Date: Mon, 7 Sep 2015 13:21:30 +0000 (UTC)
From: a4f101@yahoo.com
Subject: His Midlife Crisis

Greetings, dudes. Been stroking my dick to the amazing stories on Nifty
since 1999, so I figured it was about time to do my part. I've been writing
dirty family stories on my Tumblr – a4f101.tumblr.com – for a few
months now, and I'm sharing them here with you too. There's more there, too
– more stories, from me and my likeminded buds – so come check it
out. Hit the Story Time link at the top for more than 250 dirty tales, all
by me, with the pics that inspired them.

You can see this story, and the pic that inspired it, here:
http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/110096008779/

This story is an original work of fiction, copyright me 2015. I own it, and
all legal rights to it. If you're not of legal age in your jurisdiction to
be reading it, do us both a favor and come back to it when you are.

Love to hear from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. And hey – Nifty is an
incredible, free resource. Changed my life, and probably did the same for
you, this amazing treasure-trove of fantasies. If you can, please support
them with a donation – even just a few bucks. Nobody pays for porn
anymore, sure, and that's why we keep losing incredible resources like
Handjobs Magazine. Don't let the Nifty Archive be another. Somewhere out
there, a kid is just discovering this site. Having his world rocked, and
his dick raised. You and me, we were kids like that, once. Let's keep it
going, for them and for us.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

*****

He should have been on the train back to Connecticut hours ago. Instead,
he'd called his wife from the bar, feeding her some smooth lie of an excuse
about why he'd be staying in the city tonight, while I ran my hand up and
down the thick, long bulge along the inner thigh of his gray Zegna
trousers. A hot suit, on a hot man, the big, beefy, handsome ex-rugby
player exec giving the back of my thick young neck a deep squeeze as I
teased that big dick while he murmured those lies to his wife. Well,
technically his second wife, and from the way he talked about her, most
likely his second ex-wife before too much longer.

I didn't care, didn't feel guilty. I'd never liked the bitch anyway. Him
and me had history, ever since his first divorce, when I was a big, horny,
cock-hungry high school senior, playing club rugby with him on the weekends
before heading over to his apartment for some of the hottest, most intense,
cock-dripping sex I'd ever known. The man had taught me a lot, and over the
years, I'd spent a lot of time showing him how well I'd learned, and even
showing him a few new tricks too. Serious history between us. And not
counting his first marriage, probably the longest relationship either of us
had been in. Not exclusive, sure, but I liked to think of him as my primary
fuckbud. My main man.

He padded across the little studio apartment as I watched him from the bed,
just as naked as him, the sweat still cooling on my brawny bod as I watched
his fine thickness in motion. He'd been a hot young dude at my age, big and
strong, particularly that big round muscled ass, and now that he was 50, he
had a great layer of middle-aged padding all over him that just enhanced
the effect. Felt amazing to dig your fingers into. Gave him a certain sexy
jiggle as he walked naked. I was hotter for him than ever. Had certainly
showed him after that phone call to his idiot wife, when I'd hooked my
thick, hairy legs over those beefy shoulders of his and taken him to the
root in one quick, thick plunge while he slowly fed me his spit.

"You're my midlife crisis, kid," he'd growled while we fucked, and I
laughed at him between the moans he was determinedly fucking out of me.

"Oh yeah? Wedll I hope I'm this fuckin' lucky at 50, big guy," I panted
back. "Hot young stud to plow whenever I please, get all dirty and manly
and sweaty with."

"Yeah?" he grinned, switching up the pace to long-dick me, teasing me with
that big uncut piece of his. "Even like this? Fuck your own kid? Your own
boy?"

I growled with lust, curled up to kiss him hard, wrestling him around until
I was on top of him, riding my father's huge cock, the one he'd made me
with. Making him moan now, as his paws roamed over the rolling beef of my
powerful chest, abs, thighs.

"Fuck yeah I would," I moaned. "Make a son of my own, bring him up like you
did, get real close with him in his teens. Fuck my own big boy. Fall in
love with him. Be his daddy lover. Just like you. Like kinky father, like
kinky son."

This kind of talk drove him nuts, drove us both nuts. We were hot for each
other as men anyway, but even hotter for the taboo of it. The heat of our
incestuous lust, and even more, how it had evolved, from lust to something
bigger. Deeper. Even hotter. The point where our traditional love for each
other as father and son had crossed streams with our powerful, taboo lust,
and created something incredibly powerful, electric between us.

"That what this is, Slugger?" he panted. "We in love, big guy?"

I kissed him hard, milked that big cock with my tight, hairy hole, answered
him with my body and my tongue and my spit.

"You tell me, Dad," I grunted between noisy, sloppy kisses. "Ditch that
frosty little suburban bitch up there in Greenwich, and I'll show you. Rock
your fuckin' world every day, you big hunky fuck."

Now he was the one taking over, and we flipped again, the bed under serious
threat of collapse as he fucked me into the mattress, growling and spitting
lustily into my hungry mouth as an answer of his own.

"Yeah Dad, c'mon, you big kinky fuck," I egged him on, ready to come myself
and wanting to do it with him. "You and me, doing this, fucking taboo
incest couple. Daddy and son. Fuckin' boyfriends, stud. Fuckin' perfect..."

I wailed, feeling the unstoppable onrush of my orgasm, locking eyes with
him as I began fountaining thick, hot young cum from my burning cock.
Spewing it all over my rolling, sweat-shining muscles, spraying my meaty
pecs with it. The sight made him growl even deeper, his big muscles bulging
up, and I knew he was right there with me. One thrust, two, three, and I
could almost feel the spreading heat inside me. Our eyes stayed locked the
whole time, cycling between lust, release, and love. Understanding.

Afterwards, it was always smooth, tender, easy, laughing together as we
cooled off, touching each other like we'd done for almost a decade
now. Intimate. Connected. He looked thoughtful.

"You serious, with all that talk back there, Son?" he asked in that deep,
powerful voice of his. I grinned at him, giving him my own thoughtful
look. Heart racing suddenly, but I stayed outwardly cool. Just nodded.
Honestly, I'd fantasized about it since we'd started doing this, back when
I was 17. Just thinking about being with him like that... together all the
time, like a couple... it was enough to bone me up on its own. He saw that
now, and chuckled, climbing off the bed to go get us some water from the
tiny kitchen.

I watched him walk, the slow, beefy roll and quiver of that ass, fisting my
hardening cock slowly. Watched him survey my dumpy little Midtown studio
with a skeptical look. I didn't care - it was a place for me to sleep,
shit, shower, screw and store my gear. All a 25-year-old dude in
advertising really needed.

"This place is a fucking dump, kid," he said as he headed back to me. "We'd
need something much, much bigger. Better."

I grinned at him, heart racing all over again, as I got the implications.
He had a weird sense of humor sometimes, and it might take a minute to
figure out if he was fucking with me about this. But I was pretty sure he
wasn't, though I would probably need to fuck with him a bit in return to
know for sure. And that wasn't going to be a problem in the slightest.