Closer

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Michael is Daddy's little whore.
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"Get over here, Mikey, get your hot little butt over here--" He flings me down onto the bed and our lips collide.

My Trent, my Daddy, my lover.

We've been drinking tonight, which is illegal for me, but we don't care. We're in love. And he still has a bottle of whiskey in one sexy hand.

It hovers above my face. "Open your mouth," he commands, frenzied by alcohol. I obey. The liquor splashes into my mouth, burns my throat as I swallow, fueling my lust. My clothes are torn from my body, thrown aside. Daddy strips down too.

My Daddy is a man. He's made of muscle, made of power. Virile. Commanding. I'm a boy. Young, fragile, thin. You can count each of my ribs, and my shoulders and hips ejaculate awkwardly. I hope that someday I grow up to be as big and strong as my Daddy is. He says I will.

I lie on the bed, naked, my hard cock dripping and bobbing up for my Daddy's touch. Instead, he takes out a bag of blow, cracks it open and begins to spoon it out on the tip of a razor blade.

"Sit still, little boy blue," he says, beginning to form thin, delicate lines of coke on my body. Along a few of my ribs, balanced on my hipbones, along my sternum. It's a game of sitting very, very still. I make it a contest, to test myself: If I love my Daddy, (which I do) I won't be able to move a muscle.

"What a good boy."

His rolled-up bill begins to lift the drugs from my skin, and it tickles, but I don't dare squirm away. His lips curl into the sexy sneer that always forms when he's getting high, puckering to kiss my body between each hit. With the disappearance of each line into Daddy's chiseled nose, my cock throbs more persistently. My Daddy is getting high off of me.

I haven't moved a muscle.

He looks up into my eyes, wearing an expression of wild lust. The cocaine finished, he flips me over onto my stomach. There are so many kinky little things we want to do to each other. But right now, we have to fuck. It's a requirement.

And now, things are really beginning to heat up.

I feel him shove his hard member between my ass cheeks and begin to hump against me. The light in his eyes separating human from animal has gone out. He grunts and moans like a beast in heat.

He's got the bottle again, drizzling whiskey down my back in cold torrents. It eases the friction between us. Daddy spreads my ass cheeks with his big hands and the liquor cools me there. I purse my butthole at him, teasing. I'm cute. He knows he can't resist.

Like a ravenous animal, my Daddy tongues at my asshole. Lapping at the whiskey mixed with sweat, fucking me with his tongue. I shove my ass back onto his face and grind against him.

"You want Daddy?" he asks.

"Yes!" I'm powerless.

"You want Daddy's cock, right in here?"

"Yes!"

He pulls away. I whimper because I know what's coming. Looking over my shoulder, I see him positioning his leaking cockhead at my opening, feel him center himself and begin to push on the impossibly tight ring of muscle.

I relax, try to open up for him. And my Daddy's cockhead pops inside. He pushes straight in to the hilt, I feel his corona sawing past my prostate. My rectum bloats around his fat instrument. It hurts, but I don't care. Maybe I scream, maybe I don't, who knows. Who cares? My Daddy is inside me.

My cock jerks and jumps beneath me as it's pushed into the bed, spitting precum. I arch my back and moan, high-pitched. Daddy grips my hipbones and begins to fuck me. His thick cock slips down my passage, and I feel momentarily empty, until he rams back up into me and I am full of my Daddy again. Deliciously full of my Daddy.

We fall into a primal rhythm, in and out. Like animals, without precision. His huge testicles swing between our legs, slapping against mine. I'm bucking wildly on his steel cock, fucking myself blind on Daddy's rod. The noises he's making are those of a man lost in the throes of indescribable, animalistic pleasure. My heart swells with love, as my Daddy has found indescribable pleasure between my legs.

He pulls out in a frenzy, panting, pours liquor down my back, between our legs, into my yawning hole, then resumes his relentless fucking. The wet sounds of lovemaking fill my ringing ears, and the musky smell of sex mixes deliciously with the sharp, clear sting of spilled alcohol. My head spins.

I'm screaming like a virgin. Squealing out incoherent pleas for more, more, more; promises to be a good boy if Daddy just keeps fucking me. Harder, Daddy. Faster, Daddy. More. More. MORE.

I can't take it anymore. "C- ah, cumming!" I gasp. My back arches as ropes of my love for Daddy shoot out between my stomach and the sheets. My orgasm is short, but powerful. Daddy doesn't stop. He doesn't miss a beat. What a stud my father is.

But even he can't last forever. As my cock begins to soften, I feel his thrusts beginning to change. Daddy's approaching his orgasm. I tighten my muscles around him, cry his name out in a primal scream, beg for his sperm. And as my reward for being such a good little trick, he gives me what I want.

With a backbreaking thrust, Daddy's cock explodes with torrents of his rich, hot seed. His arms hold me perfectly still, and his teeth sink into my bony shoulder. Spurt after spurt of steaming jism shoots from his testicles, out of the very cock from which I sprang, nineteen years previous. Millions of little brothers swim frantically, seeking out what they will never find inside me. The sheer volume of his orgasm is massive; I regard it as a testament to how much he loves me.

My Daddy is a stallion, breeding his bucking colt.

When the shock of our orgasms subsides, his softening cock slithers out of my ass and he collapses on the bed beside me. One arm is thrown over my body, his fingers seek out a lock of hair to play with as he looks into my eyes.

Daddy's tired. He wants to fuck again, but he needs to rest first. I crawl over closer to him, and our lips meet as I roll him over onto his back. Our world tilts, swimming in alcohol.

A trail of kisses down Daddy's hairy chest and stomach leads me to his softening member, drooping into that studly, slightly-swollen, post-orgasmic state I love so much. I take his shaft in my hand; so big and thick and rubbery that it tries to flop away again, but I don't let it. It takes two hands. I squeeze, pulling my grip up and down. He's not getting hard again anytime soon, I have time to play. The head goes straight to my mouth, where I lick around his pisshole, occasionally sticking the tip of my tongue inside the tiny lips, flicking it in and out like a lizard tongue. I don't mean to arouse him; this is all for me. I work his foreskin down past his cockhead, marveling at all of this extra material he didn't let me keep, and dig out drying cum with my fingertip. I nibble gently at his 'skin, sucking it in between my teeth and caressing it with my tongue.

Sensing Daddy's gaze, I look up. Propped on an elbow and looking at his boy with a bemused, loving expression he asks, "Why do you always do that?"

I shrug, continue my little ritual of cock-worship.

Daddy sighs, lays back down. He loves me, but will never understand me.

"I am so drunk right now."

"I know you are, Daddy."

"And fucking high..."

"I know, Daddy. I love you."

He murmurs something that resembles, "I love you too, Michael."

I kiss his cockhead affectionately, then lay his penis down on his thigh and kiss my way down to his balls. I tease them with my tongue, playing with this excess skin too, sucking each perfect testicle into my mouth individually. I like to get one testicle and just let it rest on my tongue.

Pretty soon, I'm playing with his foreskin again. That's my favorite. Only now, I've waited too long, and Daddy's hard again.

"Come back over here so I can fuck your sweet ass."

"I wanna be on top."

"You can do whatever you want, I just need to cum."

He grabs me under the armpits and lifts me away from his hardening member. I straddle his hips, my neglected, mostly-soft cock dragging along his stomach. Daddy grasps it and starts to tug me back to life. Taking his cock in my hand again, I point it like a missile towards my butthole, smearing it with precum.

I don't stand on ceremony this time. I lower myself down all the way on the first stroke, ignoring the searing pain of entry, burying Daddy's cock to the hilt.

Ignore the pain. Fuck. Be a man. Fuck him.

So I ignore the pain. I fuck him. Hard, fast, sexy, I roll my hips back and forth along his cock, every once in a while hitting that perfect spot in my own ass, that glowing nut of prostate.

We scream. Spit flies from our lips, sweat flies from our bodies. With one hand on my hip and the other still squeezing my cock, Daddy takes control of the fuck, driving me up and down at his pace, pistoning into me with his iron prong. I lean down without breaking the stride and bite at his nipples, pull on them with my fingers. I take handfulls of his chest hair to cling to while he drills me, digging my nails into his pecs and raking them down.

Both hands occupied, Daddy commands, "Kiss me."

I kiss him.

This fuck lasts much longer. The alcohol has given us porn star stamina, and the pressure builds, it seems, ad infinitum. But like all amazing fucks, it has to come to an end. If fathers and sons could fuck each other till the trumpets of Judgment Day sound, we would, and nothing would ever get done in the world.

This last orgasm is simultaneous. Our eyes lock, bodies clench, and we cry out in harmony. Reflections of one another, spanning a generation. His angry cock jerks in my ass, lasering jet after jet of sperm-rich semen into my hungry cunt. It passes from his body to mine, like a wave, as my cock sends one, two, three, four, five strands of jism cascading down onto Daddy's heaving chest. For an instant, our souls intertwine, and father and son are one again.

We're slow in recovering from this one. We revel in the afterglow for a long time, breathing together, heartbeats matching.

"Daddy, I love you," I pant. A little boy, yearning for his father's recognition. It's unnecessary, but something I have to do. He pitches me off of him sideways and, giggling, I crash onto the bed.

"I love you too, little boy blue. But hey, Michael, look-" He points to his chest, "Look what you did."

Glowing, I complete the order before it's even issued, and lap up all my drying cum from his bulging pecs. Daddy's bossy, but I'm obsequious. It balances out.

Its time for us to sleep, now. Exhausted, I nestle into his chest, enveloped in his warmth. Daddy's arms snake around my thin form and hug me to him. We're touching in absolutely every way possible.

"Shit, boy, we're gonna have hangovers from hell tomorrow morning," he sighs in my ear. His breath is fluttery, I can hear the sleep in his words.

"You only get a hangover if you stop drinking..." I turn my head and whisper.

A quiet laugh rumbles in his chest, his breath tickles my ear. "Yeah, in your dreams, kid. I think we've had quite enough for one..."

His words evanesce into soft snores.

Unsatisfied, I draw this out. "I love you, Trent."

A monosyllabic moan.

I'll take it. I'm not picky.

Now we're done. There's a rightness to this. We sigh, drawing breath in unison, and slip into a much-needed slumber.

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4 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 6 years ago
Awesome

This is an amazing story. And this is exactly the kind of love I’ve always wanted from my father...

50580964555058096455about 9 years ago

wow drunk sex is always good and can make you cum quick or last a while until one is sore and the other is tired but is always the hottest

JevarahJevarahalmost 10 years ago
....

This'd be a lot better and their actions would be more sincere if they weren't inebriated.

AnonymousAnonymousover 10 years ago
Wow. :)

This isn't even the best story I have ever read on Literotica; it's the best story I have ever read IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. The way Daddy calls him "little boy blue", the perfectly real and natural way Michael says "I love you"...all of that was perfect, absolutely perfect! (Also, I downloaded this story so I can read it even without internet, haha.) Anyway, I can't stress enough how completely amazing this was. Great job!

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