Cat's In The Cradle

"I love you so much, Dave," I moaned between thrusts.

"I love you too, Dad," he replied, groaning in rhythm as I fucked him.

I normally have pretty good stamina, but that first night I didn't even last five minutes inside Dave before I felt the pressure building inside my dick. When my groans and thrusts started to intensify, Dave knew what was happening.

"Oooh shit, cum in my ass, Dad. I can't wait to feel your cum inside me, the same cum that made me, shooting out from the cock that made me, God I owe everything to you, Dad."

That was all it took to push me over the edge. I let go of his hips, instead grabbing his amazing ass and I gripped as hard as I could. I practically yelled his name as I thrust deep inside him, as far as I could fit, and the cum started firing into my son's ss. Load after load, I shot it all inside him, filling up his virgin ass with my hot and sticky cum. Once the intense orgasmic pleasure wore off, I let go of Dave's ass and asked if he was ready for me to withdraw from him.

"If it was up to me, you'd never leave, Dad...but yeah, I'm ready."

As I pulled my cock from his incredibly tight hole, he groaned just as loudly as he did when I first entered him. I dropped to my knees, face to face with his hole and I couldn't even see any sign of my cum. Once I'd caught my breath, I asked for Dave to turn around "so I can see the dick I've been dying to see since you were a teenager."

Dave was nothing if not obedient. He stood back up properly, then turned and finally, less than a foot from my face, I finally saw Dave's penis. That's when it occurred to me; he'd grown up just like me. My boy was just like me. Roughly 7 inches hard, circumcised, a bit thicker than mine, with neatly trimmed pubic hair. Fuck, it was a sight to behold, and I simply stared at it, dumbfounded. "Take a picture, Dad, it'll last longer," he joked.

"Don't fucking tempt me, boy," I replied. But, his joke did have the desired effect: I reached out and started touching his cock, amazed by just how hot it felt in my hand, not to mention how rock hard my son was after getting fucked in the ass by his own father. Again, he really was just like me. I could only restrain myself for about 20 seconds, at which point I stopped jerking him, put my hand at the base of his shaft, opened my mouth wide and welcomed his thick purple head into my mouth. My son's dick felt amazing, but it tasted even better. Salty-sweet, oozing with precum, and oh-so manly. I ran my tongue all over his head, eagerly licking up all the precum and swallowing it without hesitation. He moaned some words of encouragement.

Everything I did, I did either on instinct or because I knew I liked it. I covered my teeth with my lips, created a seal around his thick cock, put my tongue firmly against the underside of my son's shaft and moved my head up and down his cock, bobbing towards and away from his beautiful young body in a steady rhythm, holding his cock in place with one hand while the other grabbed and squeezed one of his tight ass cheeks. Occasionally, I looked up into his eyes while I was pleasuring him with my mouth, and the amount of love I felt towards him and from him is beyond me. He put one hand on my head, running his fingers through my hair affectionately. God, how I love that boy.

What I lacked that night in fucking stamina, I more than made up for in blowjob stamina. Not to sound arrogant or anything, but I think I did a great job of keeping a consistent rhythm while sucking my son's cock, both of us enjoying the sensation of a father on his knees, eagerly and happily sucking his only son's nice hard dick. He told me he loved me at least a hundred times.

After what felt like 20 minutes, Dave said something that wasn't "That feels fucking great" or "I love you, Dad." He told me he was going to cum soon. I picked up my rhythm, truly giving his cock all my energy and attention. I moved up and down that delicious piece of manhood as fast as I could, desperate to taste my son's cum. I didn't have to wait much longer, because the next word out of Dave's mouth was a loud, drawn-out "Fuuuuuuck".

I swear, I could feel Dave's cum as it worked its way up his shaft, noticeably making his cock even thicker. An instant later, I got my first taste of my son's cum. It was thick, salty, and incredibly rich. And holy fuck, it just kept coming. I stopped sucking his cock, instead kneeling in front of it with my mouth open like a girl in any number of porn clips. I jerked his cock for all it was worth, inviting all the cum he had to shoot into my mouth. And shoot it did. All told, I think I counted something like 4 mouthfuls of cum. I swallowed them all.

Once he was sure he'd finished, Dave suggested we move to the lounge before he collapsed. I agreed that it was a good idea; my knees were killing me. I sheepishly requested my son's help in standing up again, and of course he was a pure gentleman and helped me to my feet. Before then, I felt, I'd done such a good job hiding my age. Oh well, it didn't seem to diminish the love in Dave's eyes. We actually walked hand-in-hand to the couch, can you believe that? I felt like a giddy fucking teenager again.

We exchanged another few rounds of "I love you"s and made out on the lounge for a little bit. If Dave was concerned about tasting his own cum on my mouth, he certainly didn't show it. At one point, he reached over and grabbed my cock, optimistically pumping it for a few seconds before I broke our kiss to tell him that that probably wasn't going to happen again for a little while longer. He shrugged and pulled my face back towards his. I could feel my face was starting to get a rash from his prickly beard, but I couldn't care less. And if my wife said anything? Holy fuck, my wife!

"Shit, what time is it?" I abruptly broke another kiss to ask Dave in a panic.

He checked his watch. "Just after 10. Why?" I didn't need to tell him. "Oh fuck. Mum! What'll you tell her?"

I tried to think of any number of excuses - flat tire, I got too drunk to drive and there were no taxis, we stayed to watch the football - but none of them sounded plausible. Then it dawned on me. "Hell, why don't I just tell her the truth?"

"Are you fucking crazy? She'd kill us."

"Why? All I'd be doing is saying what happened: we talked a lot about my absence when you were a kid, and then we made up. Then I'd say something about how it was actually pretty emotional."

"You're a goddamn genius. Fuck, Dad, I loved tonight so much. I just wish..."

"Yeah?"

"I just wish that we were, y'know, able to do this more often now. I don't want it to be just a one-time thing. Or even something that we do when I have to come back to town for conferences."

"Oh God yes, me too." I kissed him deeply, which didn't exactly help the pain of knowing we'd have to separate for however long. "Actually, I wonder..."

"What, Dad?"

"Your mother's always talking about how we never get to see you or the grandkids. What if I suggest moving to Newcastle now that we've, shall we say, reunited?"

A couple of months later, I called Dave.

Pretty much the first thing he said when he picked up the phone was, "When you moving home, Dad?"

"This weekend." Naturally, I had to add to that. "We'll get together then, son. You know we'll have a good time then..."