Dad embodies the pinnacle of masculinity, dark, rugged and unrefined yet perfectly proportioned.
Our secret we keep titillates us both more than we ever thought.
We can’t control ourselves, we won’t control ourselves.
As we journey to our usual motel haunt, his casual touch sets me erect and my pulse racing.
“Got your jock on, son?” he asks.
“Yes, sir.” I breathe heavy.
“That a boy! Ready to fuck, just how Daddy likes.”
He reaches out and squeezes on my thigh sending electric shocks coursing through my veins, making my pecker grow harder, foreshadowing the afternoon ahead.
“All horned up for your old man?” he says looking between my legs.
I nod up and down.
He licks the tip of his thick index finger before he flicks my bulging jeans.
“We’ll take care of that..” he says as he bites his bottom lip.
At the motel, thanks to his acquaintance with the manager, Dad always has secure complimentary lodgings on the condition that we maintain spotlessness.
“Go on, go in there, get the key from Willy, so you can get your pussy fucked.”
I hop out and return swiftly with a key card and we head up to our fuck palace for the next few hours.
In the confines of our room, I acquiesce to Dad, spreading my legs wide apart.
“Want some Daddy?” I tease holding my ankles.
“You know I do.” he drops his briefs on the floor around his feet and climbs onto the bed.
His colossal frame above me works up a lather of perspiration as we fuck all afternoon before unleashing a torrent of his thick, Dad milk straight into my guts.
#GayCest