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Dinner Will Be Ready Soon

If love between a father and his son involves sex, should we be shocked?

Casey and Emma had been married for thirty years. He was twenty-eight and she was twenty-five when they tied the knot, and it had lasted for all these years, through ups and downs, thick and thin.

They had a daughter who, from age seven on, had been a handful. They’d never been able to control her. At the age of eighteen she had run away from home with a thirty-four-year-old man. That hadn’t lasted long, but she didn’t return home.

They knew she was in what is known as the sex trade, or perhaps industry. They didn’t know if she was a “porn star” or a high-priced call-girl. Or perhaps she turned tricks in some sleazy bar for drug money. They didn’t know, and they didn’t want to know. They’d written her off and never mentioned her, so that many of their acquaintances didn’t even know of her existence.

Six years after she was born Emma had given birth to a son. Branch was very different from his sister. He was quiet and kept to himself. As a small child he seldom cried, but neither did he often laugh. He didn’t complain or beg for toys they couldn’t afford.

He seemed content with what he was given. That covered toys, games, food, clothes and praise. His mother found him to be an odd child and never lavished him with affection.

Casey loved his son unconditionally and took Branch with him wherever he went that a child could go. As Branch grew his dad taught him to do all the things a dad should teach his son. Whether it was riding bicycles or skating, catching a football or pitching a baseball, swimming or water skiing, fishing or hunting, they had done it all by the time Branch had reached what is considered legal age.

Casey didn’t drink. He’d never liked the taste of beer or liquor, or the after effect. He didn’t prevent Branch from drinking, but it was one thing he didn’t teach him how to do. However, Branch followed his dad’s example and stayed away from alcohol, partly because he didn’t go to places like bars and taverns.

For all of his adult life Casey had worked in construction. For the past eight years he’d been the supervisor of a construction crew and at fifty-eight he was looking forward to retiring in just a few more years.

He worked hard, and had the body to prove it. He was tall and had a thick build, like a tree trunk. He wished he could lose the ten pounds he’d picked up a few years ago and hadn’t been able to drop.

Branch was a couple inches shorter than his dad, but shared the same body type. Even though he’d never done the kind of work his dad had, he was muscular. Casey had thought Branch might go into construction, but accepted his son’s decision to follow a different career path.

Branch had found a job transporting patients for a small medical center. He had become adept at loading wheelchair-bound patients in and out of the service van. He appeared to have an ability to make contact and interact with children with autism, and his constant demeanor of calmness made him much appreciated by the staff of the center.

The kitchen was the center of Emma’s life and where she spent most of her waking hours. She loved both cooking and baking, and did so not only for her family, but also for bake sales, church charities and neighbors who weren’t in a position to cook for themselves.

She also was able to maintain a clean house, do laundry, manage the household finances and keep everything running on schedule. Because of these talents, if she no longer found it appealing to engage in sexual activities with her husband, he accepted that as a part of the price he must pay for a stable home life.

Casey still loved his wife, and showed that affection regularly. When he came home from work he always stopped in the kitchen and gently took her arms in his large hands and softly kissed her on the forehead or cheek. Her hands were usually covered in flour or grease, her mind on what was in the oven, or about to go in. She’d advise him that he had just enough time to take a shower and rest for half an hour before dinner would be ready.

This Tuesday was like all the other days of the work-week. Casey pulled his truck into the driveway and coasted to a stop just before the garage doors. He got out and went through the back door into the mud room. He hung his hard-hat and dayglow vest on pegs that were there for that purpose.

He sat down and took off his shoes which were always covered with cement dust or mud. In his stocking feet he went into the kitchen and gave Emma one of his semi-hugs and a quick kiss.

“I’m running a little late,” she said. “You have plenty of time to take your shower and a nap. Dinner’ll be on the table in forty-five minutes.”

“Where’s Branch?” Casey asked, as he usually did.

Emma gave the usual and expected answer. “He’s up in his room.”

Casey went upstairs and to their bedroom. He took off his clothes and put the dirty and smelly ones into the dirty clothes hamper. Naked, he walked down the hall to the bath room.

He got in the shower and adjusted the water. He bathed his body, soaping up his armpits, his ass crack, his feet and washed between his legs. He spread lather over his chest and down his stomach to his large cock. He enjoyed the feeling of his soap-slicked fist massaging his cock.

He turned under the showerhead rinsing the suds from his body. He took one of the oversized towels Emma provided for him and dried all parts of his body. After applying deodorant he left the bathroom, but turned away from his room and went in the other direction to Branch’s room.

The door was partially open. He pushed it and stepped in, closing the door behind him. As he’d expected, his twenty-four-year-old son was lying across the bed, as naked as his father, his ass pointing toward the door.

Casey dropped to his knees and spread the cheeks of his son’s bubble butt and buried his face in the crack. He swathed Branch’s asshole with the flat of his tongue, then switched to probing it with his tongue’s tip. He heard Branch moan softly and drove his tongue in with more force.

He pulled his face out and with ease flipped Branch over. His son’s cock was a little shorter than his own, but fat and well formed. Casey encased it with his mouth and moved his head in a random pattern so that Branch’s cock was poking against his cheeks and throat and the roof of his mouth.

He hadn’t sucked on his son’s cock when they had first begun their sexual ritual six years ago. But lust had brought him to the point that he wanted all that his son had to offer, and this is where he was at this time.

He stood and pulled Branch up to a sitting position. Branch knew the routine, and knew he wanted what was to happen next. He leaned forward and opened his mouth wide so he could accept as much of his dad’s cock in his mouth as would fit.

Casey held his son’s head in both hands as he fucked his cock in and out of his son’s mouth. He’d pause and let Branch take over, moving his head back and forth, imitating the same fucking movements. They alternated, each one enjoying taking charge when it was his turn.

After several rounds of this, Casey would pull his cock out and once again flip branch over onto his stomach. He reached in the drawer of the nightstand without even looking. He knew where the plastic bottle was. He retrieved it and squirted some of the lubricant onto Branch’s asshole and some onto his cockhead.

Tossing the bottle back into the drawer he put the end of his cock against his son’s pucker and pushed, forcing it to open and allowing him to enter. He didn’t relent until his body was firmly pressing against Branch’s. He pulled back until his cock came completely out and then pushed it back in.

He did this six or eight times before beginning to fuck Branch’s ass slowly. After another ten minutes or so he pulled his cock back out again and once more flipped Branch over onto his back. He lifted his legs so that he could see the assaulted hole and reentered, starting slowly as he had been doing, but increasing his speed and the force of his thrusts.

He watched as his thrusts made Branch’s cock flop against his stomach. Branch grasped his cock and began to jack it as hard as his ass was being fucked. Perhaps another ten minutes passed when Casey pushed his son further across the bed and crawled on top of him, jamming his cock back in Branch’s ass.

As he pounded his cock in and out he pressed his open mouth against his son’s and they kissed passionately. Branch pulled his hand free from between their stomachs and Casey felt his son’s cock rubbing against his stomach with the friction of his movement.

As they both neared the moment of release their breathing became ragged, their moans muffled because they knew they couldn’t say the things they normally would. Casey felt his son’s warm cum escape and cover his stomach. His own cock erupted, sending shot after shot of his cum deep into his son’s gut.

As their supply of cum ran out and their breathing returned to normal Branch said, “I love you Dad.”

Casey kissed his son’s lips and echoed, “I love you too, son.”

He pulled his softened cock free from his son’s ass and got up. Branch got up from the bed and together they went to the bathroom. Taking a damp cloth Branch wiped his cum from his dad’s stomach and cleaned his dad’s cock.

Casey took the cloth and rinsed it out and then wiped Branch’s stomach and cock and turned him around, had him bend over and wiped clean his abused asshole.

When they were clean and dry they left the bathroom and each went to his bedroom to dress. They met at the top of the staircase and kissed again, and then went downstairs to sit down to a family dinner where they each talked about their day.

And this Tuesday was just like almost every other day of the week.


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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