rebuilding-the-bond-1

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Subject: Rebuilding the Bond with Dad Chapter 1 – Incest Chapter 1 The park path was dark, barely illuminated by nearby street lights, but I didn’t need them, I knew exactly where I was going. I needed to burn off some steam and there was only one good way to do that. I sat down on the wooden park bench, just a few feet from an old public restroom to wait, and to think. Chet, my Mom’s current live-in boyfriend, and I, had had a big fight, again. I hadn’t really liked any of Mom’s boyfriends over the years, but I was able to keep the peace with them, but not with Chet. The funny thing was, when we moved in with him, I didn’t expect to be there this long. I don’t think we ever lived with one of her boyfriends for more than six to eight months, but it had now been over a year, and there was no sign of her wanting to move on. Chet, in her eyes, could do nothing wrong. I couldn’t even imagine what things would be like when summer arrived, with no school to distract me. The warm early April day had turned into a chilly night. I pulled my jacket tight around me to stay warm. My mind wandered to familiar territory, what if my parents hadn’t divorced? Of course, that thought was quickly replaced with the truth about how much my parents disliked each other. I didn’t realize it when I was a kid, but my Mom showed her true colors everytime she found some reason for me not to go visit Dad, just to keep him from getting what he wanted. It was obvious now that the only times I got to see him was when it was most convenient for her. I am sure Dad isn’t totally innocent either. He had told me how he had been a bit of a fuck up in life. Dropping out of school, drinking, doing drugs, getting in trouble with the law, and, of course, knocking my Mom up at just 17. But at the same time, he wasn’t a bad guy. He married my Mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant, and worked several odd jobs to keep food on the table. But, obviously, things went south fast, and they were divorced around the time I turned three. I remember enjoying the times I did get to spend with Dad. He would take me to the zoo, or amusement parks, or just hang out at his place. I miss those times. About five years istanbul travesti ago he lost his job and had to move to a bigger City a few hours away to find work. That meant I would only get to see him a few times a year. Then, about a year ago, he told me he got a job working in the oil fields a few states away. I remember him trying to press upon me that he loved me and didn’t want to go, but he had too as the money, something I know he always struggled with, was good. My train of thought got cut off when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall, shadowy figure moving down the path toward me. Without looking directly at it, I kept watch. Sure enough, it quietly slipped into the public men’s room. Showtime, I thought. After a moment, I stood up, stretched, looked around, and strolled on in as well. The bathroom was clearly an unkempt public one. Broken mirrors, rusty fixtures, trash all over the floor, and wooden stall dividers that were so full of graffiti, they almost looked freshly painted. One stall door was closed, so, naturally, I slipped into the one next to it. Dropping my pants, and sitting on the cold toilet seat, I pretended not to notice the hole, surrounded by duct tape, to my left. It didn’t take a moment before a swollen cock head slowly slid through. Even though I was just 16, I knew I was in my element. I reached up and gently caressed the shaft, before licking a dot of pre-cum off the head. I took a breath before downing the entire shaft in one gulp. The moan of pleasure from the adjoining stall told me I was starting off well. I continued to bob up and down on his thick, cut, rod, while stroking my own , swiftly hardening dick. How many times had I sucked dick at this glory hole since I discovered it? Far too many to count. This small midwestern town didn’t have many options for guys to get their rocks off. So I tried to fill that gap. I wasn’t worried about getting caught, because twice now I had discovered it was a police officer I had sucked off. Both times, however, I got a short lecture about public decency, but knew the officers wouldn’t have let me swallow their load if they were actually going to arrest me. I squeezed kadıköy travesti the base of the shaft between my thumb and index finger. His dick was so wet with my warm saliva, it was dripping. “Oh fuck” came a deep voice from the next stall. I knew I was about to get my reward. I quickened my movements and tightened my grip. Sure enough, a few moments later my mouth was filling with his warm thick jizz. I milked every last drop out of him making sure to swallow it all, not wasting any. Then, with a small smack, I pulled back, letting the quickly softening cock slowly bend down. It disappeared from sight with the sound of toilet paper being pulled from the roll. That was it, no thank you, no good job, just the sound of a zipper, and he walked out of the bathroom. I didn’t need a thank you, I knew I had done a great job. But sometimes it is nice to hear the words. Still sitting on the toilet, I started jacking my own cock harder. If I was lucky, another guy would come in looking for service, but as it was past midnight, on a weeknight, I doubted it. I let my free hand slide up, under my shirt, feeling my flat belly, and light trail of body hair. I pulled my shirt up, exposing my chest to the cool air. It didn’t take me long, thinking about all the cocks I had sucked at this glory hole, as well as the load that was now sitting in my stomach, before I felt the tension in my balls rise. With a small grunt I busted my own nut onto the dirty floor. I took a deep breath. Yeah, I thought, that was what I needed. I felt so much more relaxed now. I pulled up my pants, stepped out of the stall, washed my hands, and dried them on my jeans (the air dryer was broken), and went back out into the chilly night air. The park was dead, so I figured it was time to go home. I stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets and tracked off down the familiar path. *** Chet’s small ranch house was dark. He and Mom clearly hadn’t waited up for me. Fine by me, I thought. I quietly slipped in through the back door, and headed to my room, closing the doors quietly behind me. I didn’t like Chet, but I wasn’t going to actively make him mad if I could avoid it. My room was small, barely bakırköy travesti large enough for a double bed, dresser and desk. Of course, the pile of boxes didn’t help. When we moved in I hadn’t bothered unpacking (the furniture was all Chet’s). I placed my jacket on the back of the desk chair, peeled off my shirt, and dropped my pants. I tossed them into a heap on the floor and flopped down on the bed. Clothes always felt so restrictive to me. Of course, the only place I was free not to wear them was in my room at night. I attempted to make up for this by freeballing during the day. Everyday I would throw a different pair of underwear in the hamper, to give the illusion I was wearing them, but I never did. This practice had given me a nice pair of heavy, low hanging balls that I loved, and would play with every chance I got. As I lay there naked, massaging my empty nut sack, my mind drifted back to my Dad, wondering what he was doing? I hadn’t received a letter from him in quite a while. I’m sure working in the oil fields is difficult, he is probably too tired to do anything at night. Yeah, that’s right, Dad and I write letters back and forth. Very old school, I know. But when he first moved out of town, it became a unique, and almost special way for us to communicate. Plus, it was something Mom couldn’t control, like me being on the phone with him. The letters weren’t anything deep, mostly just, `Hi’, `How are you doing?’ `I am fine’. That sort of thing, but that didn’t matter. I know it sounds childish, but I was always excited to get a letter from him. I was just starting to doze off when I had a brilliant realization! Why had I not thought of this before! Now, wide awake, I hopped off my bed, grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from the desk and began writing. Dad, Hope all is well with you. Sorry I have been out of touch, school has been busy. Summer break is around the corner and I was wondering, could I come spend the summer with you? I know you will be working, but that is okay, I can take care of myself. It would just be nice to spend time with you, and not be around that bastard Chet. Let me know asap. Love Ian I hastily scrawled his P.O. Box address on an envelope, stamped it, and placed it in my backpack. I could drop it off in the mail tomorrow on my way to school. Suddenly, I felt so light, an entire summer away from Chet, that would be amazing. I crawled into bed, and quickly slipped into a deep ail

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