Darren Wears the Shorts

“Damn!” said John, switching off his mobile and relaxing back in his swivel chair in front of his computer, “I might have known something like this would happen.”

“What’s up, dad?” asked Darren who happened to be passing by the open door of his father’s study just as John cursed.

“Oh hi, son, come in,” John replied, smiling and noticing not for the first time what a handsome young man his son had grown into. At 19 years old, Darren was no longer the gangly youth that his father remembered from years past. In his place stood a good-looking guy who had blossomed into adulthood spectacularly and would soon have all the girls swooning round him.


“What’s up, dad?” Darren repeated, coming into the room and sitting himself next to his father alongside a pile of neatly folded football gear that was lying on the table next to them.

“You know that footballer who was supposed to come and model this kit,” said John, indicating the all-blue kit of shirt and shorts with a nod of his head.

“Don’t tell me,” said Darren, cutting in before John could continue, “he ain’t gonna turn up.”


“No,” replied John, scarcely able to conceal his disappointment, “his agent rang, apparantly they mixed up the dates and the player’s on a mission to see all the sick kids in the hospital, one of those PR jobs they get involved in. Oh well,” John went on, “just one of the trials and tribulations of being a freelance photographer, I suppose.”

“I could always model the gear for you, dad,” said Darren.

“That’s very nice of you, son,” said John, “but the shoot with the soccer player was meant to be for a sports mag, modelling the team’s new kit, and I shan’t get paid for photographing you.”


“Ne’en mind about that, dad,” Darren went on, unperturbed, “if I model now, it’ll give you some ideas for camera angles for when the real player turns up.”

“Well,” said John in the kind of voice that meant he was prepared to accede to the suggestion, “if you want to.”

“Of course I do, dad,” said Darren standing up and lifting his T-shirt off over his head.


In spite of himself, John found to his surprise that the sight of his son standing there topless and fully prepared to change completely in front of him was starting to have an effect on him – and a very pleasant effect at that, despite the sudden shame he was feeling at harbouring such feelings. “Don’t you want to go and change in your room, son?” he asked, his voice when it came sounding more like a whisper.

“Shucks, no, dad,” Darren replied, unzipping his belt and fly and starting to lower his jeans, “we’re both men of the world, ain’t we? And I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of naked men before.”

John went to say something but found his voice stuck in his throat. In the next instant, Darren had removed his jeans and socks and then, in one fail swoop, his underpants as well until he was completely naked in front of his father. John knew it was wrong to stare but his eyes were drawn inexorably to his son’s prick which was semi-erect, his knob peeping through his foreskin and the beauty of Darren’s equipment complemented by a pair of tight low-hanging sweaty-looking balls.


Darren grabbed hold of the football kit, pulled the shirt on over his head and then reached for the shorts. They were dark blue, matching the shirt and John watched fascinated as Darren turned his back, treating his father to a momentary glimpse of his tight bare arse. Then he lifted one leg as he climbed into the shorts, pulling them up round his middle, his arse, prick and balls disappearing inside them though they left nothing to the imagination, John’s mouth watering as he realised how attractive his son’s bottom looked in the shorts, just as it had done when it was bare.

“Got your camera, dad?” asked Darren turning back to face John. From admiring his son’s bum, John now had a bird’s eye view of Darren’s package accentuated by the shorts.

“Er, yeah,” said John, shaking himself out of his reverie and trying to tune his mind to the business in hand. He reached in the drawer and took out the camera, wrapping the strap around his hand.


“Where do you want me, dad?” said Darren.

That would be telling, thought John to himself. Instead, he merely replied, “let’s have one or two of you full on, son.”

Darren stood back with his arms down by his side and then John clicked once, twice and three times while his son modelled the football kit for him. He could feel his face burning, thinking how good the pics would look once he had them in the computer and had put them on a disc to lock away before deleting them from the comp. Susan, his wife and Darren’s mother, sometimes used the comp and he didn’t want her finding out that he had been taking photos of their son in football gear.


“Want some of this number 11 shirt, dad?” said Darren, turning again so that John had yet another unobstructed view of his son’s arse prominently displayed inside the shorts.

“OK, son,” said John and began snapping, taking photos of Darren’s back with the number 11 printed large below the name of the professional footballer who should have been modelling the gear. John took snap after snap and, hoping Darren was not aware, zooming in for close-ups of his bum. There was no doubt about it, thought John to himself, his lad would make an excellent professional model.

“Got lots of ideas now for when the real player turns up?” asked Darren, sitting down now that, as far as he was concerned, the photo session was concluded.


“Sure have,” said John, who could feel himself breaking out into a sweat.

“Why don’t we put the pics in the comp and see how they’ve turned out?” suggested Darren.

“Later, son,” said John, “I gotta go and take a piss,” and before Darren could answer John swept from one of the largest rooms in the house to the smallest, taking his camera with him. He didn’t want to risk leaving it in the study and Darren taking it upon himself to put the pics in the comp, there was no knowing how Darren would react if he saw the close-ups of his shorts-clad arse where John had zoomed in on it.


In the loo, John glanced in the mirror, his face was as red as a Santa Claus outfit, his brow and cheeks dripping with sweat. He reached down with a hand and fondled the bulge in his pants. “Fucking hell,” he breathed to himself, “that lad of mine is so damn fucking sexy – and knows it, too.”

John uzipped his pants and took out his throbbing cock. Almost immediately, he let fly with a long stream of hot steaming piss, splashing into the pan like Niagara in a storm. The flow seemed to go on forever but eventually it came to an end and John shook the last few drops away, continuing to hold his prick in the palm of his hand. His cock had always had a mind of its own and the fat rod was now growing appreciably bigger as John stood there and gave it a little tug. He retracted his foreskin and fondled the tip of his knob between his thumb and forefinger, he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to do what comes naturally to 99.9 per cent of the world’s men.

“Hey dad,” came a voice through the door, “how long does it take you to have a pee? Oh shit!”


John turned, his face aghast as he saw Darren, still dressed in the dark blue shirt and shorts of the football kit he had modelled, realising he had been caught well and truly in the act.

“Darren, I’m ….” he began.

“It’s OK, dad,” said Darren, coming into the loo, “you were having a wank. Nothing wrong with that, I wank all the time.”


“Yeah, well its not something I talk about,” said John, relaxing a little.

“Dad, I saw the way you were looking at me when I modelled for you just now,” Darren went on, “I ain’t stupid. If you want to have a wank after taking pics of me then you go ahead, it’s fine.”

“Darren, I am so sorry,” John managed to croak, “I just couldn’t ….”


“… stop yourself,” interrupted Darren. “Dad, I said it’s OK, there’s no need to apologise. I know you and mum have a good sex life, I hear you through the bedroom walls each night and often wank off listening to you. It’s perfectly natural.”

John had quite forgotten that he was still standing there with his thick rod in his hand and could hardly believe what he was hearing. He knew he should be annoyed that their son listened to his and his wife’s lovemaking but the thought was having the exact opposite effect on him. He glanced at the bulge in Darren’s shorts which were screening a very obvious hard-on.

“That’s a big prick you’ve got there, dad,” went on Darren, “I’ve often wondered if you were as big as me. What do you think of this?”


Darren didn’t give his father time to protest, he reached inside his shorts and took out his aroused prick. “You ever sucked cock before, dad?”

“Lots of times,” said John, now realising that they had crossed a very taboo threshold and that it was now much too late to go back, “but don’t tell your mother.”

“How about showing me some of your cock-sucking skills,” said Darren, ignoring John’s last remark and peeling back his foreskin, the elongated shaft of his outstretched penis matching his father’s in both length and girth.


John felt as if he should be running from the room, instead it felt as if his feet were stuck to the floor with glue. He dropped to his knees, gaining eye level with Darren’s prick which the young man was proudly displaying in his hand.

“That is a lovely prick, son,” said John, “one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re only saying that ’cause I’m your son,” giggled Darren, “I bet you say that to all the men. Now, quit speaking and get sucking.”


John reached out a hand and slid it round behind Darren’s bottom, cupping the cheeks and luxuriating in the feel of his son’s firm round arse in the tight football shorts as he opened his mouth and, abandoning the last final vestiges of propriety, took Darren into his mouth, sliding the long incestuous shaft over his tongue and taking the head right to the back of his paternal throat. Darren placed his hands on John’s head as John began the blowjob in earnest, Darren rocking back and forth on his sturdy muscular legs as John sucked and sucked like a man possessed.

“Oh fuck, dad,” said Darren, “you’re a great cocksucker. Better than those other guys at college.”

Darren’s cock tasted so good in his mouth that John just couldn’t control himself, his earlier reticence completely dissipated as he continued to suck long and hard on his son’s stiff pole while at the same time touching up Darren’s arse with his hands.


“Mmmm!” mumbled John as he gagged and gagged and Darren’s grunts of pleasure grew louder in unison. John’s piss still languished in the bottom of the toilet bowl, having forgotten to flush it after he had relieved himself and the acrid aroma of his recently discharged pee pungently filled the air of the loo, adding enormously to the overall thrill of the occasion.

“I want you to lick my arse, dad,” said Darren after fifteen minutes of non-stop cock-sucking, “take a look at this.”

Darren slowly slid his cock from John’s mouth, his exposed knob hitting the side of his father’s face. John gave Darren’s balls a quick lick and then watched as Darren turned his back and bent over, sticking his shorts-clad bum right into John’s face.


“Lick my arse through my shorts, dad,” said Darren, “get ’em all nice and wet.”

“This is a dream,” John said and then stuck out his tongue and sent it careering towards Darren’s bottom, running it over the cheeks and along the crack which was highlighted by the seam in the material of Darren’s shorts. When John rested back on his haunches some five minutes later, the arse of Darren’s shorts were covered in long stains of John’s saliva and John made a mental note at the back of his mind to make sure they were given a good wash before the professional footballer deigned to turn up to model them.

“That was great, dad,” said Darren, “but licking my bare arse and hole are better. Steve and I at college are really into that, let’s see if you can better him.”


I’m sure I can, mused John silently, who realised he had been itching to rim his son ever since he had changed into the soccer gear half an hour or so earlier. Darren lifted his soccer shirt over his head and then quickly removed his shorts so that once again he was naked in front of his father, only this time with the unstated desires of earlier now no longer a closely-guarded secret.

John whistled with admiration as Darren stood naked in front of him with his cock so hard it pointed directly north. “Why don’t you get undressed too, dad?”

John now didn’t need any encouragement, he was out of his clothes in a moment to join his son in the nude. They kissed hard on the lips for several moments, snaking their tongues into each other’s mouths as they rubbed their erections together, then Darren turned and arched his body forward, once again displaying his buns to John only now in all their naked glory.


“Lick my bare arse now, dad,” said Darren, gripping his cheeks and spreading them as wide as he could, exposing his tight pink arsehole to his watching father. John’s mouth drooled at the inviting sight as Darren winked his gaping arsehole, stretching the lines on the walls as he waited impatiently for his father’s hot wet tongue.

“Come on dad,” Darren said, “don’t keep me waiting. I want you to rim me.”

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse,” said John who once again fell to his knees, his eyes taking in every detail of Darren’s arse, then he quickly inserted his tongue in the open gash of his crack between the two smooth buns, Darren’s groans of pleasure exciting him beyond belief as he started the rimjob.


Darren was wanking his hard cock through his legs as John ran his tongue up and down his son’s arse crack, stopping every now and then to kiss his cheeks. John had always loved licking arse, both male and female, but this time it was different since the arse in question was none other than that of his sexy loving son.

“I bet mum would like to watch this,” breathed Darren as John dug his tongue in deeper. John could only grunt in reply, it had never occurred to him that Susan might want to join them but knowing what a slut she was, he had a good idea that she wouldn’t object to a hot mum, dad and son threesome. And there was John earlier not wanting Susan to know anything about this afternoon at all.

“I think we should go to my bedroom, dad,” said Darren when John couldn’t carry on rimming him any longer. Together, they walked naked back to Darren’s room and climbed on to the bed, mounting each other sixty-nine style. As Darren’s head came down on John’s cock, his father’s balls tightened as he simultaneously took Darren into his mouth. The two men rolled around on the bed together, sucking cock and licking balls, completely lost in a world of love, lust and hot taboo sex.


Ten minutes later, a look passed between them which spoke more than words could say. Darren jumped up and placed his father on his hands and knees on the bed, then he reached into a drawer and took out some lube. He smeared a long worm of it onto his fingers and then worked the lube into his father’s arsehole before lubing up his prick. John glanced over his shoulder and smiled at the sight of his son preparing himself and then gasped as Darren moved in behind him and slowly and gently began to insert himself in his father’s love box.

John’s arse was easily able to take his son’s hard 19 years old cock, having been fucked by Darren’s mother many times over the years, both before and after their marriage, and he sighed happily as Darren passed through his pain barrier and began the fucking motion in earnest. Darren’s cock felt so good in his arse that John felt as if he had died and gone to heaven; he loved his wife fucking him with her array of strap-ons and dildos but a real live cock was something else entirely, made even more special – exceptionally so – by the fact that the cock in question was Darren’s.

John’s grunts of pleasure grew louder as Darren upped the tempo, fucking his father’s arse with an expertise that belied his young age. Darren had fucked plenty of guys at college and a few girls too but this was the best fuck he had ever given, feeling priveleged and honoured to prove to his father just how much he loved him.


As Darren poked and prodded for all he was worth, John’s arse tightened around Darren’s cock as he pushed back and forth to meet each and every thrust. He glanced back over his shoulder, smiling happily as Darren’s balls slapped against the inside of his thighs, thinking now how fortunate it had been that the footballer couldn’t make the photo session after all.

“I’m gonna shoot, dad,” said Darren, pulling out and immediately letting fly with several thick reams of white hot spunk which landed with aplomb on John’s bare arse cheeks. John gasped ecstatically as he felt the warm globules of incestuous sperm land on his bum as Darren moved back, standing with his sated cock in his hand.

John’s arse felt fantastically sore as he jumped off the bed and eased Darren to his knees. “Now it’s my turn,” he said as he began pumping his cock, coaxing his cum up from the depths of his big swinging balls. He didn’t have to wank for long, within seconds his spunk was shooting forth like an express train emerging from a tunnel. Darren lifted his face to receive his father’s gift, the first spurt hitting his nose and the second his face cheeks. Like his son, John could produce cumshots of true porn star quality and he moved back to send another spurt over Darren’s chest and tits.


Darren, realising that his father was a veritable spunk producer, opened his mouth for John to fill it with the last few ribbons of his rich cream, letting out a shout of triumph as Darren took it all, not stopping swallowing until he had every final drop. By the time John was finished, Darren’s face and chest were a complete mess while John’s bum still bore the remains of Darren’s spunk as it warmed his cheeks and seeped into his crack.

“I said earlier I wouldn’t get paid for photoing you in football gear, son,” giggled John when he had got his breath back, “how wrong I was.”

“Yeah, dad,” laughed Darren, the two men both still covered in each other’s outpourings as they lay naked on the bed in each other’s arms, basking in the aftermath of some of the hottest sex either had had in their lives. “There’s more than one way to pay for something!”


“Sure fucking is,” said John, all his earlier guilt and shame now completely forgotten.

“And I want to have a look at the photos you took, too.”

“Of course,” said John, “we’ll go and get cleaned up and then we’ll put them in the comp.”


“Still not want mum to know about today, dad?” asked Darren as they made their way to the bathroom.

“I think a threesome would be really good, son,” said John, turning on the shower and the two men climbed in under the jets, soaping each other down, their eager hands fondling their father and son pricks, balls and arses.

“So do I, dad,” said Darren, stepping out of the shower and reaching for a towel, John following suit a few moments later. “I told her this morning I was going to seduce you,” Darren continued, reaching for his mobile, “and she wants to join in with us tonight. Then you can return the compliment and fuck me while mum watches. I’ll give her a call and tell her to get her butt home now, she can save the rest of her shopping until tomorrow.”


Written by Bumboy

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