Lapdance
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Lapdance For Dad free porn video
My name is Ryan. This story embarrasses me to some extent, but you decide whether that is warranted or not.
This happened when I was much younger – I was 19. I had a pretty good body and was making me money working as a stripper and dancer in a bar on Jones street in San Francisco. I was having a pretty good time of it. I personally got turned on when businessmen used to come in in their suits, and I'd get a chance to lap dance for them at their request. The management liked me to do that because they said they liked my enthusiasm.
I really always liked the daddy type. I called them dads for short, as in Dads I'd Like to Fuck. And, though I didn't admit it, I was hot for my own dad, who lived in a far-away place, the Washington DC area.
I liked it when the businessmen get lewd and leered and made catcalls at me. It made me feel attractive, even though I got away with tickling their privates with my ass, as for part of the lap-dance, I got to grind my ass down on their laps, particularly their crotches. Sometimes I could feel their boners against my firm ass or perineum,that sensitive area between my balls and my hole. That turned me on as much as it did the suit-and-tie contingent.
One day before work I was talking to my real dad on the phone. He said he was coming to S. F. for a working visit. He said he was going to be with a number of his colleagues, and might not be able to visit, but he wanted me to know he would at least be in town. Dad knew I was gay, but he didn't know what kind of work I did. I had told him I was working in a clothing store.
I was a little nervous about him coming to town. I hadn’t had a visit from anyone in my “old life” since I had worked in the bar. I didn’t feel ashamed, but I didn’t want my parents or my friends back home to be scandalized. So I tried to find a night during my dad’s visit where I could meet him for dinner or something G-rated like that.
Well, I soon put Dad’s business trip in the back of my mind. I kept on dancing and getting great tips. Men seemed to enjoy what I was doing, and even my peers complimented me. I was not a built-up muscle man, but I carried what I had well. I was working out at the gym three or four times a week, and it suited me well.
I was afraid to admit it but I wanted to try out my dad's friends. I really had a hankering for men in suits. I also wanted to show off in front of my father, and shake my stuff at him to see how he responded. I figured (correctly as it turned out) that if he discovered me – his son – working in this kind of establishment, he probably wouldn't advertise it to his cronies (or coworkers).
So if I was right, I could do my thing right in front of this crowd of dads. including my real dad, and he wouldn't let on that it was his son shaking it up on the table tops. Just then, I told Ron that I was ready to dance, and that I wanted a chance to do it in front of my dad's crowd at the downstairs lounge.
I was nervous, but also horny enough that I wanted to show off my stuff for this crowd. Again, whatever they were doing in a gay establishment, I didn't know, but I intended to make the most of it.
The music was cranked up. Not too loud, just enough to make the atmosphere lively. I strode out on the runway downstairs as Tad introduced me over the PA system. He of course used my stage name, "Dirty Dan". I could see various men alone and in small groups looking at me. I also saw my dad and his five co-workers a little further down the lounge. They looked a little tipsy, like this wasn't their first stop this night. Well, it was after midnight.
I shimmied and shook my goodies for the crowd. I went on for about ten minutes to the eager voice over of Tad, announcing that I could do lap-dances or private dances for the enjoyment of the patrons. I leered over at the bunch of suits that included my father and his cronies. I stayed in front and shook as I danced, so that my package shook in front of me and was barely contained in my jock strap.
I saw my dad's expression as he recognized me, but then he smiled with the other men as they for some reason put their hands on his shoulders and sat him down in a chair. The rest of them were still standing. Seeing that, and the half-drunk expressions on their faces, including Dad's, made me feel licentious and horny. I was being invited to dance on my father's lap!
So I stepped of the platform and maneuvered myself on to the plush chair my father had been settled into. I danced seductively as Dad gave no sign of recognition. He was just playing along with his work pals. I undulated as I lowered myself onto his lap – trying not to do it too fast. I lowered myself gradually onto his crotch. which I noticed had a bulge in it clearly visible through the pants he was wearing.
His cronies were laughing boisterously and calling out encouragement to me to "turn on" their chosen victim – my father! I was hoping to do just that. Through the false veil of anonymity, although my dad and I both understood who we were, the tacit game of not openly recognizing each other took hold.
As I finally ground down onto my dad's crotch, I felt what I sometimes felt with others patrons. My father had an erection, and I could feel it on my perineum and on my butt cheeks! This had an immediate effect on me. And, although it wasn't supposed to happen, my boner bounced out of my jock strap and I was showing hard right at my dad. His co-workers were hooting and shouting "encouragement" to my dad. They shouted, "hoo-wee, Clark, just look at the young man, he's hard for you! Take him for a ride!"
One of them leaned forward, stuck his hand down to dad's crotch and yanked down his zipper, loosened his belt. I was watching carefully, not missing a beat of my shimmying dance routine, as Dad’s hard-on tented up his white undershorts and stuck obscenely into the air. I ground my bottom quarters directly onto this turgid dad-meat and made the motion of stroking dad's cock with my ass and perineum.
Dad blushed a deep red as I did this. I guess he was relieved that I hadn’t acknowledged our relationship as father and son, but he couldn’t have expressed it. As I danced myself back up, his friends finished undoing Dad’s belt, and yanked down his Fruit-of-the-Looms, exposing his hard 7-inch erection. Dad’s boner flew into the air, and I must have drooled as I looked at my father with lust. Then the music stopped. Vigorous applause ripped the smoky air (back then it was always smoky). I bowed to the whole audience, most of which was attentively watching this little scene.
I should mention that such explicit dancing and out-and-out genital contact was technically i*****l, but the city authorities at that time were trying their best to get the “Gay” vote, and they openly told the proprietors in a letter their thanks for running a popular entertainment establishment, and for some reason that was keeping us from HIV/AIDS! The rest of this story is probably not altogether true, but this little tidbit was fact...check the newspapers around 1987,8,9,’90.
One of my dad’s coworkers, a handsome man with short-cropped dark hair and blue eyes, walked up to me and motioned to me with his finger. I jumped off the platform and leaned up to see what he wanted. The man whispered into my ear, "are you able to join us for a little party later?" I said that I had to wait until after two. He said they would wait for me for that long. It was already 1:45 AM.
I asked him what he wanted me to do at this after-hours party. He said, “oh, we want you to just make our friend happy. He looks really taken with your body. Hee-hee!”
I cautiously agreed.
Then I recognized this man as Mr. Hobson. I had met him at a company beach party picnic when I was a teenager. I was attracted to him, but I let it slide at that. Little did I realize that he was interested in naked men, and probably was the force who brought this “straight” crowd into the bar.
As it happened, it was past last call, and my own coworkers were starting to close the bar. After a few minutes the remaining patrons filed out, but at my request, my dad’s crowd lingered on. My supervisor, Andy, told me he was locking the door. He nodded to the crowd of suits including my dad’s crowd, and whispered, “you can take them back downstairs.”
So, after a few minutes, I led the men back downstairs, sat them around a table, and made conversation, or tried to. One of them, a man with blondish hair said, let's see you get Mr. ------- all worked up again. So, I stripped off my shoes, and sat right down on the table facing my father, who was silent, but grinning. The men encouraged me, “grab him where it counts,” and “he needs a blow job,” and similar things.
They leered at me, and I felt my cock stiffening again. This time I lowered my jock strap and stepped out of it, fully naked except for my socks. Steeling my nerve, I reached down and grabbed my dad’s crotch. My hard dick swung near his face. I felt his dick, now getting boned, and whispered to one of the men to get him ready, as before, by lowering his trousers and undershorts.
This they did readily, and soon the gang stood around while my father sat there with his pants and underwear around his ankles, while his dick sprung proudly into the air. As the men hooted at me, I grabbed Dad’s hard-on and pressed it against my own. I rubbed our dicks together, which made me feel even nastier than before. The men hooted still more encouragement, having, I would have to guess, no idea at all that I was the son of their chosen victim.
To their delight and amusement, I went ahead and put my mouth around Dad's hard-on, and began to energetically give him a blow-job. I couldn’t believe how good he tasted! I used my best technique, figuring he hadn’t had a blow-job in quite a while. I knew how good a good blow-job would feel.
As I looked up, I saw Dad smile, or rather grin, that the old grin I recognized from a way back. I continued my work on his manhood, using my tongue on the most sensitive part of Dad’s (or anyone’s) dick. It’s right under where the glans peaks up into an upside-down “V”. I paid special attention to this area, which I knew would turn my dad on.
I was totally turned on by this point, and I lasciviously grabbed Dad's dick, while also looking over at Mr. Hobson and the others of my dad's office buddies. To say "they were looking on with interest," would minimize the mood of the arena. They were practically drooling, openly jerking off. And Mr. Hobson was the only one who actually knew that this "DILF" I was having such a good time with was my own Dad. And he was laughing and shouting encouragement.
So I returned to my job, giving my dad the best blow-job of his life. I didn't hurt to be watched, not by these five "suits."
I used my slippery tongue to lubricate my father's cock. Then I licked his balls while I rubbed his dick with my fist. I sucked on his balls and looked into his eyes. He looked like he was halfway to paradise, but didn't want to know the details.
I raised my head and went down on my dad's cock-head once again, using my tongue to tickle his sensitive parts, which I seem to have guessed correctly were the same as MY sensitive parts. All of a sudden Dad began to shoot in my mouth,. The first couple of shots went down my throat. Then I took his dick out of my mouth, and dad began to squirt all over the place: in my hair, on his chest hairs, which tickled me at the time as much as they usually did.
This happened when I was much younger – I was 19. I had a pretty good body and was making me money working as a stripper and dancer in a bar on Jones street in San Francisco. I was having a pretty good time of it. I personally got turned on when businessmen used to come in in their suits, and I'd get a chance to lap dance for them at their request. The management liked me to do that because they said they liked my enthusiasm.
I really always liked the daddy type. I called them dads for short, as in Dads I'd Like to Fuck. And, though I didn't admit it, I was hot for my own dad, who lived in a far-away place, the Washington DC area.
I liked it when the businessmen get lewd and leered and made catcalls at me. It made me feel attractive, even though I got away with tickling their privates with my ass, as for part of the lap-dance, I got to grind my ass down on their laps, particularly their crotches. Sometimes I could feel their boners against my firm ass or perineum,that sensitive area between my balls and my hole. That turned me on as much as it did the suit-and-tie contingent.
One day before work I was talking to my real dad on the phone. He said he was coming to S. F. for a working visit. He said he was going to be with a number of his colleagues, and might not be able to visit, but he wanted me to know he would at least be in town. Dad knew I was gay, but he didn't know what kind of work I did. I had told him I was working in a clothing store.
I was a little nervous about him coming to town. I hadn’t had a visit from anyone in my “old life” since I had worked in the bar. I didn’t feel ashamed, but I didn’t want my parents or my friends back home to be scandalized. So I tried to find a night during my dad’s visit where I could meet him for dinner or something G-rated like that.
Well, I soon put Dad’s business trip in the back of my mind. I kept on dancing and getting great tips. Men seemed to enjoy what I was doing, and even my peers complimented me. I was not a built-up muscle man, but I carried what I had well. I was working out at the gym three or four times a week, and it suited me well.
I was afraid to admit it but I wanted to try out my dad's friends. I really had a hankering for men in suits. I also wanted to show off in front of my father, and shake my stuff at him to see how he responded. I figured (correctly as it turned out) that if he discovered me – his son – working in this kind of establishment, he probably wouldn't advertise it to his cronies (or coworkers).
So if I was right, I could do my thing right in front of this crowd of dads. including my real dad, and he wouldn't let on that it was his son shaking it up on the table tops. Just then, I told Ron that I was ready to dance, and that I wanted a chance to do it in front of my dad's crowd at the downstairs lounge.
I was nervous, but also horny enough that I wanted to show off my stuff for this crowd. Again, whatever they were doing in a gay establishment, I didn't know, but I intended to make the most of it.
The music was cranked up. Not too loud, just enough to make the atmosphere lively. I strode out on the runway downstairs as Tad introduced me over the PA system. He of course used my stage name, "Dirty Dan". I could see various men alone and in small groups looking at me. I also saw my dad and his five co-workers a little further down the lounge. They looked a little tipsy, like this wasn't their first stop this night. Well, it was after midnight.
I shimmied and shook my goodies for the crowd. I went on for about ten minutes to the eager voice over of Tad, announcing that I could do lap-dances or private dances for the enjoyment of the patrons. I leered over at the bunch of suits that included my father and his cronies. I stayed in front and shook as I danced, so that my package shook in front of me and was barely contained in my jock strap.
I saw my dad's expression as he recognized me, but then he smiled with the other men as they for some reason put their hands on his shoulders and sat him down in a chair. The rest of them were still standing. Seeing that, and the half-drunk expressions on their faces, including Dad's, made me feel licentious and horny. I was being invited to dance on my father's lap!
So I stepped of the platform and maneuvered myself on to the plush chair my father had been settled into. I danced seductively as Dad gave no sign of recognition. He was just playing along with his work pals. I undulated as I lowered myself onto his lap – trying not to do it too fast. I lowered myself gradually onto his crotch. which I noticed had a bulge in it clearly visible through the pants he was wearing.
His cronies were laughing boisterously and calling out encouragement to me to "turn on" their chosen victim – my father! I was hoping to do just that. Through the false veil of anonymity, although my dad and I both understood who we were, the tacit game of not openly recognizing each other took hold.
As I finally ground down onto my dad's crotch, I felt what I sometimes felt with others patrons. My father had an erection, and I could feel it on my perineum and on my butt cheeks! This had an immediate effect on me. And, although it wasn't supposed to happen, my boner bounced out of my jock strap and I was showing hard right at my dad. His co-workers were hooting and shouting "encouragement" to my dad. They shouted, "hoo-wee, Clark, just look at the young man, he's hard for you! Take him for a ride!"
One of them leaned forward, stuck his hand down to dad's crotch and yanked down his zipper, loosened his belt. I was watching carefully, not missing a beat of my shimmying dance routine, as Dad’s hard-on tented up his white undershorts and stuck obscenely into the air. I ground my bottom quarters directly onto this turgid dad-meat and made the motion of stroking dad's cock with my ass and perineum.
Dad blushed a deep red as I did this. I guess he was relieved that I hadn’t acknowledged our relationship as father and son, but he couldn’t have expressed it. As I danced myself back up, his friends finished undoing Dad’s belt, and yanked down his Fruit-of-the-Looms, exposing his hard 7-inch erection. Dad’s boner flew into the air, and I must have drooled as I looked at my father with lust. Then the music stopped. Vigorous applause ripped the smoky air (back then it was always smoky). I bowed to the whole audience, most of which was attentively watching this little scene.
I should mention that such explicit dancing and out-and-out genital contact was technically i*****l, but the city authorities at that time were trying their best to get the “Gay” vote, and they openly told the proprietors in a letter their thanks for running a popular entertainment establishment, and for some reason that was keeping us from HIV/AIDS! The rest of this story is probably not altogether true, but this little tidbit was fact...check the newspapers around 1987,8,9,’90.
One of my dad’s coworkers, a handsome man with short-cropped dark hair and blue eyes, walked up to me and motioned to me with his finger. I jumped off the platform and leaned up to see what he wanted. The man whispered into my ear, "are you able to join us for a little party later?" I said that I had to wait until after two. He said they would wait for me for that long. It was already 1:45 AM.
I asked him what he wanted me to do at this after-hours party. He said, “oh, we want you to just make our friend happy. He looks really taken with your body. Hee-hee!”
I cautiously agreed.
Then I recognized this man as Mr. Hobson. I had met him at a company beach party picnic when I was a teenager. I was attracted to him, but I let it slide at that. Little did I realize that he was interested in naked men, and probably was the force who brought this “straight” crowd into the bar.
As it happened, it was past last call, and my own coworkers were starting to close the bar. After a few minutes the remaining patrons filed out, but at my request, my dad’s crowd lingered on. My supervisor, Andy, told me he was locking the door. He nodded to the crowd of suits including my dad’s crowd, and whispered, “you can take them back downstairs.”
So, after a few minutes, I led the men back downstairs, sat them around a table, and made conversation, or tried to. One of them, a man with blondish hair said, let's see you get Mr. ------- all worked up again. So, I stripped off my shoes, and sat right down on the table facing my father, who was silent, but grinning. The men encouraged me, “grab him where it counts,” and “he needs a blow job,” and similar things.
They leered at me, and I felt my cock stiffening again. This time I lowered my jock strap and stepped out of it, fully naked except for my socks. Steeling my nerve, I reached down and grabbed my dad’s crotch. My hard dick swung near his face. I felt his dick, now getting boned, and whispered to one of the men to get him ready, as before, by lowering his trousers and undershorts.
This they did readily, and soon the gang stood around while my father sat there with his pants and underwear around his ankles, while his dick sprung proudly into the air. As the men hooted at me, I grabbed Dad’s hard-on and pressed it against my own. I rubbed our dicks together, which made me feel even nastier than before. The men hooted still more encouragement, having, I would have to guess, no idea at all that I was the son of their chosen victim.
To their delight and amusement, I went ahead and put my mouth around Dad's hard-on, and began to energetically give him a blow-job. I couldn’t believe how good he tasted! I used my best technique, figuring he hadn’t had a blow-job in quite a while. I knew how good a good blow-job would feel.
As I looked up, I saw Dad smile, or rather grin, that the old grin I recognized from a way back. I continued my work on his manhood, using my tongue on the most sensitive part of Dad’s (or anyone’s) dick. It’s right under where the glans peaks up into an upside-down “V”. I paid special attention to this area, which I knew would turn my dad on.
I was totally turned on by this point, and I lasciviously grabbed Dad's dick, while also looking over at Mr. Hobson and the others of my dad's office buddies. To say "they were looking on with interest," would minimize the mood of the arena. They were practically drooling, openly jerking off. And Mr. Hobson was the only one who actually knew that this "DILF" I was having such a good time with was my own Dad. And he was laughing and shouting encouragement.
So I returned to my job, giving my dad the best blow-job of his life. I didn't hurt to be watched, not by these five "suits."
I used my slippery tongue to lubricate my father's cock. Then I licked his balls while I rubbed his dick with my fist. I sucked on his balls and looked into his eyes. He looked like he was halfway to paradise, but didn't want to know the details.
I raised my head and went down on my dad's cock-head once again, using my tongue to tickle his sensitive parts, which I seem to have guessed correctly were the same as MY sensitive parts. All of a sudden Dad began to shoot in my mouth,. The first couple of shots went down my throat. Then I took his dick out of my mouth, and dad began to squirt all over the place: in my hair, on his chest hairs, which tickled me at the time as much as they usually did.
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