I Was Young Once Too

The following short tale contains sexual activities of an incestuous nature. What happened is supposedly true and were related to me by an acquaintance. Those offended by such things would not enjoy this story.


Everybody said I had the coolest Dad in the world because he never chewed me out when I screwed up, which was pretty often back in the 18th summer of my life in 1968, and while that wasn’t really the case, I still had a pretty long leash.


He didn’t mind that I drank beer back in the woods every weekend and came home pretty shit-faced, telling me that as long as I wasn’t driving and didn’t do damage to anybody or and anything, he was okay with that.

“I was young once myself,” Dad was found of saying. “Sow your wild oats now, because when you get out in the real world you’ll find that sometimes life isn’t all that much fun.”

It hadn’t been fun for Dad as of late, what with Mom passing away suddenly and him losing his job and having to settle for one that paid less. Add onto that him having to be both mother and father to a teenager, and I could see the toll things had taken on him in recent year.


He was still my hero though, and I loved him with all of my heart. He loved me too, but up until the night before I didn’t realize how much. Last night I had drank a little bit more than usual because it had been a hot night, so I didn’t remember much of what happened once I got home, but what I did recall still stunned me.

Even the next morning I was having trouble believing that it had actually happened, even though the evidence was right there. The semen stain on the sheet and the dried cum that was in my little nest of pubic hair – that was mine.

The other dried semen that was on the lower part of my back down near where my butt crack starts – that wasn’t mine. It was Dad’s, and all day I struggled to put what happened together in my mind, but couldn’t.


That was why I was determined to stay in control of myself back in the woods, watching my intake so that I would be aware of what was going on when I got home. That was easier to do that usual, because it started raining like hell, and even though we had a pretty sheltered area back there to drink, eventually the rain started to get through the leaves.

Still and all, we were a hardy bunch so we stuck it out. After all this old gang of our would be breaking up soon, with us going to college, the service or, as Dad would put it, real life.

There were 5 of us, four guys and one girl, although Roberta had always been a tomboy and wanted to be treated like one of the guys. She was like a sister to us, except for the one time a while back when she hung around after Ted and Ernie had left for home.


“You tell anybody and I’ll kick your asses,” Roberta said before dropping to her knees while Dave and I yanked our pants down as fast as we could.

Suck my dick. That was a phrase we used to say to each other, even Roberta, but it was just words until that night because no mouth had even been near mine until then. Roberta, however, knew what she was doing, so it was back in the woods that I learned the joy that could come from fellatio.

It had been new for Dave too, and he loved it too. Since he was the best friend I had or would ever have, it was great that we had shared the moment together. The next afternoon, I went over to Dave’s house to talk about it, and somehow the talk turned into action.


He was just curious, or so he said, because it had felt so good. I was equally curious, so we spend the afternoon satisfying our curiosity. Dave wasn’t nearly as good a cocksucker as Roberta had been, and I think I was worse, but we got better as the day went on.

It didn’t mean we were queer, Dave assured me, and I concurred. It was just that there weren’t many girls around, and who knew if Roberta would ever get drunk enough to repeat that glorious performance with us.

That was what Dave said, and maybe he meant it, but as for me, I wasn’t so sure. It felt just as good when I came in Dave’s mouth as it had when I had coated Roberta’s throat with my load, and as for being on the other end of the act, I didn’t want to admit that once I got over the initial aversion to putting my mouth on Dave’s cock, I liked it. A lot. I even liked the sensation of Dave’s short fat dick jerking as he shot his wad in my mouth.


So maybe he was right that we weren’t gay, but I sure as hell wasn’t straight, judging my how often I found myself in Dave’s bedroom with our dicks in each other mouths after that initial ‘experiment’.

But Dad? My Dad? He was the All-American man. Football player back in his college days. Ex-Marine who had swept my Mom off her feet after, I vaguely recall her saying, he had already worked his way through half the girls at her school. My Dad – doing what I think he had done last night to me?

Tonight would be different, so after nursing a few beers with the gang, after we were thoroughly drenched we split up. Reluctantly, I even turned down Dave’s offer of having me go over to his house.


“We could – if we stayed quiet,” Dave had said, since his folks were in the bedroom next to his, but while it was tempting, I begged off, claiming to be tired.

As I got within sight of our house, I started staggering, just in case Dad was watching. I really poured it on thick when I struggled to get the door open, and lurched into my father after he came to see who was bumping around out there.

“Good grief, Tommy,” Dad said as I let him think I was almost out on my feet. “You guys stood out in that storm?”


“Sorry,” I slurred, hoping that my acting was better than it had been in that play back in 6th grade. “Think I’m dunk. Drunk I mean.”

“Let’s get this stuff off of you and get you in bed before you break your neck,” Dad said as we stumbled down the hall. “Don’t know if you’ll still have a liver by the time you head off to college.”

Dad got me into my bedroom and sat me down, and although I was able to kick off my own sneakers Dad did the rest, peeling my socks off before pulling my shirt up over my head.


“You’re like a drowned rat,” Dad said as he pulled my to my feet, and it was true that everything on me was dripping wet.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I felt Dad undoing my belt, and although I swayed a bit to keep the act going, I made sure he was able to get my pants down, and then held onto his shoulders while he peeled my soggy fruit-of-the-looms down.

I was naked in front of my father. Wet and naked, and as I continued to mumble and sway he told me that I couldn’t go the bed like that so off we went to the bathroom, and I bounced into the door frame on the way.


“You’ll wake up with a bruise from that,” Dad said, and I mumbled an apology as we got into the bathroom.

Dad leaned me up against the wall while he got a towel out of the cabinet, and as he did I noticed that while he was wearing a bathrobe, he had nothing on underneath. That became very obvious when he turned and the robe opened up.

Hopefully Dad didn’t notice my reaction, because what I saw was nothing like what I had expected. Dad started rubbing the towel over me, lifting my arms to dry me and then working on my dripping scalp while I pretended to me almost falling asleep on my feet, but I was wide awake looking between my Dad’s legs as the robe stayed parted.


I had never seen my Dad before – not his private parts – and so that was a shock to begin with. I had seen plenty of guys naked though, having changed and showered with dozens of them after games, but I had never seen anything like what was swinging between my father’s legs.

My Dad’s cock was huge. Not just big, like the black dude that played tackle my freshman year in school, but huge. His cock looked like an elephant’s trunk as it slowly rolled back and forth while he dried me, hanging halfway to his knees.

I felt my dick tingle, and then Dad was drying me down there. I fought to keep from getting hard, trying to think about anything but what I had just seen. Thankfully Dad was bent over, blocking my view, but the sight of his face so close to my dick was also making my heart flutter.


“Gotta go? Better try, son” Dad asked, and then he was bringing me over to the toilet.

I leaned against my father as I tried to pee, and then I feel his hand on my dick, tugging and encouraging me to pee. Looking down, the sight of his long bony fingers holding my dick was erotic, but I was so scared that it kept my from getting hard.

Compared to my Dad’s cock, mine all of a sudden didn’t look all that impressive. It was hard to believe that we were even of the same species, let alone related. And to think Dave used to think I had a big one because mine was an inch or so bigger than his. In reality, my erect 6″ was as boringly average as the rest of me was.


I finally started to go, with Dad pointing my dick in the right direction while I looked over at him beside me with his robe parted. Dad wasn’t circumcised like I was, and that made it look all the more imposing. A deep beige in hue, it had one fat vein meandering halfway down the shaft before the outline of the head of his dick bulged out like a plum hidden under the shroud, and while it probably wasn’t a foot long, it sure looked it to me.

“There we go,” Dad was saying, shaking my dick after I finished, and then flushing and guiding me back to my bedroom.

Thankfully the room was dark or else Dad would have seen my dick bouncing around in front of me, having become as hard as blue steel as a result of what had just gone on. I stumbled into bed, landing face first as my final fake drunk act, and then Dad was pulling my legs onto the bed and tugging the sheet up over me.


“Night, son,” Dad said, kissing me on the top of my head and then leaving the room.

Leaving? Shit. I wasn’t expecting that. There I was with a boner that was ready to explode, and my father was leaving? I should have gone over to Dave’s house, I thought.

Then again, if I had I wouldn’t have experienced what had just gone on. Having Dad dry me and then helping me pee – well that was incredibly erotic the more I thought about it. Topping that was seeing my Dad’s cock, and as I tried to imagine what that enormous thing would look like hard I knew I would never get to sleep like this.


I reached down and grabbed one of my wet socks from the pile of clothes on the floor, and after I slid the wet cotton over my throbbing erection I began stroking myself slowly, wanting to hold it off as long as I could.

I came while thinking about my Dad and Mom having sex, the image of tiny little woman being impaled by Dad’s gigantic cock inspiring an ejaculation that made my toes curl. Slipping the sock off my spent dick, I tossed it back onto the soggy pile and settled into the bedding, wondering if I would ever be able to tell Dave about what had happened.

Whether or not I actually feel asleep or had just dropped off, I’m not sure, but when I felt the sheet slide off of me I woke right up. Dad was climbing on the bed, and with me right in the middle of it I was praying that there would be enough room for him.


He curled up next to me, his body pressed up tight against my side. I could feel the hairs on his legs against mine and his breath as it washed over my chest.

“Tommy?” Dad whispered, and I didn’t answer.

The breath on my chest got harder, and then I felt my nipple being kissed. I squinted down in the near darkness but could barely make out the back of Dad’s head before he lifted his head upward and looked up to see if I was still sleeping.


He whispered my name again, and after I didn’t answer I felt Dad’s hand on my lower belly, so gentle that I was shocked at his feathery touch. His hand then slid through my pubic hair and then was on my dick. I was unable to stifle a bit of a moan when I felt Dad’s finger rubbing the tip of my dick, and as he lightly pulled on it I felt myself getting hard.

Soon my father was holding my very stiff cock, his fingers gently sliding up and down the shaft, and then I felt the bed move. I squinted down into the murky darkness and saw my father lean over my crotch, his hot breath on my genitals, and then I felt the head of my dick in a wet and warm place.

I came almost right away. Dad’s lips only made it halfway down my cock before I felt my orgasm roar through my dick. I erupted in his mouth, and even though I had just gotten myself off a little while ago, I was so turned on by Dad’s touch and the feel of his mouth on my cock, that I was unable to hold back.


My father kept my cock in his mouth until I went limp, lightly sucking on it until he was sure I was drained, and only then did he raise his head up from my crotch and whisper my name again.

I wanted to tell him I was awake, but I couldn’t find the words. I was scared – scared of how he would react if he knew I was awake. Did he want me to answer, or was he just checking to make sure I was still asleep?

Unsure, I mumbled something and rustled around on the bed. Dad climbed back up against me, but this time I could feel his cock against my hip. It was hot and it was hard, and he was grinding himself into me, the underside of his cock rubbing against my hip.


It felt like Dad was trying to nudge me over, perhaps to get me on my stomach. Was that how he got off the last time? By rubbing his cock in the crack of my ass? Surely he wasn’t going to try and put that huge thing inside of me.

I mumbled something and idly put my hand down to my hip, where his cock was, and I heard my father gasp when he felt my hand on his cock. I wanted to grab it, but that would give away that I was awake, although I don’t now how anybody could believe I could have slept through the orgasm I had just experience.

I felt my father lean back slightly, and then felt his hand on mine. At first I thought he was taking it off, but then I realized that he was maneuvering my hand around it, or as far as my fingers could reach, and then Dad started rocking into my grip.


Dad was breathing heavily through his nose as he used my hand to masturbate with. The head of his cock was sliding on my hip, and I mumbled something that I hoped sounded like I was having a dream or something, and squeezed his cock as hard as I dared, feeling the massive organ pulsate in my grip.

Then my father groaned, and as his hand squeezed mine I felt his cum, his cock spasming as he bathed my side with his seed. I kept holding his cock even after he went limp, until he gently pried my fingers off of it.

“Tommy?” I heard him whisper, and I mumbled something in response. “I love you, son. I’m sorry.”


And then he left. After he closed the bedroom door behind himself I cursed myself for pretending that I was asleep instead of doing what I wanted to do. I wanted to tell him that I loved him too, and that he had nothing to be sorry for. I liked what he did.

My hand went to my side, and I scooped up some of the semen that hadn’t slid off of me. I brought the still warm nectar to my mouth, tasting the very seed that came from the man that had helped create me, and as I savored the flavor I made a vow that next time I would not stay silent, and maybe have the nerve to taste Dad’s cum the way I wanted to.


According to the person in the story, he did “wake up” during one of his father’s subsequent visits, but said that his father then stopped what he was doing and left the room, pretending he was drunk and said he had gone into his son’s room by mistake.

The father never went back in, and even in later years when his son admitted to his Dad that he was gay and wanted to talk about what had gone on between them, the father pretended that it had never happened and blamed alcohol for it, even suggesting that since they both had been drinking a lot during that period of time, it might have been his son’s imagination.

The young man understood why his father denied doing it, and he harbored no resentment about what his Dad had done or his refusal to admit it. In fact, the only regret he has was not being able to have the kind of relationship with his father that his Dad probably wanted but could not admit to.


thanks for reading

Written by timmywells


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