Kneeling at the Altar

This was told to me by someone I met online. He said it all was true. Of course, I have no way of verifying that. If you are repelled by gay sex or incest stories between adults, then please move on. In that case, there's nothing for you here.

When I was a teenager, my parents divorced. I would spend two or three weeks each summer with my father in a small city about an hour away. We kept to this routine until I was 19, despite becoming a legal adult. I wasn't always sure he liked me but I guess he wanted to keep some contact nevertheless.

I was taking some classes at a community college nearby, still living with my mom and sister and working part-time at a restaurant. I still was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life and who I was. That self exploration included some same-sex experiences with some bullies and with a friend or two. I'll try and write more about those later.

We had gone to a food festival in mid-July. This was in the South, so, of course, it was hotter than hell out. We had a few beers to cool off. Dad took a shower and then came into the living room. He was wearing one of those short terry cloth robes - light blue. (I can picture it in my mind to this day). Dad just came out and said 'hi' or something, but I was watching TV in the recliner.

He laid down on the couch for a nap, and I don't even think I probably acknowledged him much. After a while he started to snore and I remember looking over (probably irritated at the noise because I was watching TV) and realized the robe was short enough that I could see his balls.

Huge balls were like a symbol of potency to me, and still are to this day. I just love big balls. So, I kept peeking over, looking, feeling as if I'm seeing something I should not and also feeling a bit naughty for seeing his balls at all. However, I also had been sucking cock for more than a year by then, and it was turning me on. I couldn't seem to help but look. I soon realized I could see a bit of his cock, getting slightly hard as he slept. I wanted to see it, so I went over, trying to be quiet.

I knelt as if bowing at the altar of this cock. I needed to kneel and worship it. My new god rewarded me with a glimpse of its head. Dad was uncut and over eight inches, simply a magnificent cock. After some time, he rolled on his back, snoring loudly. I knew he was next to impossible to wake up and a pretty deep sleeper, so maybe that put the thought in my head. He would never know if maybe I just touched it. I remember wondering if my hand would even get around it, so I worked up the nerve to touch it. With a single finger, I went for it. He did not stir, so soon, I tried lightly touching it. His cock responded and got harder, then gently I held it. It really was still just simple curiosity and cock worship until that moment. When things really shifted was the moment I saw a drop of precum on the head.

I LOVE precum. I eat my own, and when sucking cock, I love the taste as I suck. I wondered how his would taste, I did make a decision to just lick it off. Like with a friend months before, once my mouth was on it I guess I was on auto pilot and just started to suck like mad. I'm not really even sure of how long I was sucking. It seemed like it was quick, but it may have been a while. Anyway, my next memory was me sucking his cock and holding his balls.

I felt them tighten up, so I knew he was close, and I just at the same moment almost felt his hips rise to my mouth and then his hand on the back of my head. I lost it at that moment. I was so turned on that I came in my shorts and almost at the same time felt that huge, first spurt of cum in my mouth. I kept sucking, him stroking my head gently. I swallowed. and later the thought that I had tasted the cum that created me was HIGHLY erotic.

So for background, my dad was very outgoing and friendly but almost cold towards me. Maybe it was lingering resentment because of the divorce. Maybe it was that I was skinny and probably a bit effeminate (raised by mom and sister). I was not the big jock son, and I never felt like he was proud of me. I even doubted his love for me. It was almost like I was a burden at times, sorry to say. Anyway, at that moment I felt his approval and satisfaction, even if it was for something very kinky. Everything was silent for a moment after.

He just said, "Wow."

I said, "I'm sorry."

He told me it was OK, then asked, "What got into you to do that?"

I just apologized again.

I was afraid he might be mad, but he kept his hand on my shoulder and just said, "It's OK. I understand." After an hour or two, he asked to talk to me.

He basically asked if I often had the urge to suck cock. I said I did and said I was sorry again. He told me that it's very normal, and that he had two brothers and they got curious too. Dad then said that if i had these urges that it might be safer for me to share that with him, instead of "going out to look for guys to suck, and maybe get my ass beat, or worse."

I guess at that moment we came to an agreement. From that night forward, I slept in his bed instead of the couch, and we created a new closeness that was never there before. I knew he was proud of me. I'm not sure why the tension was there before, but if it took sucking his cock to get to the relationship (sexual and day to day) that we had from then on until he passed away, then I would not trade it for anything.

I didn't have a car that summer and sometimes he would unexpectedly drop by the house on weekday mornings to give me a ride to the community college. Often, as soon as we were a block or more away, he would unzip, pull out his cock and tell me to "Take care of Daddy." He was very verbal and kept up a stream of words that were hot: "Yeah, suck the dick that made you, son. ... Honor your father's cock. ... Worship that dick." I wish I could remember more. Dad also would moan and said, "God!" and "Oh, yeah!" a lot, too.

With eagerness, I would take the foreskin and head of his cock in my mouth and start sucking as he drove. He would be close to cumming by the time we got close to the school. Typically, by that point he would pull the car into an alley and a minute or two later he would shooting jizz down my gullet. Sometimes, if there was time, I would nurse and lick on it until it finished leaking, letting it grow soft and flop out of my mouth.

When I stay over, if I awakened first, then I would wake him up with a long, slow blowjob. Often he was silent during these, even after he was conscious again. I'll never forget how he petted my head. Before he would come, he would start to speak some. At these times, he was the most affectionate. He would say, "Daddy loves you," and "Good boy, good boy, make daddy feel good."

I miss those times, but I cherish the memories.