Gay Erotic Stories

Dario 'n Dad (Part I) Even as a toddler he clearly took after his mother's side of the family, those dark curls and big blue eyes the combination of her Italian father and Polish mother's ancestry. Dario's name comes from a combination of my father (David) and my wife's pappa (Mario). He used to always say that he wanted to play basketball and that since I was tall that wouldn't be a problem. It turned out that he's pretty good at soccer, because he's short to the ground with thick muscular legs. He got his first electric razor when he was thirteen, probably the only kid in his 7th grade class who really needed to shave on a regular basis. As a high school freshman he was embarrassed to wear gym shorts because his legs were so hairy, and by the end of that year he'd begun to develop a mat of fine (but dark) hair on his chest. So here he is, two days past his 18th birthday and my own kid is driving me crazy. I came home from work early and glanced out the kitchen window to see him sitting out by the pool. Shit, for a kid who was once embarrassed to wear gym shorts he's certainly overcome his inhibitions. His mother's asked him not to wear that particular pair of swim trunks any more, just because they're so revealing. If he thought either of us were home he'd be wearing a more conservative pair. He's laying on his back on the chaise lounge next to the water's edge, his body smeared up with that expensive tanning oil he likes to use. When I go outside for any length of time I need to use sun-screen -- but not him. He never seems to burn, just gets browner and browner. You'd think all that time in the sun would bleach out his dark hair, but it doesn't. To the contrary, when he smears that gooey oil onto his body the hair seems to get even thicker and darker looking. I catch myself staring at the big bulge in the front of his scandalous trunks. From the looks of him, he at least got that characteristic from my side of the family. I haven't seen him completely naked since he was in grammar school, but most of the clothes he wars leave little to the imagination. He's probably not hung quite so big as me....I have yet to meet anyone who can match the 11 and 1/4 inches I have. I remember back as a teenager being just as self-conscious of that as Dario initially was with his hairiness. As I'm watching him from the window I start to get a hard-on. Jesus, what's wrong with me? I tell myself to get control but all of a sudden he turns over on the chair. Forget about control at this point! Holy shit, no wonder his mother hates this suit. There's just this thong type thing that runs up the back of it, tucked into the crack of his extremely hairy ass, and another thin strip connecting the front panel to the one up the back. In my lifetime I don't think I've ever seen a butt quite so thickly furred as my son's and I suddenly realize I have a full-fledged erection while I'm staring at him. Yeah the hairiness is a real turn-on, but also the fact that his buttocks are so firm and fleshy and plump is getting to me. I catch myself being jealous of that strip of material tucked up into the crack of his sweaty, hairy butt. I can't stand it any longer. I whip out my cock and stroke it a few times while I dream about what it would be like to bury my face in his crack. Suddenly I blow a huge load all over the sink and the faucet fixtures. It's a lot! I reach under the sink and get a roll of paper towels to wipe up what I can't rinse off with the hose at the sink. Just as I finish up and stuff my big 11-incher back into my slacks I hear my pager go off and for the next hour I'm stuck in my office (off the living room) dealing with a problem at work. For the moment at least, my hot and hunky son has taken a back seat to other concerns. By the time we sat down at dinner I'd already had a couple of drinks, partly because of the stress of the problem from work, and partly to get my mind off Dario and how he'd looked out by the pool. We seldom "dress" for dinner, but when he showed up at the table wearing a very open-weave mesh tank top and a pair of running shorts the effect was incredible. Of course any time he wears a tank-top the hair on his chest and arms is evident, even poking out the sides below the arm openings. With this particular shirt though, his thick hairiness was literally shoving through the material. At one point he got up to get something from the kitchen and as he bounced back into the room it was very obvious that he wore nothing beneath the running shorts. I tried not to stare, but it was difficult. "How was work today dad?" he asked me from across the table and I mentioned that we'd had a big problem late in the day. "I thought you were planning to come home early" my wife said, and I shot a look at Dario who evidently didn't realize I'd managed to do what I'd planned. For all he knew, he was all alone at the pool that afternoon. "Well, I have some great news!" my wife said and we both looked at her for more. "Marge Daniels has to have an emergency hysterectomy!" she blurted out, and both Dario and I stared at her for some kind of explanation as to how that was such great news. "Don't you see?" she went on "with Marge in the hospital I'm next in line to go to the bridge tournament in Newport Beach. I'm scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, but I told the other girls I had to check with you two first, to make sure you would be okay without me". "Oh mom, that's great!" Dario said, insisting that somehow he and his old man would survive for the week while she would be gone. I wasn't so sure, but agreed with him and she jumped up from the table to finish the packing she'd already finished 90% before getting our approval. She suggested that maybe I could get away and join her, but I told her that was out of the question. I had about 12 weeks of vacation time accumulated, but couldn't even consider leaving town for a whole week (or even several days). "Oh you work too hard!" she said, but knew she wouldn't be able to change my mind. "Looks like it'll be you and me 'bacheloring it' huh dad?" Dario said, and I couldn't help but notice a glint in his eye as he said it. I didn't sleep very well that night. She was right, I was working too hard. Most days I left home by 7:00 a.m. at the latest, often an hour or so earlier. Even on Saturdays and Sundays I would go to the office, normally grabbing a cup of coffee and maybe a roll with her before heading out. Still, it had been years since I saw Dario early in the morning. He typically would come home late and sleep in far longer than I did. On the morning that she left for the bridge tournament though he managed to get up in time to see her off. Oh damn, this was just what I didn't need, seeing him with his rugged night's worth of thick stubbly whisker all over his face. I don't know if my son slept in the nude or not -- but he had slipped on those same turquoise running shorts he'd worn to dinner the night before. He hugged his mom and told her to have a good time and she returned the wish to him. "Oh I plan to if you're gone!" he teased her, and she good-naturedly punched his hairy chest in return, commenting on how firm his muscular body felt against her fist. "Aw c'mon mom" he said, pretending to be embarrassed by her attention. "Promise me you'll shave every day while I'm gone, and don't -- I repeat don't wear those awful swim trunks if there's anyone else here!" she said to him, and Dario insisted that he would follow her demands. "I won't wear them, I promise!" he said, rubbing his own hand over his furry upper body as he crossed his heart. She knew she didn't have to extend the same caution to me. I never missed a day shaving (although it wouldn't be nearly so obvious if I skipped a day as it was with Dario) and I certainly had no swim trunks that required judgement to be worn out in public. We left the house with Dario grinning at both of us, his stunningly white and straight teeth (the result of three years of braces) creating a stark contrast to the scruffy mange of dark bristle on his face. "Hey dad" he called out to me as I left the house "maybe today you can get away early. How 'bout you bring home some beers and we'll order pizza for dinner? Just you and me". "Yeah sure, I'll try" I said nervously, thinking that it would be damned near impossible for me to leave early two days in a row. Of course he didn't realize I had been home early the day before. By lunch time though, I was deciding what I could do to sneak out and get home while he might still be out sunning by the pool. I was on my way out the door at 2:15 when Marge (my secretary) called out to me. Mr. Carmichael's on the phone" she said, and I tried to mouth to her that I was already gone. She put her hand on over the phone and said "It's important!" It was, of course, and it took another two hours before I could leave. So much for getting home early. Still there was a slight chance I could catch Dario out by the pool and I drove so recklessly that I almost had an accident. I could just imagine the newspaper headlines "LOCAL BUSINESSMAN KILLED TRYING TO GET HOME TO SEE HIS HAIRY HUNK SON OUT BY THE POOL" Of course there would be no way the columnist writing my obituary would know that, but it didn't stop me from thinking it. I pulled into the driveway and didn't even bother to put my car in the garage. Perhaps I was trying to avoid alerting Dario that I was home by using the automatic opener. Instead I quietly got out of my car, and tiptoed up the back garden steps to the rear of the house hoping to catch him out on the pool deck. From the kitchen window the day before it had been quite a sight, and I was determined to get the same view close-up this afternoon. My heart pounded as I rounded the corner and I muttered a "Damn!" under my breath. The lounge chair where my son had lain the day before was empty, but I could see (and smell) the remains of the thick gooey sun-tan oil on the surface of the chair. That meant I hadn't missed him by much. Shit! I let myself in the sliding glass door to the kitchen and headed for the liquor cabinet. There I poured myself a stiff shot of vodka and downed it quickly before pouring a refill. I thought I'd heard water running as I came in, but decided it was the sound of the door sliding on the track. I hadn't noticed Dario's GEO Tracker in the driveway, but it might have been in the garage. Had I not left my car out I would know the answer to that for sure. I stood at the sink and looked out the window, my mind returning to the previous afternoon and how I'd been so turned on by the sight of him that I'd masturbated right there in the sink. I thought about doing it again when a sound caught my attention. "Hey dad!" he said, and I whirled around to see him standing in the open space between the kitchen and the family room. I must've made an audible gasp at the sight of him, and he asked if he'd startled me. "Yeah that's it, I didn't know you were here" I said, but that wasn't the reason I'd drawn in a quick deep breath. No, it was the view of him standing there with white towel wrapped around his waist, almost (but not quite) coming together to be tied at one side. The gap between the two ends of the towel showed most of his one beefy, hairy leg. He'd just stepped out of the shower and his chest and belly mat was still damp from the water. It wasn't soaking wet, just moist enough to be sexy as hell and to pick up the reflections of the sun streaming into the family room from the west. The thick curls on his head were still wet too, and (unlike what he'd promised his mother) he had not shaved that day. His deep blue eyes glistened and I suddenly realized who he reminded me of. It was that TV actor Brian Bloome, the darkly handsome hunk who starred in that "Bandit" show. I think he was on one of the soaps when he was younger. The difference between him and Dario though was that my son was a lot (a lot) hairier and --- here's the more important part -- just a few feet away from me. "I thought you were going to be home early today" he said, adding that he'd stayed out by the pool later than normal hoping that we might be able to spend some time together. "I just came in a few minutes ago to shower and shave. I promised mom you know" he said, and I reminded him of the other promise he'd made her. "You didn't wear that awful swim-suit today did you?" I asked him, and his answer was the beginning of my downfall. "Hell no dad, a promise is a promise right. I told her I wouldn't wear them and I didn't. She didn't say anything though about me going out there bare-assed naked, and that's just what I did!" "Dario!" I said, getting ready to scold him for being in a situation where he could easily be caught by a neighbor or a delivery man or the gas meter-reader. As a big grin appeared on his face though, I realized what he'd just said. He waited out by the pool later than normal, buck naked and hoping that I would be home early. He stepped toward the kitchen, slowly allowing his white towel to drop to the floor, timing it perfectly so that it fell right as he grabbed my drink from my hand and took a big gulp of it for himself. He put the glass on the counted and took my hand, placed it squarely on his densely haired chest and rubbed my hand into the thick mat. I started to open my mouth to object and he leaned up to press his mouth up against mine. I felt his tongue invade my lips, tasted the vodka on his tongue and allowed myself to kiss him back. I continued raking my hands through his hairiness and realized that he was stroking my already-stiff cock, aching to be released fromt he confines of my suit slacks. I broke out long open-mouthed kiss and said "What are we doing here?" and he answered me with "Something we've both wanted for a long time. Don't deny it dad. I saw you watching me from the window yesterday. And I saw how you couldn't keep your eyes off me at dinner last night too. Am I right?" I started to stutter and stammer and then looked right at him and said "Of course you're right you arrogant little son-of-a-bitch. For the last couple of years I've been denying how hot I am for your hot hairy little body! Damn I wish I looked like this!" I said, rubbing across his hairy chest again. "Yeah well I wish I had a horse-cock like yours!" he replied, admitting to me that he'd seen me getting out of the shower when he was thirteen and couldn't stop thinking about my almost foot-long monster. "So what are we going to do about this mutual admiration thing?" I asked him, and he suggested that we get me out of my clothes and see what happened. He didn't bother to wait for approval, working at the buttons on my shirt and damned near ripping the oxford-cloth from me. I was a swimmer back in high school and college so it wasn't like I wasn't athletic. In fact I try to get to the gym two or three times a week still, and have managed to maintain pretty good shape. Nothing like Dario, but not bad for a guy in his early forties. My muscles are long and lean, as compared to his stocky beefiness. Once he's got my shirt off he presses his rough, sandpapery face against my smooth chest, rubbing his bristly 36 hour growth of whisker against my skin and scraping it raw. The alternation between his bearded face and his tongue teasing and exciting the hell out of each of my nipples is almost driving me crazy. Dario eventually positions his mouth mid-way between my two pecs and begins to trail his tongue downward, ever so slowly and sensuously until he reaches my navel. There he digs the tip into my slight indentation and flicks the sensitive button of my belly. Much to my shock (and delight) he continues on down, then runs his tongue right along the top of my belt, barely touching my skin with his hot, moist tongue. By now he's on his knees in front of me, working on the zipper of my slacks. I knew I should stop him, put an end to this totally immoral act before it went any further. I almost did just that, but then glanced down and got a really good look at his incredibly furry butt and my will-power (and possibly my soul) went straight to hell. With one hard tug he pulled my expensive slacks down to my knees, then hooked his thumbs into my silk briefs and literally ripped them away from me. "Oh shi-i-it!" he said, reacting to the sight of my already hard cock as it flopped out from the confines of the underwear. He wrapped one hand, and then the other, around the huge shaft of it and squeezed it gently allowing the blood to engorge the pulsing head of my dick. He didn't gobble me down immediately, instead he licked and kissed and flicked his tongue across my piss-slit, driving me wild with his stimulation. I began oozing out pre-cum almost immediately and then Dario went to work running his tongue and lips all the way up and down the near-foot long shaft. Somehow I managed to remove my shoes and stepped out of my pants. The silk underwear had already been tossed off into the corner so we were suddenly both completely naked.....me bare-assed and him "bear-assed". I was 42 years old and had never had my cock sucked. Can you believe that? In twenty years of marriage it was something my up-tight wife and I had never done. Needless to say, I didn't last long once Dario wrapped his lips around my swollen head and somehow managed to take all but the last inch or so of my whole cock down his throat. I felt the muscles deep down in his throat massaging the head of my penis and I couldn't believe how great it felt. I wanted him to stop, and I wanted him to keep going. Common sense, decency and social propriety took a back seat to my lusty passion as I felt my balls draw up close and explode their pent-up load into my son's mouth. It may have been my first time at this, but obviously Dario knew what he was doing because he started gulping like mad, swallowing furiously to get every last drop of my jettisoning ejaculation. I can't imagine how he was able to take it all without choking -- or drowning. He drained me completely, not a drop left for him to suck out of my oversized organ. "Oh wow!" he said, finally allowing my spent cock to slip out of his mouth. He stood up and stretched on his toes to reach my mouth, again thrusting his tongue deep between my lips. I tasted the salty-sweet flavor of my own come in his mouth and I have to admit that I sort of dug it....perhaps because it was my own spunk I was tasting. I wrapped my arms around him, felt the muscles on his broad back and moved lower to touch the patch of hair on his lower back, just above a little white line where the strap of his thong bikini prevented him from tanning. I moved down lower and put a hand on each of his hairy buns, squeezed them lightly and pulled him closer to me so that I could feel his hard cock against me. Dario wasn't quite so well endowed as me, at least not in length. Still, his 9 incher was definitely a little bit thicker than my own hefty meat, and I couldn't imagine taking it in my mouth without choking. What the hell, I couldn't imagine not taking it. "Jesus dad, you're hard again!" he said to me -- as if I didn't already know that. "Shit yeah, that's what your hairy body does to me. I'm so fuckin' hot for you I can hardly God-damn stand it!" I told him, talking like I'd never done before, even in the most brutal of business meetings with real ass-holes across the board-room table from me. I licked his face like a puppy might do his master, all the time raking through the incredible forest of dark curls that completely blanketed his front. I extended my tongue and he grabbed it with his mouth, licked it and then returned his for me. He was right. I was completely hard again, ready to go again. He knew it too, and started stroking my big mauler until I stopped him. "No, it's your turn to get off!" I said, and he insisted that I didn't have to do it. "I know I don't have to----but I want to!" I told him, moving my mouth from his face down to his neck and then making a deliberate journey down his lushly furry front. Between his neck and his crotch I think I tugged out more hair from his hairy body than I even have on mine. I knew I wouldn't be able to take him completely down my throat, but I was determined to accommodate as much as possible. His fat circumcised cock-head oozed out pre-cum that I found very pleasant to the taste. Where he'd sucked me in completely I took a different course of action, literally making love to his hard cock, concentrating on the head rather than attempting the impossible job of swallowing it. Not that he was so big, but remember, I'd never even tried this before. I licked and kissed and stroked my lips and tongue up and down the shaft, feeling the thick veins that ran up and down it, realizing that in this way he was like me. I'd felt my own cock enough times to detect a similarity between him and me in that respect. "Oh yeah, suck my balls, take 'em in your mouth" he urged me, and I swirled one of his big egg-shaped testicles in my mouth. The dense pubic bush tickled my face but the smell was wonderful. I recognized the aroma of his soap as I drew in deep breaths, mostly the result of the intense arousal caused by making oral love to my own son. I grabbed both of his balls and pulled on them, yanking them down as low as possible until he groaned somewhat. "You like that kid, you like me tugging on your balls like that?" I asked him, surprised at the sound of my own voice. "Oh yeah, I can't hold it! I'm gonna' come!" he warned me, and I felt the first blast from his cock spew against my face. It was hot and slimy and kept on and on and on until I could feel it dribbling down my face onto my chest and the kitchen floor beneath us. Round two was complete and we were just getting started! We stood there in the kitchen kissing for a good long time. I had no idea that making out with another guy could be such a turn-on, but I'm sure part of it had to do with the fact that this particular guy was my own kid. He kept rubbing his hairy leg against mine, exciting the hell out of me with each stroke of his furry thigh. "Let's go to my room" he said, and I suggested instead that we go to the big king-sized bed in the master suite. "Oh yeah, let's!" he said, and I realized that maybe he'd been playing it safe by suggesting that we continue our totally taboo relationship somewhere other than the bed I shared with his mother. Oddly though, the idea of carrying on to the next level of illicit sex in my own bed made it all the more exciting and I said I'd prefer my room rather than his water-bed. "Okay dad, it's your call!" he said, and I grabbed the vodka bottle as we headed down the hallway to the wing of the house where the bedrooms were. We walked side-by-side and I saw our reflection in the mirror at the end of the hall where his bedroom went off to the right and our to the left. The image in the mirror looked pretty hot, with both of us now naked (his towel and my clothes having been left in the kitchen) and both of our cocks bobbing up and down. Of course mine bobbed a bit more than his, but the sight of his hairy "bear" body next to mine got me all excited once more and I watched as my near-foot of penis began to stiffen again. He saw it too, and I saw his grin in the reflection of the glass. "Damn, you are one horny son-of-a-bitch!" he said, and I slapped his ass and said "Hey's that's no way to talk to your father!". Evidently my slight little spank had an effect on him because he leapt to a full erection immediately. "Just who the hell's the horny son-of-a-bitch?" I asked him, and we stopped for a moment in the middle of the hallway to share yet another long open-mouthed kiss. Once in the bedroom we lay down on the bed and I started my oral exploration of his furry front, running my face through the thick curls of dark hair on his chest and my hands up and down his arms. He was so heavily blanketed that it was impossible to see his nipples beneath the dense growth but the instant my mouth touched them they popped to attention and I could feel them getting big and hard. "Christ you're fantastic!" I said, marveling at the feel of the coarse hairs beneath my mouth and lips and face and hands. "Roll over!" I said, and he did, giving me a great close-up look at the hairiest butt I've ever seen. No shit, Dario's ass looks like he's wearing a pair of black wool pants that's how fucking hairy he is. I leaned forward and ran my tongue across his "beary" buns and realized that I was intoxicated not only by the texture but also the smell. Remember, he'd just climbed out of the shower as I got home and the fresh soapy aroma was driving me wild --but not so wild as the overall feel of his hairiness. I couldn't stop myself from running my hands over the surface, marveling at the feel of it, allowing my finger to slip into the almost grotesquely haired crack. Jesus, from the kitchen window out to the pool I'd seen this dark furriness, but right up close it was phenomenal -- almost unbelievable! As I slipped my finger in he sort of raised his butt up to meet it, as if he were encouraging me to continue my exploration. I pulled back and he humped up even higher, making it totally clear that he didn't want me to stop. I ran my finger up and down the slit, then surprised myself by pulling my finger out and sniffing it. It smelled fresh and clean like the rest of his body and I leaned forward to press my face against his buns. My nose tickled from the extreme hairiness of his butt-cheeks and I couldn't stop myself. My tongue darted out and touched the surface of his skin, buried deep in the fur-pie of his ass-hole. Had anyone ever told me I'd be shoving my tongue up Dario's butt right there on my own bed I'd have imagined them to be crazy, but once I started doing it I couldn't imagine I would ever be able to stop. Somehow though, he had other ideas, a need to carry this whole scene even further. "Oh yeah, oh shit yeah dad. Now that you've got it all hot and wet I want to feel your finger way up my hole. C'mon fuck me with your middle finger man!" There was little resistance to my probing digit. It slipped in easily and I wriggled it back and forth while Dario squirmed and shoved himself back and up onto my finger. I pulled my finger out and smelled the aroma of that same thick gooey oil he used out at the pool to enhance his already glorious tan. It was as if he'd already lubed himself up, slicked his ass-hole up to prepare it for something like my finger .... or..... "Oh damn! I can't stand it any longer. Come on and lemme' have it. I want you to fuck me with your big hard cock. Ram it way up my horny hole pa!" he said, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Once again the voice of decency shouted out to me to put an end to this whole erotic experience, but I didn't listen to it. Instead I positioned myself right at the opening of his hairy butt and pressed forward. My cock was considerably bigger around than my finger, but somehow it went in almost as easily. Dario had been preparing himself for this moment! His ass-hole was like a hot, tight cunt, except it was a whole lot more exciting to me than fucking a cunt had ever been. I felt his furry buns against my legs as I slammed into him, listened to his filthy mouth as he urged me to fuck him like I'd never fucked anything before. It had only been half an hour or so since I'd exploded down his throat, but the extreme arousal of this whole thing put me over the edge right away and I saw the look of total ecstasy on his face as my huge load blasted against the walls of his rectum. We collapsed together on the bed. When I woke up I was a little disoriented, but it didn't take me long to realize that my face was buried in the hairy muff of Dario's arm-pit, and my cock was still buried to the hilt way up his beautiful tight ass-hole. I nuzzled his underarm and he work up, leaned forward to kiss me and the whole thing started again. "Oh yeah, I love the feel of your big horse-dick up my hole!" he said, and I started stroking in and out again. "Wait!" he said, explaining to me that he wanted it to last a long, LONG time this time. He reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed one of my shoes, pulled the lace from it and wrapped it around my balls pulling the string tight enough to cut off the flow of spunk from them to the shaft of my dick, but not so tight that the blood flow was stopped. To the contrary, it seemed like the length of my monstor meat was even bigger than it's normal 11+ inches. Of course we didn't take the time to go get a ruler, but as I started fucking him again I could feel that I was penetrating him deeper than before. The air-conditioning was working fine, but our physical exertion caused both of us to sweat like crazy, soaking the bed and Dario's extremely hairy body with perspiration that wouldn't quit. It somehow helped us as we rubbed against one another, and (just like I'd noticed when he was out by the pool) the dampness seemed to make his hairiness all the more noticeable. We went at it like fucking animals in heat for nearly three hours before he finally tugged the shoe-lace off my tortured balls and I let loose with what was for sure the biggest load of my life. This time he shouted out as I slammed into him, filled him with my spunk and bit his shoulder hard enough to draw blood as I climaxed into him. We both fell asleep then. (to be continued!) ***about the author. D.B. Reed is a writer of erotic male literature who draws his story lines from fantasy, from accounts by other accounts or from personal experience.