Dalhart Texas Summer 1966 by Mookie
- 2 years ago
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My New Life With Dad, By Mookie free porn video
When Mom died of pancreatic cancer after months of excruciating pain, Dad and I were devastated and exhausted. I'd been in a half-assed relationship with my girlfriend (the biggest whore in my high school), who'd aggressively gotten me to give up my virginity in the cargo bed of a pickup truck on the way to a Bob Dylan concert in Long Beach. I'd had so much on my plate at the time, it was like watching it happen to someone else; although Dylan was amazing. He sang "It's Alright, Ma," that night, before it came out on his 5th album.
The afternoon Dad and I returned home from Mom's simple ashes-sprinkling ceremony by her cemetery marker, in accordance with her will, attended by a few relatives and close friends, I was numbed out. I wasn't surprised to see Dad get out a beer and make himself a thick roast beef sandwich; at 350 lb. that was just his way of coping. He asked me if I was hungry, which I wasn't, but I took the beer he slid across the table. Neither one of us was crying or even especially sad; I think we were both just relieved that it was over, both speechless.
I drank another beer, watching Dad finish off a huge bowl of vanilla ice cream drenched in chocolate syrup. He let out an enormous belch, went to the living room, lit up a cigar and started watching a football game. Normally I'd leave him alone at that point, but this time I really needed his company, so I sat down next to him. He put his arm across my shoulders, something he'd done occasionally and briefly before, but this time he didn't take it away, and after a few minutes he drew me close beside him. I hadn't felt Dad's body since I was little, and the heat and bulk of it was soothing. He kissed me on the top of my head. When I looked up into that wide, ugly face I loved so well, he bent down and smilingly kissed me right on the lips.
Instinctively I put out my tongue. Realizing how inappropriate that was, I was about to withdraw it, but he wrapped his wide mouth around it, sucked it into his own hot mouth, and we found our tongues exploring each other. Dad had a copious amount of saliva and started drooling all over my face.
At that point I had a raging hard-on, could feel my pants getting soaked in pre-cum and found myself embracing Dad with a blend of love and lust he did not refuse, but returned in kind, engulfing me in his thick, powerful arms, pulling me up atop his enormous belly, while he continued to vigorously suck and explore my tongue. His breath was always typically audible, but now he was breathing so loud and hard that snot started running from his nose, mingling with our dripping saliva, but neither of us cared. Now it seemed he wanted me to suck on his tongue harder, which I gladly did. All the lifelong affection I'd had for my big strong father I now lavished on that tongue that was fucking my mouth.
Suddenly, Dad started laughing, which delighted me so much I laughed too. I easily rolled off his belly, while he picked up his cigar and began puffing contentedly. "Your old dad's a pretty good kisser, huh, Son?" he mumbled around the cigar. "How's that compare with your girlfriend?" I replied, "Honestly Dad, there's no comparison. You're the best!" He laughed behind a plume of cigar smoke and said, "Wait'll you try my tits!" and started unbuttoning his shirt. I noticed his huge hands were shaking a little, so I helped him take off his shirt and pull up his undershirt. I knew he'd grown some pretty big man boobs over the last few years, but had never paid them much attention. Now, however, I was anxious to get a better look. What a contrast to my girl's perfect firm breasts and pretty face, when I cupped Dad's sagging tits in my hands and gazed into that bulldog face with its big double chin and thick black eyebrows. He sighed loudly and contentedly, his hot breath reeking of cigar, as I fondled, kissed and sucked on his tits, running my hands over the thick, matted hair between them.
Then he asked me "Do you like your old man's big fat belly?" To me, Dad's ever-growing belly had been a comforting reminder of his presence, but I'd never thought of it as desirable per se. In my present mood, though, it looked so obscene, so gross, just jutting out so nakedly, that I actually wanted nothing better than to make love to it. I said "Yes, Daddy," using the appellative I hadn't called him by in years, and started licking, kissing, rubbing and kneading that firm, round tribute to my father's voracious appetite. "I like that, Son," he said, "you know how to make your old man feel real good." At one point, as I was squeezing that masculine belly, Dad let out a long, loud fart. The odor combined with the cigar he was slobbering around, our combined sweat and my own pre-cum which was now staining the crotch of my pants.
"Go get your old man another beer," he said, "and get yourself one too." I realized I was in fact thirsty and went to the kitchen. As I brought back the opened beers, I seriously wondered if I were dreaming all this and looked around to see if the furniture and windows were in their usual place. They were.
One thing had changed, though. Dad's pants and shorts were down around his ankles. I was pleased to see his big sacky balls, and reflected that that's where I originated. But where the fuck was his dick? As if reading my thoughts, he said, "The fatter I get the more my cock retreats into its hole. I wasn't able to satisfy your mom for years, way before she got sick. I was pretty sure if she'd sucked on my balls it'd have come out of hiding, but I knew that wasn't her thing."
I was overwhelmed with a blend of pity and lust. Without a word, I kneeled down and lifted Dad's hot nut sack to my lips. The funky odor was a personal, private benediction that seemed to bind our souls together. I kissed and licked his legs that had grown so fat they were actually becoming lumpy with burgeoning lard. They were red on the inside from so much rubbing together. I felt all my loneliness melting away, as if being sucked up into the double layer of his lower belly, which I had to push upwards with both hands in order to gobble up his balls and roll them around with my tongue. And sure enough that little appendage that had entered my mother and forced me to enter this world began gaining the strength to come out from hiding. Although Dad was circumcised, the major amount of time his dick spent in its cloister had given it a buildup of what must have been smegma. It had a rich, ripe odor which I did not find offensive, but which made my mouth water. Still pushing that heavy overlapping belly up, I swallowed Dad's cock and sucked and tongue-scrubbed it till there wasn't a trace of buildup.
"Fuck me, Son," he was whispering. I looked up at his broad, beaming smile under that balding dome, and that hairy chest framed by those big strong arms, and wondered if I'd heard him right. "Daddy, you want me inside you?" I asked. Brokenly, he mumbled "For longer than you can imagine, Sweetheart." Hearing him call me by the endearing term he'd always used with Mom was, if anything, more shocking than his request. To say that I was confused is an understatement.
Fortunately I wasn't required to say anything. "The logistics ain't gonna work on the couch. Let's go to the bedroom, boy." What a weird feeling, entering the bedroom he'd shared with Mom all my life, helping him pull back the covers and top sheet and watching him, still wearing his dress shoes and, keeping his feet on the floor, lay the huge bulk of his torso face first over the foot of the kingsized bed. He was still slobbering around the stub of the cigar that he'd put out, breathing heavily. Realizing I was still fully dressed, I tore out of my clothes and kicked off my shoes as fast as I could. My cock was throbbing, harder than I could remember it having ever been. My mind was spinning, trying to remember what my girl had instructed me to do. Would eating Dad's ass give him as much pleasure as eating Cassie's pussy had given her? Well, there was one way to find out!
I knelt between my father's tree-trunk legs. Even before I spread those hairy, fabulous cheeks, I could definitely smell that Dad hadn't cleaned himself in awhile; but he didn't ask and I didn't tell—I just went to work like a good boy. Again, the contrast with Cassie's cute, perfumed pussy was complete. It was a bit swampy inside Dad's wide crack, and I started gladly tongue-cleaning him. "Oh my God," he whispered, "this was worth waiting for. Where did you learn how to do this?" Instead of answering in words, I pushed my tongue as deep as I could into that hot, reeking hole, just grateful that my father would allow something so personal and private.
"Dad, get up on the bed. Lay on your back." He obeyed me, still sucking on that crazy drenched cigar stub and spreading his legs. I saw that his little dick was retreating into its hairy fat abode, which I wasn't about to let happen. Crawling up on the bed, I gobbled up his dick, sucking it gently, letting my drool run down it, pushing my face into the sweaty cushion of his lower belly. The s**ttered pimples and blemishes that covered his belly looked like beauty marks. I sucked harder and harder, making loud shlupping sounds, which Dad accompanied with a couple of loud farts. Not only did his cock reach its full length (such as it was), but without warning he filled my mouth with more jets of sweet cum than I could swallow. Drooling baby batter all over him as I climbed on top, I collapsed in his arms, breathing in the sweat from his armpits.
"You wanna take a nap now, Pop?"
"What are you talking about, boy? You haven't finished your work." As he rolled onto his stomach, I rolled on top of his back and effortlessly slid into that alluring lard-ass. "Wait a minute, son, " he said, getting on his knees, "I think I can please you better this way. " When I re-entered, I immediately saw—and felt—what he meant, as he shook, jiggled and swayed his huge cheeks back and forth. I truly felt I had entered a secret place meant only for me, and involuntarily started ramming him hard. "Sweetheart," he said softly, "it's so big, it's hurting me." "Dad, I don't want to hurt you, I just wanna make you feel good." In a whimpering tone I'd never heard him use, he said "You're taking my cherry, Son. Please come soon, I'm not used to this." I was glad he said that, because I couldn't have held back if I'd wanted to. As he continued to bounce and sway, my soul, my entire being entered that hot, sticky sacred hiding place—over and over!
I don't even remember lying down beside him. When I woke up, Dad was asleep on his side, facing me, loudly snoring, his cigar breath wafting over me, a stream of drool dripping down his double chins. His dentures were soaking in a glass on the nightstand. My new life with Dad had begun!
The afternoon Dad and I returned home from Mom's simple ashes-sprinkling ceremony by her cemetery marker, in accordance with her will, attended by a few relatives and close friends, I was numbed out. I wasn't surprised to see Dad get out a beer and make himself a thick roast beef sandwich; at 350 lb. that was just his way of coping. He asked me if I was hungry, which I wasn't, but I took the beer he slid across the table. Neither one of us was crying or even especially sad; I think we were both just relieved that it was over, both speechless.
I drank another beer, watching Dad finish off a huge bowl of vanilla ice cream drenched in chocolate syrup. He let out an enormous belch, went to the living room, lit up a cigar and started watching a football game. Normally I'd leave him alone at that point, but this time I really needed his company, so I sat down next to him. He put his arm across my shoulders, something he'd done occasionally and briefly before, but this time he didn't take it away, and after a few minutes he drew me close beside him. I hadn't felt Dad's body since I was little, and the heat and bulk of it was soothing. He kissed me on the top of my head. When I looked up into that wide, ugly face I loved so well, he bent down and smilingly kissed me right on the lips.
Instinctively I put out my tongue. Realizing how inappropriate that was, I was about to withdraw it, but he wrapped his wide mouth around it, sucked it into his own hot mouth, and we found our tongues exploring each other. Dad had a copious amount of saliva and started drooling all over my face.
At that point I had a raging hard-on, could feel my pants getting soaked in pre-cum and found myself embracing Dad with a blend of love and lust he did not refuse, but returned in kind, engulfing me in his thick, powerful arms, pulling me up atop his enormous belly, while he continued to vigorously suck and explore my tongue. His breath was always typically audible, but now he was breathing so loud and hard that snot started running from his nose, mingling with our dripping saliva, but neither of us cared. Now it seemed he wanted me to suck on his tongue harder, which I gladly did. All the lifelong affection I'd had for my big strong father I now lavished on that tongue that was fucking my mouth.
Suddenly, Dad started laughing, which delighted me so much I laughed too. I easily rolled off his belly, while he picked up his cigar and began puffing contentedly. "Your old dad's a pretty good kisser, huh, Son?" he mumbled around the cigar. "How's that compare with your girlfriend?" I replied, "Honestly Dad, there's no comparison. You're the best!" He laughed behind a plume of cigar smoke and said, "Wait'll you try my tits!" and started unbuttoning his shirt. I noticed his huge hands were shaking a little, so I helped him take off his shirt and pull up his undershirt. I knew he'd grown some pretty big man boobs over the last few years, but had never paid them much attention. Now, however, I was anxious to get a better look. What a contrast to my girl's perfect firm breasts and pretty face, when I cupped Dad's sagging tits in my hands and gazed into that bulldog face with its big double chin and thick black eyebrows. He sighed loudly and contentedly, his hot breath reeking of cigar, as I fondled, kissed and sucked on his tits, running my hands over the thick, matted hair between them.
Then he asked me "Do you like your old man's big fat belly?" To me, Dad's ever-growing belly had been a comforting reminder of his presence, but I'd never thought of it as desirable per se. In my present mood, though, it looked so obscene, so gross, just jutting out so nakedly, that I actually wanted nothing better than to make love to it. I said "Yes, Daddy," using the appellative I hadn't called him by in years, and started licking, kissing, rubbing and kneading that firm, round tribute to my father's voracious appetite. "I like that, Son," he said, "you know how to make your old man feel real good." At one point, as I was squeezing that masculine belly, Dad let out a long, loud fart. The odor combined with the cigar he was slobbering around, our combined sweat and my own pre-cum which was now staining the crotch of my pants.
"Go get your old man another beer," he said, "and get yourself one too." I realized I was in fact thirsty and went to the kitchen. As I brought back the opened beers, I seriously wondered if I were dreaming all this and looked around to see if the furniture and windows were in their usual place. They were.
One thing had changed, though. Dad's pants and shorts were down around his ankles. I was pleased to see his big sacky balls, and reflected that that's where I originated. But where the fuck was his dick? As if reading my thoughts, he said, "The fatter I get the more my cock retreats into its hole. I wasn't able to satisfy your mom for years, way before she got sick. I was pretty sure if she'd sucked on my balls it'd have come out of hiding, but I knew that wasn't her thing."
I was overwhelmed with a blend of pity and lust. Without a word, I kneeled down and lifted Dad's hot nut sack to my lips. The funky odor was a personal, private benediction that seemed to bind our souls together. I kissed and licked his legs that had grown so fat they were actually becoming lumpy with burgeoning lard. They were red on the inside from so much rubbing together. I felt all my loneliness melting away, as if being sucked up into the double layer of his lower belly, which I had to push upwards with both hands in order to gobble up his balls and roll them around with my tongue. And sure enough that little appendage that had entered my mother and forced me to enter this world began gaining the strength to come out from hiding. Although Dad was circumcised, the major amount of time his dick spent in its cloister had given it a buildup of what must have been smegma. It had a rich, ripe odor which I did not find offensive, but which made my mouth water. Still pushing that heavy overlapping belly up, I swallowed Dad's cock and sucked and tongue-scrubbed it till there wasn't a trace of buildup.
"Fuck me, Son," he was whispering. I looked up at his broad, beaming smile under that balding dome, and that hairy chest framed by those big strong arms, and wondered if I'd heard him right. "Daddy, you want me inside you?" I asked. Brokenly, he mumbled "For longer than you can imagine, Sweetheart." Hearing him call me by the endearing term he'd always used with Mom was, if anything, more shocking than his request. To say that I was confused is an understatement.
Fortunately I wasn't required to say anything. "The logistics ain't gonna work on the couch. Let's go to the bedroom, boy." What a weird feeling, entering the bedroom he'd shared with Mom all my life, helping him pull back the covers and top sheet and watching him, still wearing his dress shoes and, keeping his feet on the floor, lay the huge bulk of his torso face first over the foot of the kingsized bed. He was still slobbering around the stub of the cigar that he'd put out, breathing heavily. Realizing I was still fully dressed, I tore out of my clothes and kicked off my shoes as fast as I could. My cock was throbbing, harder than I could remember it having ever been. My mind was spinning, trying to remember what my girl had instructed me to do. Would eating Dad's ass give him as much pleasure as eating Cassie's pussy had given her? Well, there was one way to find out!
I knelt between my father's tree-trunk legs. Even before I spread those hairy, fabulous cheeks, I could definitely smell that Dad hadn't cleaned himself in awhile; but he didn't ask and I didn't tell—I just went to work like a good boy. Again, the contrast with Cassie's cute, perfumed pussy was complete. It was a bit swampy inside Dad's wide crack, and I started gladly tongue-cleaning him. "Oh my God," he whispered, "this was worth waiting for. Where did you learn how to do this?" Instead of answering in words, I pushed my tongue as deep as I could into that hot, reeking hole, just grateful that my father would allow something so personal and private.
"Dad, get up on the bed. Lay on your back." He obeyed me, still sucking on that crazy drenched cigar stub and spreading his legs. I saw that his little dick was retreating into its hairy fat abode, which I wasn't about to let happen. Crawling up on the bed, I gobbled up his dick, sucking it gently, letting my drool run down it, pushing my face into the sweaty cushion of his lower belly. The s**ttered pimples and blemishes that covered his belly looked like beauty marks. I sucked harder and harder, making loud shlupping sounds, which Dad accompanied with a couple of loud farts. Not only did his cock reach its full length (such as it was), but without warning he filled my mouth with more jets of sweet cum than I could swallow. Drooling baby batter all over him as I climbed on top, I collapsed in his arms, breathing in the sweat from his armpits.
"You wanna take a nap now, Pop?"
"What are you talking about, boy? You haven't finished your work." As he rolled onto his stomach, I rolled on top of his back and effortlessly slid into that alluring lard-ass. "Wait a minute, son, " he said, getting on his knees, "I think I can please you better this way. " When I re-entered, I immediately saw—and felt—what he meant, as he shook, jiggled and swayed his huge cheeks back and forth. I truly felt I had entered a secret place meant only for me, and involuntarily started ramming him hard. "Sweetheart," he said softly, "it's so big, it's hurting me." "Dad, I don't want to hurt you, I just wanna make you feel good." In a whimpering tone I'd never heard him use, he said "You're taking my cherry, Son. Please come soon, I'm not used to this." I was glad he said that, because I couldn't have held back if I'd wanted to. As he continued to bounce and sway, my soul, my entire being entered that hot, sticky sacred hiding place—over and over!
I don't even remember lying down beside him. When I woke up, Dad was asleep on his side, facing me, loudly snoring, his cigar breath wafting over me, a stream of drool dripping down his double chins. His dentures were soaking in a glass on the nightstand. My new life with Dad had begun!
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