The Lake Ch. 02

Kyle woke, startled and confused, finding himself in the dark in what he assumed was the tent that had been previously set up earlier. I feel asleep. The grinding of crickets could be heard from outside, and the cool air surrounded him. He was underneath a blanket on top of a sleeping bag, and as he turned he saw his father close by inside his own.

How did I fall asleep?

Kyle remembered having beer, and realized the thrill and excitement of the interaction he had had before. His father rubbing his chest... Then Kyle's cock began to stiffen. That interaction. What WAS that? It was all confusing, and Kyle felt disappointed that he had fallen asleep at a possible prime opportunity for some...

Some what? Just stop dreaming about this. It's not what you think it is.

They always came to this lake. They always had the "father son" bonding... But not even in the way Kyle wanted. He would often study his father from a distance, watching every movement, every muscle, everything... His cock would swell and he would control himself, avoiding any ridiculously awkward situation that could link itself to rejection.

And probably more. Chill the fuck out Kyle.

As he thought this his father stirred a bit, letting out a deep sigh. Kyle's erection immediately subsided, but a strong urge came over his bladder. He needed to pee, but had been planning it for an opportunity to finally sneak a peek at his old man. Kyle would often pee next to his father, and subtly shoot an eye glance over to catch the quickest glimpse of his father's manhood. Kyle was uncircumcised just like his father, but could never catch a full glimpse of Dave's cock without feeling a twing in his own, which might alert his father and uncover the entire situation.

But isn't that what you want?

Kyle shook his head, slowly moved the blanket off himself, and exited the tent, slowly and gently zippering it behind him. This wasn't a prime opportunity, and he really felt the need to relieve himself. There was no waiting until morning. Kyle tracked through their campground, noticing five empty beer cans scattered about where the two had been sitting.

Kyle's heart started to skip with excitement. He knew he had only had one, which meant his father had the rest of them. He might be a little tipsy. This was a rarity in their house, as his grandfather had a drinking problem that cast a shadow over all drinking in their subsequent family. Kyle's mother had also been killed by a drunk driver, which left Dave somewhat hating any liquor. But every time since Kyle had turned 21, he had a beer or two in front of Dave which seemed to loosen his father up on the subject. So it was no surprise that there was beer on this particular trip.

But why'd he drink so many with out you? Could it...

Kyle tried to contain his excitement as he pulled back his uncut cock and relieved himself slightly on the outskirts of the campsite, trying hard not to think about his fathers larger one so he wouldn't have an erection. Once he finished, he zipped himself back up and moved back into the site. He spotted the cooler near where the two had been sitting, and opened it. He popped a beer, his hands clammy, and began chugging the can. Why are you so scared. You're just going back to sleep.

He chugged the can until it was empty and tossed it to the ground. The can rattled somewhat loudly, which startled Kyle. He didn't want to screw this up. He got up and began slowly pacing around the sitting area.

Just go back into the ten, get down to your underwear, and maybe you can... Well try to...

"Fuck it." Kyle lurched towards the tent. As he approached, he realized he was shivering. Was it the cold or the excitement? Would anything happen? Nothing ever did... Why would it now? The beer was frothing in Kyle's head, making it pound slightly, as he unzipped the tent. The zipper sounded amplified, and Kyle clenched his teeth. He caught the shadow of his old man in the same position.

Is he asleep?

Kyle moved into the tent and slowly zipped it back into its closed position. He moved toward his own bag, careful not to topple over, and began removing his shirt and pants slowly. His eyes were down, but would often dart over to his father, who was unresponsive, as usual. Kyle got down to his boxer briefs and checked again. Nothing. Defeated, Kyle flopped onto his sleeping bag and stared at the roof. He realized he was still shivering.

But I'm not even fucking cold.

Kyle was lost in thought when he heard a movement from his father. He turned, and Dave was looking back with tired eyes.

"Where'd you go?"

"Just went to take a piss."

His father gave a tired, yet deep chuckle. "Oh. You cold?"

It felt as though a stake speared directly through Kyle's body. He didn't know how to respond; he didn't even know if he WAS cold. But he focused his sight on his dad, and lied.

"Yeah, and I can't get the stupid zipper to work on the sleeping bag."

His father gave a tired smile that transformed into a yawn. Then, Kyle hear the words he never thought he'd actually ever hear:

"Well, just come here then."

Dave unzipped his sleeping bag with his eyes closed, offering it to his son. Kyle hesitated, his skin crawling in anticipation, and moved slowly into the bag, feigning a yawn. It was close proximity, and Kyle turned so his father was spooning him from the back. His pulse was firing rapidly, and he held his breath slightly in a mix of fright and exhilaration.

Kyle could smell beer on his father's deep breaths. Dave moved and Kyle felt the hair on his father's chest trace and tickle his back.

This is happening. This is happening. I can't believe this is happen-

"Did you drink outside?"

Oh.

"No. I just kicked a beer can by accident. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you-"

"Just wondering. I thought I smelled it on you."

Kyle laughed with a hint of nervousness. "I think... You smell you, dad."

His father grunted and moved closer. Kyle was paralyzed. What should he do. He tried to analyze his father's body with the contact on his own skin; he felt his chest but couldn't feel his hips or groin, so Kyle slowly wriggled deeper into the spoon session. There was another grunt from the tired man, and Kyle froze again. Then he felt that his father was not naked, and frowned. His father had his briefs on, as he always did, but Kyle decided to relish the moment nonetheless.

Kyle absorbed each breath his father took in his sleep. The expansion of his father's chest made contact with Kyle's back, tickling him with follicles and a masculine heat; then the contraction and the receding of the contact. Kyle would wait in anticipation for the next breath, as his father's were deep and long. His own cock pulsed with attraction and excitement.

You know this is wrong... But you want this... And you love this...

Kyle's own cock was safely (and sadly) tucked in his own boxer briefs, but hidden from view from Dave, which allowed Kyle to maintain his own erection. He could feel a swell of precum drip slightly out of his foreskin, and as he moved his own hands to adjust his erection, his father's wrapped around his body.

Unconsciously?

But as Kyle tried to adjust his erection, his father's thumb lightly petted his arm. The breaths coming from Dave were still deep and long, but Kyle felt this contact with every fiber of his being. Kyle then realized that he was no longer adjusting his erection in his boxer briefs, but entertaining it. He was slowly moving his moistened foreskin up and down his shaft in rhythm with his father's thumb.

This feels so good. This feels so fucking good.

Kyle moved his foreskin slowly so his arm would not disturb his old man that was now sticking to the back of him with an intimate, yet unnoticed, heat. Kyle couldn't believe this was happening. He wanted to turn around; he wanted to touch his father; to kiss him and he caressed his strong arms. He wanted to press himself and his younger cock on his father's older body... He wanted his father to take off his briefs and show him his fatherly manhood. He wanted his father stroking himself as he stroked his own... To watch his own man, study his body, entertain his lust, and-

His father rolled over abruptly, startling Kyle's fantasy. Kyle slowly turned to study Dave, who was fast asleep and unaware of anything happening.

Shit. I... Holy shit.

Kyle got up slowly but with purpose and turned. He studied the large, rugged body of his father one last time, admiring everything that he could, and zipped Dave back into his lone slumber. Then, Kyle moved back to his own sleeping back and slipped in, careful not to make a sound. His cock was still throbbing and wet with precum. Kyle thought, "well fuck it. I doubt he'll wake up and if he does, boys will be boys." Kyle pumped his uncut cock with passion, reliving every slight touch, twing, and contact. Relishing in something that he hoped he could have happen or develop again.

I want him. I want him so bad. I want all of him. Fuck.

Kyle silently exploded a geyser of cum that soaked his entire boxer briefs and part of his sleeping bag. He wanted to scream out, but contained the jubilation to inside himself. As his climax dissipated, he breathed out and sank more into the uncomfortable sleeping bag. He turned his head and glanced back at Dave.

This will happen again. I will make this happen again.