning now. His asshole tasted clean and musky, a familiar taste in some ways because it was him, just a more concentrated version. I flicked my tongue across it then speared it deep inside to make him moan louder. I felt it tighten, then relax. The more he relaxed the deeper I slid my tongue inside.

My own cock was still incredibly hard and I ground it against the bed as I ate out my son. I reached under him to feel the pouch of his jock which was now thoroughly soaked with precum; he was as hard and throbbing as I was.

I wanted to see him totally naked, so I stood up and flipped him over again to strip off his jock. His cock was totally shaved and had dripped so much precum that it had ran down to his balls, which were just as smooth as the rest of him. I wrapped my hand around the root of his cock and balls and yanked on it. You could tell he wanted to get roughed up a little.

“You want your dad’s cock?” I said. I held out my cock to him and shook it.

“Yeah, Dad,” he said.

“Come get it,” I said. He sat up and came to the edge of the bed. He stared at my cock like it was precious, which I guess it was: his genesis. He smelled it like it was something to be savored, sniffing my hairy balls and shaft and running his fingers through my pubes. He buried his face in my pubes and inhaled.

“Fuck I’ve wanted this cock for so long,” he said.

“I like it when you talk like that,” I said.

“I want you inside me, Dad,” he said as he looked up at me, my cock head poised at his lips. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

“Say you love me,” I said.

“I love you, Dad,” he said.

“Show me how much,” I said. He smiled and then began to kiss me – first my stomach, then lower, kissing each of my nuts then placing light kisses all the way up my shaft. He kissed the tip of my cock and licked his lips.

This is hot as fuck, I thought. He’d had practice servicing a cock, clearly, and he was being artful about it – taking his time, making my anticipate his barely-legal lips around my prong. Finally he slipped his lips around my cock head and suckled on it, looking up at me and moaning all the while, his ass spread out behind him.

“Jesus fuck, kid,” I said. I took his chin in my hand. “You better believe I’m gonna put it inside you.”

“Please, Daddy,” he said. We made out, lips and tongues going all over each other’s faces and necks, biting and sucking. Then I pushed his head back down to my cock. He took my nuts in his hand as he wrapped his pretty lips around my cock, looking me in the eyes and sliding my cock down his throat. When he got to my nuts he rested there, letting his throat adjust to the thickness. I played with my nipples while he worked on my dick, then I switched positions, getting on the bed and lying back against the headboard. I put my arm behind my head and motioned for him to come sit in my lap, which he did, aligning our cocks with one another.

“I’m so glad I get to do this with you,” he said, leaning down to kiss me. We ground our cocks and bodies together as we made out. Then Aaron moved my cock underneath him and rested it in his ass crack. He braced himself against my chest as he gyrated on me, letting my fat cock ride up and down his smooth crack.  He lifted his ass and when he lowered back down I could feel the head of my cock catch against his hole. His eyes were right on mine as he bore down. I could feel it start to go inside.

“Fuck,” I said, pulling my hips away. “Damn, kid. You’re really ready for it.”

“Fuck yeah I am,” he said in a bratty way.

“I brought condoms,” I said. “And lube.”

“Lube sounds good but why use a condom? You’re my dad.” I let out my breath.

“C’mon, Aaron. You should always use a condom for sex; you know that,” I said.

“I’m on PrEP,” Aaron said, reaching back and placing my cock head against his hole again. “C’mon, Dad. I want to feel you raw. I want you to cum in me, too,” he said, and as he spoke he bore down again on my cock. I felt his hole opening up, and then the head popped inside. “Fuuuck,” Aaron said. The feel of his tight hole around the tip of my prick, combined with the look in his eyes as he felt his dad’s cock enter him for the first time was too much. My resistance disappeared.

“Just this once,” I said.

“Awesome,” Aaron said. He wet his hand with spit and reached back to smear it on the shaft of my cock – quickly, like he didn’t want to give me time to change my mind. Then, slowly, he sat down on it. My eyes rolled back in my head as inch after inch of my cock slid into my boy’s tight hole for the first time. Finally he was sitting fully in my lap, just like had when he was a boy. Except this time my cock was completely inside him, enveloped by his heavenly hole. His cock got harder as his ass adjusted to my big dick: I felt his hole loosen, but then his hard-on pulsated and stood up which made his hole tighten. That made my cock pulsate and I felt some precum squeeze out of it and into him. It made him gasp to feel my cock swell inside him, so I did it again.

“You like your dad’s big dick in you?” I said, reaching up to feel his chest and stomach. I wrapped my hands around his dick and jacked him while I flexed my cock inside him.

“Yeah, Dad,” he said. “God, I’ve wanted this so long.”

“Now you’re gonna get it,” I said. I sat up and wrapped my arm around his back, lifting him and laying him back on the bed. I managed to get on top of him while keeping my cock firmly planted inside his ass, then I held his ankles and pushed his legs back as far as I could. I looked down at the root of my thick cock, stretching out his hairless boy hole. I slowly pulled my cock out of him. Aaron whimpered; his hole clung to my shaft as I slid out. When just the head of my dick was still inside him I held it there for a second, then slowly put it back in. It was smooth as butter, so I guess the spit had done the trick. When I bottomed out in him he moaned and grabbed onto my back.

“Your dick feels so good,” he said.

“You feel amazing,” I said.

“Fuck me,” Aaron said. “Fuck me all night, Dad.”

“Maybe I will,” I said, getting into the fantasy. I thrust out again, and back in. “Maybe I’ll keep my cock inside you all weekend.”

“Yeah, Dad!” Aaron said. I growled a little and leaned down to suck and bite at his neck as I fucked his tight, teenage hole. It was a total thrill to have him in this way; I felt like the luckiest dad in the world, with a fresh, faggot son thrilled to be barebacked and defiled by his hairy, muscular father.

I fucked him on his back for a while then flipped him over and did him from behind, which a sight: the way my thick cock disappeared in between his hairless ass cheeks. I loved taking my cock all the way out of him and looking at his pink, gaping hole before stuffing myself back inside again. He stayed hard the entire time.

I put him on his back again and started fucking him really hard, just using him like I would any common bitch. I ran my hands over his slick chest and hard nipples; I grasped his hard cock and shaved balls in my hand, jacked him as I pumped him full of daddy dick. He started moaning deeply and I knew we were reaching the point of no return.

“Fuck me, Dad,” he kept saying.

“I’m gonna fucking cum in you,” I said. He looked at me with wild eyes. I jacked his cock relentlessly as I pounded into him. “Gonna cum for me, son? Cum with your dad’s big cock railing your ass?” He opened his mouth and attempted to speak but his words were garbled and incoherent. I felt my load start to tip over the edge and just as I did I realized his hole was clenching around my cock, and then his cock started sputtering cum – a shot that hit him mid-stomach, then another that flew up over his head. “Holy fuck, kid! Shoot that load. Fuck, I’m cumming in you!” I kept pounding him as my load build, then I held my cock deep and unloaded inside my boy. “Fuck Aaron, goddamn!” I said as I seeded my son.

He was covered in his own jizz. I smeared it into his body then reached down to kiss him, both of us breathing heavily into one another’s mouths as we came down from our orgasms. Then we lay there next to one another, basking in the satisfaction of good, overdue sex. Aaron had closed his eyes and was drifting off, a sheen of cum on his body and even more of his dad’s dripping out of his well-used hole.

Some guilt came up – that of lying to my wife, but also of thinking it was wrong to have fucked my son. It had been consensual but it was still a bit of a mindfuck, so I took a shower to clear my head.

I was soaping up my body when my mind wandered to the image of my boy’s ass in that jockstrap and how my cock had looked slicing into him. I got hard again.

But when I came out of the bathroom he wasn’t there. I headed downstairs and found him in front of the fire, which he’d just stoked. He was lying on his stomach on the bearskin run, his perfect body and pert ass lit up golden by the shifting flames. I got down on the floor with him and lay in between his legs, then I went right for his ass – burying my face in it and licking deep into his stretched-out hole. My load from earlier came streaming out and I ate it out of him, the tastiest creampie I’d ever made.

I shifted upward and rested my body stop his, shimmying my hard cock in between his ass cheeks. I pulled his head around to mine and kissed him, sharing my load with him. It didn’t take much for my cock to slide back inside him, just where it wanted to be. We fucked in front of the fire for a good hour and a half, stopping to rest and add wood to the flames whenever it got low. Aaron came twice while I fucked him. His old man wasn’t quite so spunky, but when I finally did cum I pulled out and splurted it all over his ass cheeks, then I licked it up and we ate it together, making out all the while.

We passed out for a bit in front of the fire and when I woke up the weak morning light was filtering through into the cabin. I made some coffee and Aaron joined me on the sofa across from the big picture window, where we sipped from our mugs, our feet curling together, and watched the snow come down over the ice-covered lake and mountain ridge beyond.

“Do you think it’ll mess with your head, having had sex with me?” I said. He thought for a moment.

“Maybe,” he said. “It might be weird around Mom and stuff. Like, hiding it and everything. And I wish I could tell my friends…it just sucks that it has to be a secret,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“But other than that, I don’t think so. I mean, it feels the way things are supposed to be with us. I’ve been attracted to you since I was twelve. I mean, I still want a boyfriend. I want to fall in love with somebody. But in the meantime, if I get to have hot sex with my father, why not?”

My heart swelled a little, hearing him say that. Aaron: he’d always been such a thoughtful and sweet boy. I felt closer to him now that we’d had sex, like some barrier between us had been lifted. I put my hand on his thigh and we smiled at one another.

We fucked all day. We never left the cabin. I fucked my son in every room. Finally that evening, after I’d pumped my fourth load into my son, I crashed in my bed.

I woke to the smell of baking and came downstairs: Aaron was in the kitchen wearing an apron and nothing else, the ties of it hanging over his bare bubble butt.

“Look what I made,” he said, motioning to the cake on the counter that he was in the midst of icing. He hadn’t written any words on it, but we both knew what it meant. We ate a slice of it, naked, at the counter, and it was just about the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted.