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Subject: Dad’s Big Dick 4 DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts between two men. If this type of content offends you or you are under the age of 18 do not read it. Author’s Note: This story is the property of the author. It can be downloaded for personal reading pleasure or sending to a friend, but if you wish to re-post them at your own site, please contact the author for permission. If it is illegal to read such material where you live or if you find the topic distasteful, then please leave now. Copyright 2017 jaywizetoo, all rights reserved. Please contact me at ail if you like. I welcome all feedback. * * * The house was dark, for the most part, except for the small blizzard of lights in red, green and blue that lined every window sill and covered the handsome fir tree next to me. With the lights out, the atmosphere was warm and otherworldly. Shadows cast by the twinkling lights moved in soft, jerking movements upon the walls and ceiling, and the fireplace on the other side of the room cracked and popped. I knelt, in a forest green pair of thermal underwear, just a few feet from one of the living room windows. My bare back faced the wall and a strong hand cupped the back of my head. “That’s it, sport. Use your tongue. Softly. You don’t wanna make Santa angry, do you?” The voice was mocking, laced with the tiniest edge of contempt. It belonged to my father. Dad was dressed in, of all things, a plush red suit lined with white fur at the cuffs and along the hems. The whole ensemble came complete with a sagging pointed cap of the same color, and shiny black knee boots with silver buckles. He might have passed for the real thing but for the wide, muscular chest and flat belly. He looked more like some gay porn equivalent of St. Nicholas. Under my hands, the muscles of his thighs flexed and twitched as I sucked his big dick. The fur of his cuffs tickled my face and I stared up at the open jacket, past the deep cleft between his pecs to his neck, where I could see the beginnings of powerful shoulders under the bright red cloth. In the half-light of the room I could see that his handsome face was covered in dark scruff and the fake white beard he had been wearing was pulled to one side. “Fuck,” he moaned in that deep, sensual voice of his that makes me dizzy with lust. “You’re getting so good at this, sport.” With his red breeches pooled around his boots, dad pumped his hips slowly, grinding himself into my face, his breathing heavy and rhythmic. Outside the window, the occasional set of automobile headlights passed the house. We didn’t live far from the road, and the two of us were plainly visible from the street, if one were observant enough to look over. I wondered how many drivers had noticed the scene playing out under colored lights and burning logs; my kneeling before Santa, my head bobbing steadily between his legs, only partially obscured by the open red jacket with its white fur lining. “This what you wanted, sport? Probably all your life…” A brief flash of annoyance rose within me, but these little taunts of his were bothering me less and less as the months went by. I had kneeled before, bent over, submitted to, sucked and licked every inch of this man’s body for the better part of a year, and the habit had been formed. I was hooked. I wasn’t fooling anyone at this point. Mom was long gone. My sisters, like her, appear to have washed their hands of the house, dad, and even me. I didn’t care. I was almost nineteen at this point, and this was all that mattered to me now; the silken skin of daddy’s huge cock massaging my tongue into the bottom of my mouth; that slow, electric widening of my throat as he used me. From outside, a car honked its horn. My face flushed a deep scarlet and dad laughed. “That’s six, sport.” The whole world could see how much of a whore I was for my dad. He pulled my head forward, as if reasserting his ownership of it, and buried that heavy pole deep in my gullet. “Looks like there are a few guys out there who enjoy watching you swallow Santa’s cock, aren’t there? Maybe they think it’s my wife blowing me from that distance. But it’s not. It’s just my faggot boy doing his Christmas duty.” He loosened his grip and I pulled back far enough to take a breath and whisper, “Fuck you, dad.” Dad grinned down at me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sport? But first, I wanna use that mouth some more.” He reached down, taking his heavy manhood in his right hand and slapping my cheek with it, making a wet meaty thud with each impact. I tried to capture the thick organ in my mouth, but he pulled away, putting his free hand on top of my head and holding it firmly in place. He swiveled his hips, wagging his big dick in front of my mouth. I played with the fat head, laving it with my tongue and coating my lips with his salty sweet precum. He loved teasing me this way. His arrogance was both nauseating and intoxicating, but there was no escaping it. I could kneel and service him like this all night, every night, filling my mouth with the potent taste of my dad’s ball juice, crazed by the debauchery of the act. “Now,” dad said, turning away from me towards the window, “Get to work.” His jacket opened as he bent over, exposing his muscular torso, thick bouncing cock and low-hanging balls to the outside world, as if daring them to watch as he stood there, lewd and confident. Reaching back, he pulled the hem of the coat up his back, exposing his ass to me, that perfect bubble lined with soft fuzz. “Eat Santa’s butt, sport.” I leaned forward and ran my cheeks over the soft skin, enjoying the sensation and teasing him with feather-light flicks of my tongue. “I said EAT,” he growled, and I dove in, burying my face between his cheeks. My lips found his tight, puckered hole and I kissed him there; a passionate kiss, as one might see between two lovers. Dad groaned as I slid my tongue past the warm sphincter, tasting his guts as I frenched a grown man’s asshole. Even now the perversion of it made my cock harden and leak into my underwear. “Oh shit, sport. Fuck yesss.” He pushed back against me, his hole spasming around my tongue as he struggled to get more of my inside of him. I wrapped my arms around his thighs, hugging him close and driving my wet tongue as deeply as I could past that soft, masculine anus. “Jesus fuck,” dad gasped, escort “that’s good. Eat daddy’s hole. That’s what you like, isn’t it? Fucking use that tongue kiddo. Suck on Santa’s shithole, boy. Oh god, yeah… Just like that.” I ate and sucked, driving my tongue in and out of him faster and deeper as he cried out and filled the air around us with obscenities. “God damn, sport. Your mom never ate me this good. You must have learned from someone else. Maybe your golf teacher showed you the ropes, huh? You ever suck on his hole like this?” My mouth was occupied, so my only answer was a moan into the wet, silken walls of daddy’s asshole. I breathed hot air into him, the slurping sounds mixing with the popping of the fireplace across the room. Daddy reached back to pull my head further into his butt and his hips ground lewdly, his perfect cheeks sliding hotly against my own. His voice rose in volume, as if he were addressing someone else. “Fuuuuuck, yes..” he moaned. “Hey DAD, you gotta try this faggot’s tongue…” I froze. From the other room, a man cleared his throat. A large, hulking figure lumbered into the living room, throwing a shadow over the two of us. He was both tall and wide, wearing a Santa suit of his own, only the exposed parts of his body were dusted with pure white fur and a full white beard. I had seen my grandfather Jacob a few times over the years as I had grown up. He had always struck me as a gruff, unfriendly sort; someone from a different generation; one that wanted nothing to do with mine, and had produced little other than cold, hyper-masculine assholes, because that was apparently how men were meant to be. Like dad, Grandpa Jake was powerfully built. Massive pecs had merged with fat over the years, becoming truly huge and crowned with reddish brown nipples the size of large thimbles. His belly was round and impressive, hanging over the white fur waistline of his breeches, but his shoulders and arms still bulged, huge and godlike, with muscle. Like dad’s, the front of his Santa coat hung open, exposing that huge torso. His dark eyes met mine and he walked forward, the big black boots thunking heavily on the floor, a buckle on each glinting in the firelight. He stopped in front of me, looking down at my wet lips and bare chest. He didn’t smile, but his eyes glittered with the same leering, perverted lust that I saw in my dad’s face when we stared at each other. Leaning down, Grandpa Jake slid the plush bottoms down with huge, rough-looking hands. I gasped. His cock and balls made dad’s look like those of a young boy. The massive shaft rested atop two lemon-sized balls, themselves set between huge, tree-trunk thighs. Dad turned around behind me, facing the two of us, and knelt, putting one hand on my head and the other on my left shoulder. Grandpa Jake said nothing, but instead turned in place, presenting a thick wide ass to me. Then he bent over, pulling the huge cheeks apart. I smelled soap, mixed with the masculine aroma of his body, hints of tobacco and leather and earth and his natural musk. The exposed hole was big, round, rosy red, crinkled and fat, like a pair of lips. Dad pushed my head forward until my lips touched the old stud’s anus, then my eyes closed and I let out a feral sound like a snarl, stuffing my tongue up the sixty-five-year old’s shithole. The old man grunted and pushed back. “Fuck…” He tasted like dad, but even more so. I had flashbacks to birthdays and Easters and weddings, but couldn’t imagine how I had never seen Grandpa Jake this way, as a sexual being. It was as if he had never really existed to me until this very moment. “That’s it, sport,” dad whispered, “suck on Grandpa’s hole. Nice and deep. You like that, don’t you? Only other tongue that’s been up that ass is in my mouth, kid. Good boy. Taste him. Get in there deep, sport. Eat that fuckin’ stud hole, faggot.” The old man grunted and arched his back, pulling his cheeks farther apart until his ass gaped and glistened with my spit. The hole was soon wider than my own lips, so the passionate lick-kissing became deeper and more intimate. His anus covered my whole mouth as I drove my hot tongue in as far as I could reach. “God damn, boy,” Grandpa Jake rumbled. “So good. Get in there…” He lowered his ponderous weight to his knees and leaned forward, resting on his elbows upon the floor, his big ass in the air, that massive belly resting on the hardwood beneath him. I ate him out for what seemed like hours. Time blurred. Behind me, dad placed his hard cock at the entrance to my own ass and begin sliding the slick head around the hole, lubricating me as he watched me service his father. I moaned into Grandpa Jake’s ass as the fat head of daddy’s dick popped past my tight ring and sank inside me. The old man looked back at me and grinned from under the thick white beard which, unlike my father’s, was genuine. “Good boy,” Grandpa Jake growled to dad. “Fuck him the way I taught you, son. Fuck him good and hard; breed him so deep he can’t wash you out of him when you shoot.” Grandpa spread his legs further, his gargantuan balls swaying back and forth and the apple-sized head of his wide shaft drooling a thick, clear stream of precum down to the floor. I licked and sucked, reaching up to fondle those massive testicles, enjoying their heat and the heft of them in my fingers as I ate the old man out. I slid my hand around the iron-hard cock, but my fingers weren’t even close to meeting on its other side. With each touch of my hand, the huge organ flexed and slapped the bulging belly, like a stallion masturbating himself in a summer pasture. Dad moved, slow and powerful, inside me. He fed more and more of his cock into my hole until after what seemed like an endless inward plunge, he bottomed out. He thrust once to drive my tongue into Grandpa Jake’s guts, then he started breeding me, as the old man had commanded. “You like that mouth, dad?” Grandpa Jake laughed, and his asshole tightened around my tongue. “Fuck yeah, son. But I’m betting his ass is even better, and that mouth was made for more than frenching my big ol’ butt.” The huge polar bear rose, then, turning and squatting down on his muscled haunches, the snow-white fur covering his thighs almost glowing in the firelight. His mule cock quivered, angry and engorged, jutting up from his groin like a tree stump. “Get on that cock, kid. You wanna taste Grandpa’s izmit escort bayan big hammer, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. Now filled to bursting with dad’s big dick, I could barely pay enough attention to take orders, but something about that massive tool in front of me drew me forward. Grandpa Jake’s chest looked huge and wide from this angle. The massive pecs stood out from his body like a woman’s breasts, though still filled with decades of hard, lean muscle under the layer of fat. They were covered in silver-white hair and rippled as he adjusted his position and glared down at me. I wrapped my lips around the fat head of yet another of my blood relatives, and it seemed more than right. More like destiny. The growl that rose from that big, powerful chest was more animal than man. I sucked hard, taking four or five inches of the throbbing log into my mouth. A big, fur-covered paw covered my head and the old man’s head fell back, the keen eyes rising to the ceiling as he pushed more and more of his thick meat down my throat. Dad was fucking me hard no, deep-dicking me in powerful, slick strokes. I could feel his hands on my hips, squeezing as he pumped himself in and out of me. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon,” dad gasped. I knew this, of course. I had experienced it often enough that I could always tell when dad was close, when his balls contracted against his taint and his legs quivered, and his breathing reached that perfect line between excitement and hyperventilation. I knew just how to push him over the edge. I tightened my ass around his cock hard; another trick I had learned over the past 8 months. “Oh Jesus….” Grandpa Jake was breathing heavily now, too. “Give it to him, son. Fill his pussy with his dad’s cum. That’s what he needs. Breed him good and deep.” “And you…” the old man directed at me, his fist tightening in my hair. “Stop your fucking whimpering and get ready to swallow Grandpa’s load. It’s gonna be a big one.” I gulped and bobbed and gagged on the donkey-sized meat as the old man talked dirty. “You want that cum, boy? Here it comes. Drink it down, now!” Behind me, dad cried out and buried himself deep in my guts. I felt the thick cock pulsing inside me as he filled me with his potent seed in thick, powerful spurts. Grandpa Jake roared, and his tits and belly shook. My mouth and throat instantly filled with hot, creamy cum, sperm-rich and fertile. The first gush was big. The second blasted down my throat and up my nose, pouring out my nostrils as I choked and struggled to take as much of the massive flood into my belly. My mind was ablaze, imagining the sight from our street; two powerfully built men, each buried in one end of a thin, smooth teen with a swimmer’s build, filling him with incestual loads of potent, baby-making sperm, hooting and howling to each other in the triumph of their domination. We all three collapsed upon the floor, overheated and spent. Dad and Grandpa Jake’s torsos gleamed with wetness beneath their Santa coats. My back was covered in sweat from my neck to the deep green of the long underwear bunched around my knees. Dad pulled himself out of my ass with a wet plop, his chest rising and falling as his breathing returned slowly to normal. Grandpa Jake patted my head, pulling his thick cock from between my lips. He was still hard, the wrist-thick shaft jerking upwards with each heartbeat. “Not bad, kid,” the old man said. “If I’d known you could do that, Santa would have visited a few years ago instead of tonight.” Behind me, dad smacked my ass and chuckled. “No time like the present, eh?” Fuck, both of them were still hard. How was that possible?” “Maybe we should switch places… let you widen the kid’s ass a little more,” dad suggested. Grandpa Jake answered, “Like I was gonna leave here tonight without getting a piece of that grandfaggot’s pussy.” He looked down at me with an all-too-familiar sneer. God, was it possible that the two of them were actually the same raging asshole in different bodies? “Turn around, boy. Spread those legs,” the old man ordered. Dad rose to his feet, letting the red coat fall to the floor in a heap. “On one condition, dad. He needs to be in front of the window… this big one by the patio. I’m hoping the neighbors get to enjoy the show.” The window overlooking the patio was huge, half of it a tall, sliding glass door. The curtains were pulled back, and I could see at least three other houses, all with their lights blazing. I shivered. “Take that off,” Grandpa Jake gestured to my thermal underwear. He took off his own top and tossed it behind him as I stepped out of the bottoms. Without the red jacket, the big man was even more impressive. His massive pecs hung down slightly, the big nipples pointing downward. Even so, the muscles bounced and flexed as he moved toward me at the windows, looking over my shoulder at the houses just a lawn away. I backed away from him instinctively, but the glass stopped my progress. Grandpa Jake stopped just inches from me. My eyes were level with the bottom of his neck. He moved forward again, and his round belly pushed against mine. I felt his hot breath upon my forehead first, then upon my lips as he lifted my chin with a finger. I looked into those dark eyes and started to say something, but Grandpa Jake’s lips touched mine and his fat tongue pushed into my mouth, probing and writhing against my teenaged tongue. I felt that massive organ pressing against my belly button. His huge, furry body seemed to surround me. Every inch of him radiated power and authority. No wonder dad had turned out the way he did. What choice would he have had? Grandpa Jake’s voice was a slow, intense growl into my mouth. “You give up that tight little hole of yours to your daddy whenever he wants it, you understand? That’s his right. But remember, I took his ass just like I’m gonna take yours when he was sixteen. He’ll talk a good game, but I’m the big bear in this den, got it? He’ll always play second fiddle to his daddy, just like you’ll always come in second with him. Now… bend over for granddad. I’m gonna put my babies inside you right next to my son’s.” I nodded, my eyes wide with desire and fear. I turned, facing the window, and braced my hands against the cold glass. The old man’s beard tickled the back of my neck as he ran his hot tongue over my smooth skin, tasting izmit sınırsız escort my sweat. I felt his teeth close on me and he held me there, a fold of my shoulder muscle in his mouth, like a wolf immobilizing his bitch before breeding her. I braced myself for the invasion, willing my already used hole to relax. “Good boy… let Granddad inside. Don’t fight it.” The slick, blunt head of his mighty cock nudged at my anus, sliding back and forth in a slow circle, widening me bit by bit. Dad watched us from a few feet away, encouraging his father, in a low sex-drenched voice, to take me harder, since he had already loosened me up. Grandpa Jake grinned at his son, but it wasn’t a friendly grin. “Why don’t you make yourself useful, boy, and find a way to MAKE me, if you want me to fuck the little faggot harder.” The fat head inched further into me, as Grandpa Jake’s fat belly rubbed my lower back, obscuring the view of his thick root entering me. The old fuck probably hadn’t seen his own cock in years, other than reflected in a mirror. But he knew well enough how to locate a hot hole and hot to use it. I watched dad sneer at his father, then he disappeared from my immediate view. Grandpa Jake tensed up, holding me very still, then he let out a long, whiskey-soaked breath and grunted like an animal. I knew at once that dad had entered him, sliding that thick snake up his own father’s wide, white butt. “Oh fuck, son. Use that big cock, boy. Breed daddy’s big hole.” “Yes, sir.” Sir? I had never heard my father use that word with anyone. Suddenly, dad pulled back and slammed his cock all the way into Grandpa Jake’s ass to the hilt. The impact drove the old man’s huge organ straight up my own hole, shoving my head and shoulders into the glass of the patio door. What a sight from the outside, I imagined; the tall, muscular image of my asshole of a father joined cock-to-ass with the hulking, white-furred body of his own dad, whose huge body dwarfed the slender build of his eighteen-year-old grandson, impaled between his massive thighs and bulging belly. And then we all surrendered completely to whatever demon had filled us with his perverted need to fuck our blood relatives. Man bred older man, who fucked boy, long and hard, the sounds of hot flesh slapping hot flesh filling the room. I turned to grab the arm of the nearby couch for support. Dad and Grandpa Jake followed suit, and we all watched our reflections in the glass door, grunting and moaning and swearing and fucking like the animals we were. I shot first. There was no way to prevent it. Grandpa Jake’s donkey cock hit places inside me that even my dad had never reached. That giant head dragging back and forth over my prostate; I had no chance at all to resist the urge to empty my balls. I screamed as my orgasm ripped through me, setting my nerves on fire and reducing me mentally to little more than a lower lifeform, hips jerking and spewing my young cum all over the floor beneath me. Grandpa Jake and Dad came together, their bellows almost deafening as each unloaded into the hole he was using. The huge belly slapped my back as the old man sank his teeth into my shoulder once more, sucking hard on the smooth flesh, and I could feel the sharp thrusts of dad’s cock through the body on top of me, both men milking the rest of their ball juice into their lovers’ slurping holes. Grandpa Jake wrapped a huge, muscled arm around my neck from behind and slid his tongue into my left ear, probing and breathing hot, steamy air into the cavity. He hesitated there for a long moment, just breathing and coming down from his high. I realized, suddenly, that my dad had taken after this old bear in more ways than one. I felt liquid hotness expanding deep in my guts as Grandpa Jake released his bladder and dumped scalding, golden piss up his grandson’s colon. “Oh fuck, Grandpa,” I gasped. “Take it all, baby boy. Take….every fuckin’ drop of my piss and sperm. You aren’t done until I’m empty, you hear?” “Same goes for you, pops,” dad said from behind us. His voice was strained and still thick with lust. I knew he was filling Grandpa Jake up with his own prodigious pissload. We just stayed there, frozen in place like some pornographic piece of statuary, as the two studs relieved themselves. The amount of piss the old man was dumping inside me was shocking. It seemed like he could do this forever. By the time the strong, thick flow slowed, then stopped, I was beginning to cramp. “Better head out there, kid,” Grandpa Jake instructed. “and let all of that back out. I know my own bladder, and you won’t make it to the bathroom.” He was right, I knew. And at this point, I didn’t care who saw me, anyway. I slid the patio door open and slipped outside, taking a few seconds to enjoy the cold air on my sweaty skin. A few yards from the house, I squatted and released a gush of golden piss and cum that steamed and hissed the second it hit the snow beneath me. From across the lawn, I saw that pack porch of our neighbor, Mr. Hammond. In fact, I saw Mr. Hammond standing on Mr. Hammond’s back porch. I hadn’t realized until too late that he was watching me. He was bundled up in a dark pea coat and a knit cap. The end of a thick cigar glowed between his lips as he observed the naked teen out in the snowy yard. I flushed with embarrassment. Mr. Hammond was married, and God only knew what he thought of this display. I silently prayed that he had just come outside and hadn’t watched me being filled with piss in the first place. I trotted back to the patio door, stopping to shoot one last glance back at Mr. Hammond before slipping back inside the warm house and sliding the glass closed behind me. Dad and Grandpa Jake were sitting at the kitchen table as I walked past the doorway, a couple of glasses of scotch and ice in their big hands. Their coats were back on; nothing to see here. Just two Santas passing the time and talking like old fishing buddies. I didn’t join them. Their interest in me was over for the time being. I showered, letting the hot water run down my body, soothing my muscles and my well-used hole. I knew I would be walking funny by tomorrow morning. As I turned out the bedroom light and slid into bed, I closed my eyes, taking a deep, cleansing breath. From the front of the house, I heard a knock at door. Then I heard men’s voices and laughter. I’d swear that one of the voices belonged to Mr. Hammond. He was probably here to rat me out to my dad, unless he had already seen enough to know better. I imagined the possibilities as I drifted off into a satisfied sleep. The holidays were definitely looking up. * * *

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