Date: Wed, 15 Feb 2017 18:15:43 +1100 From: Taylor Foxx [email protected] Subject: The Mistake Text Message 5
I spoke to a lot of people about whether I should keep this story going or not. I decided to keep it going since so many people liked it. But since I'm doing this for free...how about giving back by buying my novel? Or pirate it and write me a review!
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As I watched my sperm rain down on my son, I suddenly found myself giggling. Something about the situation was funny to me. Perhaps it was the comically loud sound of my sperm splattering across the duct tape over his mouth. Maybe it was the snorting, heavy breathing noises he was making in his struggle. Or maybe it was just the rush of endorphins and serotonin from my orgasm. In any event, my chuckle didn't even seem to phase my son, who was no doubt drowning in the scent of my cum.
As my orgasm subsided, so did my case of the giggles, and I fell silent as I shook out the last few droplets of sperm on to my son's thrashing face. Even in the dim lights, I could make out the whites of his wide eyes and he stared up and watched the very last bit of my seed dribble down the cleave of my head and onto the tip of his nose.
I paused for a moment there, staring down into his eyes. There was so many emotions swimming around in my son's gaze. I recognized them all from his childhood. The look of desperation, not unlike when he would beg for an extra cookie after dinner. The look of anger, like when I would make him clean up his toys and go to bed. The look of shock, like when he would catch me giving a smooch or a pinch on the ass.
But as I stared down at him, my cock softening over his face, I saw another emotion I hadn't been expected. Sadness. It reminded me so much of the look he gave me when I explained that his hamster had "escaped the cage". It was the look he had when he told me about a new kid at school who had pushed him down on the playground.
I flopped down onto the bed, suddenly feeling intense guilt. It suddenly hit me like a freight train what I had been doing. Not the obscenity of it all--I'd come to grips with that and decided to ignore it.
No, what got me was what I had been doing to this poor kid. I'd turned his life upside down with a stupid mistake text message. And instead of apologizing or listening to him, I took advantage of him. I took what I thought was mine, and in the process, I'd caused my son intense pain.
I lay there, rolling this over in my mind, as I listened to my son fall asleep. Several times I almost took the tape off his mouth, but I still wasn't ready to give up the game. We'd come this far.
It was time to give him what he wanted--what he needed. I couldn't believe it, but I was going to feed my only son a load of my cum. But first, I needed to know more information. I needed to know everything my son thought and wanted. It was time for an interview.
I woke up in the orange light of sunrise. I lay there for a moment, staring at the white, stuccoed ceiling of the hotel room.
I could still smell it. His scent. The smell of the liquid my father created in his testicles. The odor of the subastance that brought me to existance.
I could smell it because it had dried and crusted on my face. I could feel the flakes of my father's seed pulling against my cheeks as the tears streamed down.
Eventually, I stopped caring about how I got there, or what my father and I had done. I felt base, animalistic. I was only able to focus on the cum that's was drying on my face, the substance I wanted so desperately to swallow - for whatever reason. I didn't care anymore.
I was about to break into wracking sobs when I heard a quiet "ahem" from the foot of the bed. Suddenly I remembered that I wasn't alone in that hotel room, with my brothers and sisters drying on my face. No, I was there with the man who put them there. The only man who could do that--my dad.
Slowly I scooched upwards on the bed. As I did, I locked eyes with Dad, who was sitting at the end of the bed in the cheap hotel chair.
He was wearing one of his the ugly bathrobes the hotel had hanging up when we arrived, though he wasn't even attempting to keep it closed. I couldn't even see the waist tie, as he leaned back in the chair, allowing the robe to act more as a frame for his naked body than an actual article of clothing.
My eyes quickly dragged down to the my father's crotch, and I felt my pulse beating in my neck as I saw what I knew would be there--a raging, angry hard on. It stood up rigid and straight on its own, pulsating slowly. A hard on that said it was already boiling up another load of the most precious substance on the planet.
At least to me.
All was silent in the room, just the hum of the air conditioner running. But as I stared, unable to look away, Dad slowly moved his hand down to his magnificent cock and began to stroke.
My boy didn't look me in the eye the entire conversation. He kept his eyes trained on my meat, which didn't surprise me anymore. In some ways, it was better than eye contact. After all, my meat and what it meant for him was the subject of conversation.
I let him watch me stroke for a few minutes, knowing it had a hypnotic effect on him--especially with the lack of sleep and the duct tape still over his mouth.
Finally I broke the silence.
"I'm going to take the tape off your mouth, and we're going to have an honest conversation, kiddo." I tried to sound as stern as I could, but the fact that this conversation was actually happening had me on edge. And I was litereally on the edge of another orgasm, so I guess it was turning me on as well.
I managed to keep my orgasm at bay even as I watched my son nod slowly.
"If you scream or freak out, or even refuse to answer a question, the tape goes back on. And don't bother trying to lie to me, son," I said, tracing my thumb around my cockhead. "I can always tell when you lie."
When he nodded again, I stood up to remove the tape.
Once he caught his breath a bit, I knew he was ready. The tension in the air must have queued him off that this was different--this wasn't just me teasing him with my cock, driving him crazy with my balls. This was a breaking point. A new step...one I wasn't even sure I wanted to take until I came on his face.
"I want to hear your side of the story. Start at the begging. When did you start to obsess about your old man's cock?"
The words hung there in the air for what felt like a century. It was the first time either of us had acknowledged what was going on out loud, without a text message or mask of ignorance between us. Finally, I had acknowledged that which had taken over my son's life for the last few weeks.
By opening up the air like that, the tension in the room lifted some, and I actually saw my boy relax on his knees. I couldn't help but notice his smooth, young cock was rock hard and dripping onto the sheets below him. Jeeze, he really had it bad.
"Honest, Dad, it didn't start until I saw that text message. The first one. But...I...I mean I don't know how I hadn't noticed before, because I was instantly hooked. As soon as I saw...it--"
"Not it,'" I barked at him, suddenly flaring up in anger. "Cum. Jizz. Sperm. Daddy Milk. Seed. Cock snot. There are hundreds of names you could use to describe what you want better thanit.' If you want it, show my cum
the respect it deserves."
I watched my boy's bottom lip tremble in time with the pulsing cock. I hoped he recognized the tone in my voice...the one from...
...my childhood. I'd recognize that tone anywhere. Even now, as a teenager, I couldn't resist it. The sound of expectation, the threat of disappointment in my father's voice had always snapped me into line, and now was no difference.
I took a deep breath and focused in on the piss slit of my father's cock, which was now glistening with a drop of precum. My stomach growled.
"As soon as I saw your jizz, Dad, I knew I wanted it. No, needed it. As soon as I saw the first drop of your sperm leave those cock lips, dad, it became my ultimate obsession. School, friends, my relationship with you...nothing else mattered, because I needed my dad's cock juice."
I paused, noticing my father's cock twitch. He was still mostly jerking the base and shaft of his cock, giving me an unadulterated view of the leaking head. I was thankful for that, becasue it gave me something to focus on. I knew if I met my dad's eyes, I would freak out, lose control. But his cock head helped me speak openly.
"What do you mean when you say you `needed it,?'" my dad asked. His voice was softer, still firm, but not as threatening as before. Our conversation was starting to flow....god, how did we get here? "Tell me exactly what it is you want to do with my cum, son."
Again I took a deep breath and honed in on my father's pisslit, which was now glistening from the precum waterfall that had begun.
"I'm not sure, Dad. I..."
My dad cleared his throat, which was all I needed to know I was going off track again.
"Ingest it," I said quickly. "I don't know how or why, but I want it--your sperm--inside my body."
"How?" Dad asked. "How do you want it to get there?" As he said this he stood up and took a step toward the bed. I inched forward as much as I could.
"I...haven't thought that far, Dad. It's more like, I just NEED it inside me. I need the cum that made me inside my body. I guess...I guess swallowing it would make the most sense?"
Dad walked closer, and I crouched forward, so his cock was face level. It was less than a foot away from my face now, bobbing, leaking precum down to the floor.
"Oh really. What else?"
Dad's cock is now just a few inches from my lips. I want to leap out, but I know I can't.
"Well, I've thought about just letting your cum absorb onto my skin. Like letting it dry and not washing it off...but I don't know if that would work. And um...other ways."
Surprisingly, my dad doesn't ask for more information, which is a relief. I was about to say something I thought I might regret. Instead, he surprises me with a question.
"Do you think you've proven you deserve it?"
I'm crosseyed now, staring at the cock in front of me. I'm about to answer when I feel a hand on my chin, and despite my best efforts, Dad cranes my head upwward. I'm forced to look him in the eye.
I stare down into my son's eyes. I was nervous to make eye contact, not sure I wanted to see this. But hearing his words, knowing how serious he was, I wanted to see those baby blues as I told him what I was planning.
I'm not sure if he was closer to tears or just exhausted, but his eyes were wet, bloodshot. He looked exhausted, and yet, so hungry.
"Answer me," I said firmly.
"I-I do, Dad. I think I've waited long enough."
I let his words hang in the air then, jerking my cock obscenely in his face. Then I moved forward just a few centimeters, until my cock made contact with his lips. We both paused there, unmoving, for what felt like hours but was probably only a few seconds.
"Really? I don't think you have.
And with that, I slowly pulled my cock away from my boy's lips, letting just the tiniest string of precum stretch between his upper lip and my cock head, until it broke. I had to stifle a laugh when I saw how quickly and hungrily he licked his lips, even while staring into my eyes.
"So here's how this is going to work. We're gonna pack up our things and get out of here, head back home. I'm gonna shower first, and when I leave here to go to the shower, we're back to not talking about this. But now we both know what you want, and what you think you deserve. There's no going back from that."
My son was still staring into my eyes, still sucking on his top lip, but I could tell he understood. He was so damn attentive.
"At some point, I"m going to text you with a command and a deadline. If you follow my orders by the deadline, you'll get one step closer to what you want. Miss the deadline, and it's over. Got it?"
My son's eyes slowly moved back down to my cock, then back up to mine.
"Got it," he said, his voice hoarse.
And with that, I slapped my cock on my son's face one last time, and then headed to the shower. This was going to be fun.
Like this story! Show your support: Read my novel: Search for "The Boy Next Door" by Taylor Foxx on Amazon or Google.
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You can find versions of this story WITH PICTURES on my blog:
I love hearing from fans, so if you like this and want more, message via
Tumblr or at:
Kik: TaylorFoxxAuthor
Email: [email protected]