Another one from the Vault…
“Well, make yourself at home,” I said. “It’s probably not as good as being at a hotel, but…”
“Are you kidding, bud?” he said, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “This is miles better. Besides, it saves the taxpayers a few bucks, and with an election coming up…”
“Hell, there’s no way you won’t get re-elected,” I chuckled. “I doubt they’d begrudge you a couple nights at a Hampton for a big conference.”
“Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice as his big mitt tightened on my shoulder again. “But even if they sprung for the Hilton, I think I’d rather be here.”
I was glad to have him. I’d been down here in Florida just a few months, and didn’t really know anybody but my coworkers down at the station. When I heard he was coming down for the big law enforcement expo, I jumped at the chance to put him up in my guest room. I’d missed the big guy, and it was good to crack open a couple of beers and catch up on things back home in Virginia, and tell him some of the crazy stories about being a State Trooper down here in bugshit-crazy land. We were rolling with laughter before long, and it just felt real good inside, having him back around.
He was looking just as good as ever, his blond hair still thick and full, even if it was a little more silvery than it used to be, cut high and tight the way he’d worn it for as long as I could remember. Looked like he was still hitting the gym just as hard, his shoulders and chest just as big and muscle-swollen as ever, his thighs thick and powerful in his jeans. He might have been 50, but he sure didn’t look it. I hoped I’d be able to say the same when I got to his age, for sure.
“Well, if you ain’t got plans, I might get out of these clothes and get comfy, bud,” he said after our second round of beers.
“Go right ahead, sir,” I said, showing him where the bathroom was before heading back to the living room. I had tomorrow off, and was thinking real hard about another beer. Thinking real hard about him, too.
I choked a little on that third beer when he strolled back into the room ten minutes later, absolutely bareass-naked, that half-grin on his face as I spluttered and coughed. Fuck, he looked even better than I remembered. His belly had that little bit of middle-aged swell even the fittest man gets, but it looked damn good on him, as good as the thick blond hairs that curled over his big, mounded pecs and the still-prominent bulges of his abs. His ass was still high, tight and thick, dimpling deeply as he walked back to the couch, that big ol’ dick of his swinging comfortably between his powerful thighs.
“Told you I was gettin’ comfy, son,” he said with that twinkle in his eye. Then he reached for my beer and took a long pull on it.
I just stared up at him, beginning to throw a major bone in my shorts as I stared up at his awesome form. Never failed – seeing my Dad like this always did this to me, had since I was 16 or so, when we’d first gotten naked together for some real serious man-time.
“Another good reason not to go to a hotel,” he said in that low, deep voice. “I get to spend some quality time with my boy again, nobody to disturb us.”
I was a big guy in my own right, big and blond just like him, but Dad pulled me up out of the couch effortlessly, up and into his big arms, his head already angling inwards, breath warm on my face, and my lips were parting automatically to meet him. I didn’t even have to think about it, I just went with it, and when that big, beer-tasting tongue of his slid comfortably and easily inside my mouth, I moaned with lust and gratitude and relief.
“Missed you, Chris,” he said quietly when we parted, his eyes on mine as his big hands rubbed my back.
“Missed you too, sir,” I murmured, leaning in to inhale his unique scent, feeling it rush through my nostrils, into my lungs, making my whole body buzz with the intense, erotic familiarity of it. Feeling not alone for the first time since I’d come to Florida. Yeah, I was a big guy, a big bad State Trooper, I wasn’t supposed to feel like that, sure. But I did. I wasn’t ashamed to say I missed my father, especially with a bond as deep and secret as we had with each other.
Dad’s thick fingers chucked my chin, lifting it back up, and we were kissing again, deep and slow and warm and wet. His tongue was like an old friend, warm and familiar, and the way he grunted into my mouth and cradled my own blond buzzcut head as we slow-danced with our tongues, I could tell he was enjoying the same sensations I was. His other hand trailed down my front, over my pecs, down my stomach to the solid, throbbing bulge in my shorts, then gripped it gently and stroked it, making me leak into my shorts and moan into his mouth.
“Fuck yeah, son,” he murmured against my lips. “Still hard for Daddy, huh bud?”
“Fuck yes I am, sir,” I half-panted. And in the moment, even though I was 6’1 and a good 220lbs of trooper beef, I felt like a kid again, cradled in his big arms and completely awestruck by the man.
“That’s my boy,” he grinned, and kissed me some more.
Dad’s hand stroked the big curve of my ass as I led him to my bedroom, staying there as he tugged my T-shirt up and off me, my big arms raised obediently like a kid’s, and then unbuttoned my cargo shorts. Then he had a hand on my ass and the other stroking the tent in my boxer briefs, making me whimper into his searching, kissing mouth as I suckled on his fat, wet tongue. Then both of his hands were inside my shorts, pushing them down and off, and there we were at last, two big, blond men, naked and throbbing for each other as we embraced.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, running one hand up the muscles of my stomach to the big plates of my pecs, starting to get a nice dusting of crisp blond fur like his. “You’re finer than ever, Troop.”
I returned the favor, running my hands over the thick, powerful swells of beef that made up his torso, exploring him like I had since I was a horny teenager. It had been too long, but then, it always was. I leaned in to kiss each big, crisp-furred pec, then worked my way down to first one nipple, then the other, running my tongue over each stiff, warm peak, enclosing it in my mouth and sucking as I tongue-flicked the nub. I used to love opening his uniform shirt and doing this while his big paw slid inside the back of my baseball uniform pants to cup my muscular young ass, whispering the same husky words of encouragement he was now. Some things never changed, no matter how much bigger or older we got.
My hand found its way to the pulsing thickness of his cock, as big and thick as the rest of his epic body, and I slow-jacked it, savoring the steely warmth of it as I sucked on each of his thick nips. But I wanted more, needed more, and inevitably I sank to my knees before his big, towering form, his hands caressing my buzzed head as I inhaled the manly musk of his cock, running my nose along it like it was a fine cigar. Following it with my tongue, moaning at the salty, manly taste of him, before playing my tongue around the underside of his cockhead as he moaned and stared down into my eyes.
“Yeah, Troop,” he murmured, and that old nickname from my childhood just added to the intensity of all this. “You really missed your Daddy, huh big guy?”
Nobody else ever talked to me like this, and nobody else got their cock sucked to the root like I did to him. I’d gotten to the point over the years where I could take him all the way down with minimal fuss, and I was damn proud of that. Sheriff Tom Yates was fucking hung, and I’d taken the lessons I’d learned in high school with him to college, honing them on lesser men, honing them for him. It was kind of a kick – I knew exactly how I looked in my state trooper’s uniform, big and blond and all business, approaching some car I’d pulled over, and I knew the kind of anxious nerves that set off in civilians. But if they could see me now, like this, on my knees with my lips stretched around my own father’s cock, drooling my spit down his shaft, my eyes worshipful and watery as I played my hands up his thick thighs, over the muscled swell of his stomach…
“Ease up, big guy,” Dad groaned eventually, pulling my head off of him just as that unique mineral taste of his precum was starting to fill my mouth. “You’re not the only one who’s missed doing that, y’know.”
He winked at me as I stood up, wiping the spit from my lips, and gave me a quick, but deep kiss before pushing me back on my bed. I landed on it with a thump, and we both laughed, before he licked his lips and set his intense gaze on the towering, precum-dripping hardness of my own big trooper dick. He crouched down between my thighs, pushing them apart and stroking up and down the long, thick, blond-furred muscles of them, before taking my unit in one hand, running his wide, wet tongue up my shaft, and then swallowing me slowly, wetly, noisily to the root.
“Oh fuck sir,” I moaned, clutching his handsome, silvery-blond head. “So fuckin’ good…”
He winked at me again, then hummed around the length of me, sending a deep buzz down to my balls and into my prostate. He knew how that got to me, the big hunky bastard, and I couldn’t help but laugh and moan and shiver all over as he kept it up.
“Just as good as ever, Dad,” I panted. “You been practicing on some fresh young deputy meat, big guy?”
His big blue eyes locked on mine as he grunted around my shaft, and I knew he’d have a story or two to tell me later on, in the afterglow. I loved hearing about his exploits on the side. I was looking forward to telling him a few of my own. Like the two frat boys on their way to Spring Break in a Wrangler practically fogged with weed smoke, who’d worked together to suck their way out of one of the tickets I’d planned on writing them, and gone even further to get out of the speeding ticket… but that was a story for later.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum if you don’t watch out, Dad,” I moaned, and he pulled up off my cock with an audible pop, slurping up the excess spit dripping from his lips as he ran one big mitt up the muscles of my torso to tweak my nip.
“Can’t have that, big guy,” he growled. “Not yet, anyway.”
And then with another wink, he pushed my thighs even further apart, gave my balls a long, slow bath, then buried his face underneath them. I lifted my hips automatically, moaning as his big, wet tongue lapped its way into the hairy depths of my crack, directly onto the tingling knot of my pucker. He dug and licked and sucked and probed, pushed, opening me up like the expert he was. It was pretty rare for me to get fucked, now that I didn’t live in the same town as him anymore. But hell, if he was around, I’d turn bitch 24/7. No question, not with a tongue, and fingers, and a cock as talented as his. He’d copped all my cherries, and as far as I was concerned, I belonged to him in any way he wanted me, whenever he wanted me.
Fuck. Part of the reason why I’d left Virginia and moved all the way down here was to try and get some distance from thinking like that. To get out of my father’s powerful sexual pull. But here we were, right back at square one, and I wasn’t regretting it one damn bit. Not with his long, thick tongue trying to hungrily lick its way directly into my prostate. Not with his thick fingers strumming my tits and feeling up my big young muscles. Not with my cock practically bouncing with horny, liquid heat, drooling precum all over the fur on my stomach.
“God damn,” he growled, pulling his sweaty face free from my depths. He stood up, fisting his big sheriff cock, the blunt head of it gleaming and wet, and I felt a deeper surge of lust power through me. “You got any rubbers, son?”
I curled up, sat forward, knocked his hand off of his cock and took him all the way to the root again, swallowing hard, basting his thick piece in son spit, pulling back until just the head was trapped between my lips, letting my spit drool down his shaft in long, dripping streams.
“For other guys,” I said when I came up off of him. “Not for you, Dad. Never for you.”
I fixed my eyes on his and leaned back, spreading my big thighs, heels up on the edge of the bed, tilting my hips up to show him the blond-furred moistness of my hole. I’d been hoping we might play when I heard he was coming, but even I was surprised at how easily my body took over, the muscle memory asserting itself, how quickly I was ready to bitch out for my own Dad. But I shouldn’t have been surprised, not really. It was who I was. It was what he’d made me.
“Fuck, son,” he growled, his eyes fixed on my hole, slicked up with his spit as he moved in, fisting that thick, spit-slicked cock of his. Our eyes met again as he pressed the head of it at the knot of muscle, and I relaxed and bore down and let him push it inside of me, pushing a deep grunt out of me as he thrust slowly into me. It had been a while, and it took a second to get used to him again, but after that, it was just like it had always been. Big, hard, throbbing, and utterly fucking amazing. Perfect.
He looked incredible, a fine sheen of sweat coating those big, beefy muscles of his as he fucked me, fucked me like I’d never grown up and left home and moved hundreds of miles away, like I was still that big blond high school junior fresh out of baseball practice and he was nailing me on the trunklid of his cruiser. I clutched at the beefy mass of his pecs, loving the way he growled and leaned in to kiss me, his hips pistoning those thick inches of paternal cock inside my willing hole.
“Can’t get this kind of hospitality at a hotel, Troop,” he panted, grinning at me, his sweat starting to rain all over my body, onto my outstretched tongue.
“Sure,” I grunted between thrusts. “But then… not so easy… to bring your… lawman fuckbuds… back with you…”
“Says who, son?” he grinned. “Room for two in that spare bed of yours, right?”
I just moaned and nodded, thinking of the sight of him plowing some fresh young lawman tail. Or another big, beefy mature stud like him. Right there in my guest bedroom. Maybe while I watched…
“And looks like there’s maybe room for three in this bed, Troop,” he grunted, leaning in to feed me his tongue for a quick, deep instant. “Maybe you and me can do a little networking together…”
“Oh fuck!” I hollered, and just like that, I was coming, my cock spurting jet after jet of hot white cum up the clenching muscles of my stomach.
“Fuck yeah, Troop,” he growled, clapping his paws on my thick pecs and squeezing as he grunted, growled, and unleashed a torrent of his own lawman cum up inside of me.
“Holy shit, buddy,” he panted as he flopped down next to me on the wrecked sheets, both of us shiny with sweat and spit and my cum. “Guess that’s the drawback of not being in a hotel – gotta change your own sheets.”
“Fuck that,” I said, pushing into his beefy flank as he slid his thick arm lovingly around my neck, kissing the sweaty blond bristles on the side of my head. “I ain’t gonna change these sheets for a week. Want to just have your smell all over me, Dad.”
“Pig,” he chuckled, pulling my face up to his to kiss me, slow and deep and wet.
“Hey now, that kind of shit-talk’s for those dumbass civilians,” I said mock-sternly. “Besides, you love it, Sheriff.”
“I do,” he said, with that sexy grin of his. “At least your guest bed sheets will be clean. Unless you’d rather I-”
“No fuckin’ way, sir,” I said. “Like I told you when you said you were coming down here – ain’t no way you’re sleeping anywhere else, Dad.”
“Have to figure out a way to repay your hospitality, son,” he grinned, nuzzling my lips.
“You’ll figure something out, Sheriff,” I said, reaching for the rubbery, stick mass of his spent cock. “And the taxpayers will never have to know.”
The End
(Copyright A4F Tales 2021)
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