I Want My Son Pierre

This is a story of a 19 year old that discovers his dad's fantasies of him in a diary. If you object to gay sex or incest, leave now. Let me know what you think. Emails are welcome.

*****

PIERRE'S POV

"Son, I am a 45 year old straight man. I have been married to your mother for 23 years. She and I are very happy, but we have not had sex in a long time. The reason is that I have had the hots for you, Pierre, my 19-year-old son, since you were 14. When you hit puberty, it was as if you suddenly came into focus for me. I loved you while you were growing up, and took good care of you. But when I started to *smell* you, that you were no longer a simple child, something changed in me...

I WANTED you in a way I had never wanted anyone before. And I still want you. I want to touch you and hold you in a way that is not right for me to want... Oh God, Pierre, I wish..."

I closed the diary, but kept my finger in the page. My heart was beating in my chest. This was a dream come true. You see, my name is Pierre, and I am in love with my father. In my hand is the diary that I accidentally discovered in his study when I was looking for something else. I would not read it, except that it accidentally fell out of the bookcase and landed with a page open and I saw my name, and couldn't stop myself.

I swallowed and opened the plain brown book again.

"I wish I could tell you how much I need to make love to you. I wish I could tell you how seeing you come out of the bathroom with your hair wet, and just a towel around your waist makes my dick leak. I wish I could stop you and push you against the wall with my one hand and gently unknot the white towel from around your waist and let it fall to the ground and see you beautiful uncut 19-year old dick hanging between your beautiful thighs above your sperm-filled nuts. I wish I could take your handsome 19-year-old face between my thumb and forefinger and pull you gently closer and kiss your gorgeous mouth, smell your breath. My son's breath. Oh fuck, Pierre..."

I couldn't believe it. There on the page, below my name, was a stain. It could only be... I leaned down to the page and smelled it. It was still quite recent, because I could definitely detect the alkaline smell of cum. My dad's cum, on a page describing what he would like to do to me... I took another deep sniff. It was as if the smell went directly to my cock. I knew I was going to cum there and then. I pulled out my 19 year old cock and gasped as I shot my load onto the page, directly below my dad's deposit. I groaned as spurt upon spurt of thick white spooge squirted out of the pulsating shiny tip of my big dick onto the page where my dad had done the same thing.

As I squirted I imagined how turned on he must have been. I imagined his hairy dad cock, his huge nuts pulled up in the wrinkly bag, spitting out the slimy chunky load onto the page where he wrote my name. I imagined him groaning my name with every squirt, until there was nothing more to come, and I imagined his heart beating like a hammer in his chest as he shakily exhaled, still saying my name over and over again:

"Pierre, Pierre..."

Fuck, that was hot. My own heart beat like a hammer in my chest. I knew that I couldn't close the pages like that because they would stick together and he would know that I had read his diary. He would only be back later so I left it on his desk to dry and came back just before I expected him home, to close it and replace it. I couldn't believe this. How was I going to go back to just being normal? Every time I was in the same room as him I was going to have an epic cock-stand and if I smelled his dad smell, I was going to struggle not to squirt in my jock. Jesus, how was I going to stop myself from seducing him outright?

DAD'S POV

"Dear diary, *sad smile* God, I just can't deal with this anymore. I go to work, I do my job, I kiss my wife when I get home, I watch TV and take a shower and go to bed. I go through the motions but I'm dead inside. The only thing that keeps me alive is seeing my son, Pierre.

"Jesus, son, you are what keeps me sane. Seeing you in the morning before I leave for work holds me until I get home at night. When I do, I first look out for you. Across from me at the dinner table, the sight of you is life itself. You have no idea that you are what gives meaning to my life. When I look at you, your mom, bless her heart, disappears. In my mind I slip my shoe off my foot and reach over to you with my bare foot and put my foot on yours. You take a deep breath and your mom asks if everything is all right because you suddenly seem to be... somewhere else. I nod slightly in the direction of the bedrooms upstairs and make an excuse to your mom. I know she's got a whole lot of stuff she needs to finish here. I go into your bedroom and close the door. I don't know if you will get the idea and follow me.

"Baby. A moment later I hear your light tread come up the stairs. Pierre. Oh God, how much I need you, how much I love you. Please love me too. Then you're in the room.

"Dad? What was that about? What are you doing in my room?"

"I come here sometimes when you're not here to... be close to you." I look down because I'm ashamed.

"Dad you know we can talk anytime you want to. I love spending time with you."

You have a question in you eyes.

"I'm not sure you would feel that way if you knew..."

"Knew what dad? You know I look up to you. There is nothing you could do to make me love you less. We've always been close and nothing could change that."

There is so much love and doubt in you eyes.

"Son I have been in love with you since you were 14. I come into your room and look at your pictures of you and your friends on your computer because I'm jealous of them and I wish I could spend the time with you that they do."

Comprehension begins to dawn in your eyes. I see the beginning of an understanding take root and tears start to form. Oh God, I knew it. The next words out of your mouth will be words of hate and betrayal. I'm going to lose my boy because I'm a sick, perverted old man with an incestuous love for my beautiful 19-year-old son.

"Oh dada!" I have not heard you call me that since you were eight. Suddenly I know everything's going to be ok.

You walk over to me where I sit on your bed. You sit yourself down next to me and look shyly at me from under you floppy fringe. Your green eyes are moist and full of love.

"So what do you want to do about it?" you whisper. You put your hand on my leg just below where my shorts end. Then you slip it in the bottom of my short and find my pouch. Your forefinger at first just strokes the hard lump you find there and then slides in under the edge of my underpants to find the tip of my cock and then rubs the wet piss hole you find there. I do the same to you. I feel that the front of your jock is soaked with pre-cum. I lean over and put my mouth to yours. You part your beautiful lips and let me in. We both breathe in deeply through our noses and begin to make out tenderly. I know you share my love for you.

"But I don't know that's how it will work out, so instead I write down my fantasies here in this safe place and silently dream of a world in which my son can be my lover."

PIERRE'S POV

I am at same time so turned on and saddened by what I read here, in my dad's secret confessions. Since reading the first entry and jacking off over the page and adding my hot cum to his, I have not been able to get it out of my mind. I'm finding moments to be with him, to sit next to him on the couch with my knee touching his, something I stopped doing when I discovered that I had feelings, bad feelings, for my dad, shortly after I discovered that my cock could do more than piss.

I noticed him looking at me with a question in his eyes, but just smiling and looking a bit sad. He doesn't know I know and he doesn't think there could be a world in which I could feel the way he does. But I don't have the courage to tell him. It would change everything.

What if he loves me until he can have me, but then grows to hate me when he realizes I'm going to change that I'm always going to be in love with him and that I silently love-hate my mother because she has access to him whenever she wants it? I rub my cock through my pants because what he has written here is so hot, so close to my own fantasies of him, and at the same time I feel tears dripping down my face onto the pages of his love confessions for me because I ache inside to feel his weight on me, to feel his tongue in my mouth, to feel his cock in my...yes, in my ass. I said it. That's what I want. I want to be my dad's lover in the most intimate way possible. I want him to fuck me with love in his eyes as my ankles frame his handsome face.

I want his breath to get quicker and quicker as he gets closer and closer and when he hits my love button just before he ejaculates his daddy-juice into my bum, I squirt my 19 year old spunk with such force that it hits his mouth. As he cums up my bum he leans down and we kiss with my jizz all over our faces. We taste my ball-juice in our mouths...

Oh fuck, oh fuck... and I cum in my jock without even touching myself, as I hold his diary in my hand and cry over a love that can never be. I can feel myself squirt in my pants and I know that it was the biggest load ever. My asshole contracts around the place where I wish his dad-cock could be, in a room that smells of him, where he fantasizes about me, and dreams of the same things as I do. I shudder as the last spasm of my hands-free climax leaves my body feeling shaky. Then I close his diary after kissing the page where my tears fell and put it back exactly as I found it, because I don't want him to know that I violated his privacy, because I'm a dirty little pervert daddy-lover.

CHAPTER 2

PIERRE

"Son, I saw you washing your truck today, in what you thought was the privacy of our backyard. You know, when I bought you that vehicle last year, I did it thinking of all the wonderful times you would have in it. A car is a tool that a young man can use to his best advantage, especially one as sexy as you. I was so jealous of all your friends and girlfriends that would get to share that most masculine of

accessories with you.

"You were quite unaware that I was spying on you. I was watching you from the first floor window, and you were dressed in just those short little denim offcuts that you're so fond of wearing because you're aware that you look so fucking hot in them. The pant legs barely cover your meaty as cheeks at the back, and as you move around your fuck-mobile they slide down to reveal the top of your crack at the back. You constantly have to adjust yourself in the front because you turn yourself on so much.

"As you get into washing your car you are a one-man strip show. At first you're wearing your white wife-beater that hugs your boy-tits closely that I could see your nipple stand even from here I was hiding behind the curtains. Every now and then you would swipe your hand up your sexy young abs slowly and then tweak your nips because you're so into being young. The hosepipe in your hand is like a leaking cock as you lovingly drool the water all over the parts that you had just soaped.

Eventually you get soaked from a spray that connects with the car too harshly and you laugh out loud like a kid. You drop the nozzle and the fucking thing lashes like a demented snake or a cock that is shooting uncontrollably, and get drenched even more. You try to shield your beautiful face with your muscular arms, exposing your hairy boy-pits to me and the world, to salivate over.

Finally you manage to trap the mad pipe under your foot, and you have a moment to take your shirt off. You do it so slowly, starting at the bottom, and gradually exposing your belly button with that light trail of fur to me and the world. At that point I realize I am hard and leaking in my Saturday morning sweats. I put my hand in and free my rock hard daddy cock from it's captivity, so I can concentrate on what you are doing.

"You then slide your hand in the front of your pants, almost like you just want to reassure yourself that your gorgeous young man cock is still there. You scratch your pubes, obviously itchy down there because of the hot Saturday morning sun on your body. You pull the whole shirt up until only your head is covered, exposing your hard, muscled abs to me and to anybody else that is watching. You pause like that some more.

I look at your treasure trail, wishing that I could lick the sweat that gathered in your belly button. Then you lean back on the car hood to steady yourself and pull the rest of the shirt over your head. You shake your sexy hair in the sunlight like a naught puppy and the water and sweat catches the sunlight as it scatters from your hair.

"In the meantime I am rubbing my dad cock, the foreskin making slick fapping noises from all the pre-cum that I am leaking, watching my sexy Pierre wash his fuck-mobile. Once again, you slide you hand inside your shorts, and this time, because you are facing me, I can see that you definitely have a boner because you had to sort of pull your hips back as you slide the hard meat around and upward so it would be more comfortable. I can swear that I see the tip sticking out the top but it was just a bit too far to be sure, so it could just be your old

man's imagination.

"By this time I am rubbing myself quite vigorously, picturing myself undoing that top button of your shorts, exposing your pubes, wet with sweat. But then you shock me by undoing that button yourself, and I can see that it is definitely your dick peeking out the top of your shorts. You are still leaning more or less back on your truck's hood and you reach down into your shorts and pull your large, throbbing teenage cock out and with your other hand push your shorts down enough so that they are low enough to reach in and pull your balls out.

"Jesus, son, you have such a sexy, juicy body and cock. By this time I am pumping my cock as if there is no tomorrow! But the show isn't over yet. You turn around and start humping your trucks gleaming, red fender, while sliding your shorts down over your as cheeks. Your shorts are now stretched and cupping your juicy ass upwards as you slide your hand over the melon-shaped buns while you still hump your truck as if it is a juicy cunt.

But then I see you slide the index finger of your right hand between the cheeks while you pull the left cheek away with your left hand, exposing what I can only describe as the perfect hairy asshole, to me and the world.

"You reach around to your mouth and slobber a whole lot of spit onto the four fingers of your right hand, and then reach around to your back door again and start in earnest, working your hole. At first just your index finger, which disappears first only to the first knuckle. You push your butt out and now I have a perfect view of your pink boy-cunt. But you want more and you are pawing at your hole like a teen possessed.

Now two and then three fingers disappear and you are grinding your cock on the hood of your car. You are humping your hand backwards with your hungry hole and your cock forwards onto your truck and you have a delicious rhythm going. Forgotten is the Saturday morning task of washing your truck.

Now the only thought on your mind is getting your rocks off. I see you reach onto the bonnet and grab the soap, squirt some onto the car to provide lube, and then the humping continues in earnest, getting faster and faster. I hear you begin to groan and snort as you go faster and faster and I know you must be close. You frantically work your hand deeper into your ass while trying not to miss a beat rubbing your throbbing boner against your smooth, gleaming red truck.

"Then I know you're cumming because you turn around and fist your 8 inch boy cock, facing me directly and looking right at the spot where I'm hiding behind the curtains, doing the same thing. Spurt after spurt of boy-juice arches out of your proud 19-year-old fuck-stick as you thrust your hips into your soap-covered fist again and again, supporting yourself on the red fender with the other hand. Rope after rope squirts out of the gleaming tip of your throbbing boy-boner and you literally bend your knees and hump into your hand to get the best effect.

"I can't stand it anymore and I pull away the curtain to reveal myself standing doing the same thing and just then I cum and squirt rope after rope of my dad-cum against the window. It runs down the glass, the thick chunky globs being a testament to my love for you and my incredible attraction to you. You smile and slowly massage your cock through the last stages of your ebbing orgasm.

"But I know this awesome fantasy can never be, it's just wrong and I'm just a sad, perverted 45 year old man that lusts after my unobtainable, beautiful son. I wish this wasn't just a fantasy son. I wish..."

Little do you know, dad. Little do you know how I wish this fantasy, which had me cumming to my pants while I read it, was true. I decide that I have to take the chance and think of some way to let you know how much I want you.

CHAPTER 3

DAD

1 April 2014

Pierre has been acting strange lately. He was never too shy around me before, wearing the bare minimum around the house and hardly ever, as far as I could tell, wearing underwear. It drives me nuts to see the outline of his cock hanging down the inside of his jeans, or the enticing swell and swing of it inside his shorts as he walked.

But to get back to the matter at hand. He knows I don't object to him walking around like that when his mom wasn't there, but now he was turning into a downright nudist. His bathroom is down the hall from his room and usually he would at least put on a towel as a formality, when he went for a shower, but recently that didn't happen anymore.

He just waltzed down the passage past my room with not a stitch of clothing on, his towel draped casually over his shoulder, his soft cock swinging loosely from side to side above his big low hangers. He's also started adjusting himself at random times, while he smiles crookedly at me and with his hands in his pants, and holding my eye with his.

When we were watching TV last night he had his hand in his shorts and was rubbing himself openly and when he saw I was looking at him, smiles apologetically and says: "Gotta get myself a girlfriend *or something*" and shrugged his shoulders. I wasn't sure what the *or something* referred to, but I could sure think of some suggestions.

I think he may be onto me. Later last night he was popping a beer can into the trash, and when I walked into the kitchen, "dropped" it on the floor. He then bent over to "pick it up", sticking his succulent buns out to me, and then stretching his knees while he slowly lifted the lid of the garbage can, and looking around at me, saying: "That sure feels good!"

Well, that sure looked good as well. It was all I could do to stop myself from ripping the thin material of his running shorts from his buns and eating his smooth teenage asshole then and there.

That reminds me of an occasion last week, when he called me into the shower because he had forgotten to bring a towel in with him. He made small talk with me while he soaped himself front and back, like any guy would, but paying special attention to washing under his hood.

His cock was chubbing up a bit and he just shrugged and said, "It always does that when I clean it. Boys will be boys, I guess...?" Then he turned around and *dropped the soap* with an "oops" and bent down to pick it up, exposing his beautiful pink smooth asshole to me. He stayed down there and washed first his feet, then up his legs and then lastly carefully washing his asshole. "Wow, that's sensitive," he hissed, and winked at me.