Date: Sat, 11 Nov 2023 20:25:30 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Slut Shorts Slut Shorts Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com) NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. This story does not contain incest but is heavy in its use of incest roleplay. Thanks to all the great work that the Nifty Archive does for the writers it publishes. Please consider supporting them with a donation. And take a second to drop a note to an author you enjoy - a compliment goes a long way. SLUT SHORTS by Bill Drake It was another of those nights. He was working late, I had made a quick and easy dinner for myself before plopping myself on the couch - muted playoffs hockey on the TV, laptop open to study for my CFA exam. I was planning to take it in two weeks. I almost didn't hear Dad come in, until he was behind me. "Hey Evan," he said, stepping up and placing his hands on my shoulder. Dad has strong hands, and they felt great on my tense delts. "Rangers behind already? Shit!" he said. I looked back over my shoulder. Dad was mostly business casual these days, but he looked hot as fuck. He'd been a hockey player himself in college, and still played in the rec leagues. 6'1" and a solid 210 at 44, he filled out his button down pretty well. He even had to get those special trousers with more room in the thighs and butt. "Yeah, fraid so," I said. "Long day, Dad?" He gave a nod and let out a sigh. "Pretty much." He let go of his light grip on my shoulders and gave me a pat. "I'm gonna shower up... maybe someone will score a fucking goal in the meantime." I laughed. "Don't hold your breath," I said. I watched a little of the game and went back to studying. Dad's not my father. He's not even my step dad. But Stephen Bennett and I had been dating for five years and had drifted pretty comfortably into where we were now. Heavy roleplay now colored our identies around the house. I was his Son, and Stephen was my Dad. At first he was responding to my kink, but eventually he began to own that identity himself, to embrace his Dadness with me and around me. He even took the lead in pushing the kink with me. It was hot in the bedroom, but we'd grown more comfortable with it even on normal nights like this. Or maybe it wasn't a normal night. When Dad walked in, he was half naked, the chest hair hair still damp from his shower and his thinning hair neatly gelled. But it was those fucking shorts that caught my attention. They were an orange pair of athletic shorts from his college days, with a black and white stripe on the sides and "Princeton" written in small lettering on the leg. I'd first seen them one day when Stephen had slipped them on for some work around the condo. He'd chuckled at how much they turned me on. But if those shorts had ever been a little loose on the guy, they fucking clung to his bigger, middle-aged muscle these days. Hugging Dad's thighs and molding to that meaty ex-hockey jock ass. Like they did now as Dad walked past me and sat on the couch next to me. He was acting dumb and waiting for my reaction, which was kind of adorable. I took a look at him, his attention on the TV. I knew he had to be pretty damn horny to want sex over the Rangers in the playoffs, but it had been a few days, and even that had been a quickie BJ swap before work. I was in some casual sweats, and I was boning up fast. One thing we'd had to negotiate as a couple was that my libido was stronger than his. Not that Stephen lacked sex drive, but well, I was 28 and maybe genetically swimming in hormones to begin with. Three days was way too long to go without sex and my cock was now rock hard and throbbing even at the idea. And yeah, those shorts were turning me the fuck on. Now that Dad was sitting, leaning forward a little as he watched the game, the hem rode up the thighs, showing off the man's hairy legs. I was hard wired for older guys for a million reasons, but legs like that were one of them. They were an older man's legs, a dad's legs. Even the curly-soft leg for a middle-aged man was different than a younger guy's. "In the fucking goal!" he swore at the TV. Maybe he wasn't playing dumb, maybe he was gonna put out in another hour, after the game was over. Jesus, now I wasn't sure I could wait that long. Dad had quickly learned how much those shorts did it for me. He'd wear them in the bedroom sometimes to spice things up. I'd branded them his "slut shorts" and the name stuck. Stephen Bennett wasn't remotely a submissive or anything - the man was too type-A and too much a control freak for that - and we were still negotiating my desire to top with his vers nature. But from time to time he'd get in a VERY bottomy mood with me. Those shorts were our little playful code. When Dad had them on, I was gonna get majorly laid. My laptop was open but completely ignored now as I stared at him. He had just enough of a normal look to him that made his muscular, in-shape body perfect to me. Dad had been married once, to a woman, and had one short relationship with a guy before me. But he had never done the gay scene and not really even done the apps that much. We'd met at an alumni event and had an immediate sexual chemistry. I'd just graduated from Princeton and was at my starter job in the city, and I had every bit of that D-1 jock look that Stephen went for. "Sorry to distract you, son," Dad now grinned, turning toward me during a commercial break and acknowledging the obvious. "But I figured you could use a study break." He leaned back and stretched his arms up, revealing thick, soft pit hair and flexing his chest muscles some. I could see Dad was throwing hard in those shorts, which added to my excitement. Their snugness meant that thick dad bone showed pretty clearly. I put my laptop on the coffee table and turned toward him, showing off my erection. "Fuck yes," I chuckled. Dad seemed to know where my interest lay and he turned toward me. "I think your cum washed out of these," he smirked. I'd started traveling for work some, and Dad always slipped these shorts into my bag if I had an overnight trip. Or he'd leave them out for me when he traveled. I'd jerk off into them while we FaceTimed, an incredible way to stay close to him. I wouldn't have to settle for that now. "You wanna suck my dick, Dad?" I asked. Sometimes crude and direct didn't work for Dad, but those shorts had given me permission. He got a hungry look in his eye. Miraculously, the Rangers were the last thing on his mind as he faced away from the TV and scooted over and down onto the floor in front of where I was sitting. His strong hands now pawed at my crotch. "My big boy need taking care of?" I had about an inch on Dad, which turned us both on. "Yeah," I croaked. Dad pulled my waistband over my hardon, then peeled my boxer briefs down to let me free. "That's a hard fucking cock," he grunted. I watched him look at it a second and enjoyed the feedback loop between my visible excitement and his appreciative stare. Then he leaned down and angled up my meat to start sucking me. I could see the thinning spot on the top of his head as he started swallowing, then bobbing on my cock, and the meaty shoulders and knotted back... and past that that amazing thick ass filling out those shorts. I'm pretty sure my dick spurted a healthy amount of pre into Dad's throat as he took me deeper. "Holy fuck, Dad!" I gasped. The man was taking me real fricking deep, all the way to the pubes. He wasn't always able to do this, at least not without tripping a defensive gag or two in the process of slowly willing himself to relax. No hesitation or gradual approach now. Dad was deep throating me, and showing off with long mouth strokes up my 7.5 inches to match the hungry descent down. Stephen must have been thinking about sex all day, he was just so keyed up now. I ran my hands along his strong back. I felt I could nut just having him give me head, and fast. And I would have loved that. But the slut shorts were on, and I was gonna take advantage of them. "Pull off, Dad," I urged. "Please." Dad had to catch his breath as he wiped his chin and lips. It had been a messier blow job than he'd like. Dad was real self conscious about that for some reason. I don't know why, the thick spit on his face turned me the fuck on. "Give me a second?" he asked, leaning back so I could see his hairy torso and that exec-handsome face. "Sure," I said. I leaned back and let my boner pulse, wet with his viscous saliva. On top of that I was leaking hard now. I worried, he was getting out of the mood, but he stood up and I could see that dad dick poking up his shorts. It was incredible how they fit, but barely. The fabric drew up tight against Dad's boner. He was already stepping in to rub my face into it. I grunted as I chewed and licked at that hard ridge in the fabric. Something about these shorts, and Dad in them, connected the jocks I went to college with the draw to a paternal figure. I wish I could have seen Dad wear these when he was 20, but I was also glad he was much older than me, that I wa seeing the shorts on him now. Dad was getting into how excited I was. Playfully he gripped the back of my head and guided me all over his own excited crotch. "That's it, Evan, buddy. See how horny you get your father." THIS had been a surprise. How much Stephen could run with the verbal. He'd been the one initially hesitant to do the roleplay, but now he was better at the spontaneous kink talk than me. I did my best to keep up. "Fuck yes," I hissed finally pulling off. "The dick that made me." That got a growl from the man. "Don't forget that, son," he hissed. Then I watched as he slid down the shorts, after he worked the elastic over the hard staff of his prick. I'd never get tired of seeing Stephen's dick. I considered it cosmic fate that nature had given us two cocks that looked pretty similar, as if we were related. Dad was medium-thick and pretty evenly thick up its length, with only a slight bend to the right, like mine. Even his balls seemed to be the size and shape like mine. I thought he was wanting some oral service himself, but his hand stopped my forward motion and even pushed me back a little, into the couch cushions. "Lean back, son," Dad said, his voice getting that deeper lusty quality. "Daddy needs a fuck." I looked up, horniness and maybe a little cockiness in my eye. I loved fucking Dad. If I had my way, I'd fuck him every day. But relationships aren't about getting your way all the time. That's OK, I was gonna have a hot piece of ex-hockey ass to tap now. Dad was already straddling my waist. In his worked up, power-bottom mode I didn't get to see nearly enough. His body felt warm, maybe a little damp from the shower still. He'd started wearing my actual father's cologne and had it on now, and the scent hit my nostrils like poppers. Next to his slut shorts, that smell was one of my big triggers. I was still mostly clothed, with a T-shirt on and sweatpants pulled down mid-thigh. But Dad wasn't gonna let me strip off. His lips met mine hungrily, and his hands gripped my neck to pull me into the liplock. I ran my hands along his leg fur, appreciating that strong muscle beneath. And yeah, I felt up that hockey-playing ass. Dad was now humping me, running his ass along my boner as we made out. He was usually too self conscious to do anything like this, anything so slutty. But he was all in now. I grunted into his mouth and pawed at every bit of daddy that I could. This had the sexual attraction and horniness of our first time having sex together, combined with the sexual chemistry we'd honed over the last few years. Dad knew I loved to eat him out, but he also knew he was too worked up to take slow tonight. I could feel the slickness of lube in his crack and against my prick now. I'd barely registered the implications of that before Dad broke the kiss and leaned back a little, just enough to be able to reach back and grab my prick and pull it up. He angled his hips up and adjusted his alignment. I watched, keeping still, letting him guide me in. Then I saw Dad's face get that succession of reactions to the penetration. At last there was that knowing smile he'd get when he'd gotten past the difficult part. "You glad to be back home, Baby boy?" he hissed. "Yes, sir," I growled. "You have no idea." I placed my hands on his outer thighs to feel his up and down motion. The feeling of his hole was snug and amazing. "I have a hunch," he replied. Getting more vigorous in his ride. He'd gone from 0 to 60 pretty fast. We were fucking. "My hot incest fucker." "Jesus," I said, amazed how Dad knew what to say to work me up. He'd been reading porn stories or something, because his imagination caught me off guard. Dad rode me and we kissed again. That was great, but Dad found the more upright seated position easier so he retreated to that. His hand was a little lubey now and that helped him stroke himself in time to his bouncing. I now met him half way, pushing my hips up into him in time to meet his own downward bounce. "I love fucking you, Dad. So much." His lips curled up. "Yeah, I know you do, son. Love your father's tight hole.... You've been working so hard, studying so hard... you deserve a treat... for being a good fucking boy." God Stephen knew how to get me there. My cock felt slicker from my precum and I was thrusting into him harder, taking over more than 50 percent of this fuck. "Yeah, I am," I replied. I wished I was actually better at the verbal, but I at least wanted to encourage Dad in this. "Your good son." "Yeah... you're gonna ace that exam... make your daddy proud." "Yessir!" I grunted. God he was getting me closer now. "Is that what you want, son? To make your Dad proud?" "I do sir," I replied. "So bad." The man's voice was getting more strained as he rode me, relishing the deep and hard penetration and what it was doing to his inner spot. "Proud... Just like when you won that golf scholarship.... Just like when you throw me one of those Big Boy fucks..." I thought his sex talk was for my benefit mostly, but I watched his face scrunch and then heard him let out a short, loud cry. And then Dad's dick started spray his seed all over me. Hard, hot, spray that landed in a thick ropes on my T-shirt, soaking it. "Oh fuck, Dad!" I cried, feeling my own cum hit me as I started seeding his tight ass. My hips stopped and his riding slowed down, until he rested in my lap momentarily, just enjoying that moment before it was time to climb off. "Thanks, Evan," he said. "I needed that." I watched with some disappointment as Dad got up, steadying his body before he found his discarded shorts and picked them up. "I'm gonna clean up, OK, buddy?" This was the thing we'd been working on. When we started I was his buddy, his big guy, his special dude during the sex act, but Evan afterwards. Now we'd learned to extend it afterward. Of not automatically switching back to our "real" selves. "Yeah," I said, patting his calf muscle as I leaned up. I saw the glob of dad sperm on his knuckle and impetuously decided to lick it off. Dad turned his hand to let me and chuckled a little. After I'd sampled his sperm, he patted me on the side of my head. "I love you, buddy," he said softly. "Love you, Dad," I replied. He went to shower, and I pulled my sweats back up over my lubed and spermy dong. I'd change in a bit, but for now, I relished being covered in my father's seed. And I was enjoying the moment of relaxation. The Rangers had scored one but were still behind. My laptop was in sleep mode, neglected. I probably wouldn't get much studying done tonight. Dad walked in, those shorts back on. He didn't play dumb this time. "I figured you'd have another in the tanks for later. But OK if I watch the game first?" "Wouldn't have it any other way, Dad," I said, putting my arm on the back of the couch as an invitation for him to sit close to me. He did and I enjoyed his warmth and more mature body next to mine. I threw hard again a couple of times during the rest of the game, just feeling him like that and seeing those shorts on him. But no need to rush things. I had my father right there next to me.