A Life of Service

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

*****

"Oh, boy, that smells nice, son! Those ribeyes coming along nicely?"

Dad and I are out in the yard today, as we're hosting a barbecue for his friends on memorial day. I was assigned to the grill because he can't cook for dear life, and also because he has to busy himself with some last minute yard work. It's very important that I get these prime cuts right, because it's generally not a good idea to disappoint veterans on memorial day.

My dad was in the army for a good few years, and even went on 2 tours to Afghanistan. He only decided to leave because my mom passed away, essentially leaving me alone. He did what any brave soldier would, and come home to his grieving son, even going so far as to setting his own pain aside. Since then, we only had each other.

My mom came from a well-endowed family, and her parents were huge donors to military events. It's actually how they met, at an army ball. Although the estate she left was enough to allow my father and I to live without any worries, his hardworking and hands-on nature took over. He now owns a small business in landscaping.

I was sent to study abroad, in England, but now that I've graduated I actually don't know what I want to do with my life. So in my day-to-day life, I've only been running the household, trying to fill in mom's usual duties. Since I mostly spent my childhood with her, I also learned her skills in cooking, balancing the books, and filing taxes among other things.

"Medium-rare for everyone, right? Shouldn't your pals be here any minute, now?"

"Yeah and don't forget the barbecue sauce. Speaking of which, how about you cut me a slice so I can get a taste? All work and no food make Papa Jim a tired man."

"Sure thing, pops."

I flipped the one on the grill, and then went to cut a slice of the biggest meat - reserved for my father. I punched a fork into it, and walked over to feed my old man. He was standing with one hand on his hip, and another holding the shovel standing up.

"Here you go. What do you think?"

He let me feed him with the fork, and he closed his eyes and nodded his head.

"Oh, wow, that hits the spot. Good work, son. I'm proud of ya."

He tapped my right shoulder twice before returning to the yard work, finishing the last touches. Just then, the doorbell rang. Our guests for the evening are here.

"Shoot, all this work and I haven't showered. Can you handle them while I go upstairs and get cleaned up?"

"Of course, daddy-o. Not like I haven't done it before."

He reciprocated my smile, and tapped my shoulder again.

"Alright, good boy."

He put away the shovel, and immediately jogged upstairs to the shower. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, and couldn't help but notice the butt sweat on his shorts. My blood rushed, and my breathing intensified briefly, but I brushed aside that nasty thought. Sure, I love the smell of a good, sweaty man butt after it's been worked hard, but my own dad's?

"Coming!"

I rushed to answer the door. Upon opening, 4 men and their wives greeted me. Of the 8, 3 of the men are dad's friends, and 1 of the women he met at a joint base in the Middle East. Each couple brought some food with them, and I was hoping not a single one of them was a potato salad.

The first guy in line was Joe. Joe used to be an infantry leader with is own unit, but he too has since retired, and now has his own burger joint downtown. His larger build is reflective of his love of food, but his neatly trimmed facial hair and sideburns keep him a tidy man.

"Hey!" everyone chanted.

"Hey guys, come on in. Dad's just finished some yard work and he's upstairs getting cleaned up."

Just then, as if on cue, I heard him call from upstairs.

"Aiden! Get up here!"

There was no tone of anger in his call, but it sounded urgent.

"Shoot, okay. Beers are in the cooler next to the grill, some spirits in the fridge if you need them. Joe, can you handle the grill?"

"I sure can, sport. Go up there. Your daddy needs ya."

"Great, thanks."

I immediately rushed upstairs to see what's going on. I went into my parents' room - my dad's room now, to see that he's not in there. I realised that the carpet of the room was slightly wet with footsteps, and the bathroom door was slightly ajar.

"Dad? What's going on?"

"I think I forgot my towels. They're in the laundry, can you get them from me?"

"Sure thing. Everyone's here and I got Joe to handle the grill."

"Great, great, that's great. Hurry up, son!"

I rushed downstairs and came right back up with his freshly washed towels.

"Thanks, son."

When he walked out of the bathroom, his towel only covered his front end. I couldn't help but stare at his magnificent back as he walked over to the closet. Standing at 6'4", with bulky muscles and a tattoo on his left arm, here was my own father.

"Right, well, I'm gonna head back downstairs. Are you gonna shave your beard, as well?"

"Nah, I think I'll keep it. You go on down, I'll

ketchup

later. Hahah"

"Very funny, dad."

As I paced my way downstairs, I had a really hard time scrubbing off the image of my naked dad. So natural, so raw, like I've never seen him before. I know I like older guys, and I've had my fair share since I fucked Coach Steven in his office during senior year only days after I turned 18. My time in England also gave me a healthy dose of experience. So of all these guys, how come my dad left the strongest impression on me, despite all my experience?

I stopped halfway down the stairs to take deep breaths. Not like I was sporting a boner or anything, but I was worried it was going there. I think I'm gonna need to have a drink.

One of dad's other friend's - Steve - was in the kitchen, fetching something from the fridge.

"Hey, there it is. Hope you don't mind me starting out with some vodka shots. You want one, champ?"

"Sure, why the hell not."

I shrugged as he fetched another shot glass and poured away.

"That's the spirit! Pun unintended, of course."

"Gah, what is it with you dads and your dad jokes?"

"Ah, you'll understand someday. Here you go, champ."

Steve handed me my shot, before raising his glass.

"To world peace?"

"To world peace."

We clunked our glasses and downed the shot. Just then, I hear my dad coming down the steps. Steve turned his gaze to my dad, and was instantly jubilant.

"Jimmy boy! Come here you!"

Dad came and hugged his lifelong friend as if they didn't just go out to Joe's burger joint last weekend.

"Come on, let's go meet everyone."

With that, Steve put the shot glasses back in the sink, and the vodka bottle back in the fridge. As we walked out into the backyard, the heat from the vodka shot and the Georgian sun descended on our bodies. More warmth was exchanged as dad said hello to everyone.

As they conversed among themselves, I approached the grill - still manned by Joe - and told him I'd take over to allow him to join the party. Beer in one hand, he went over to hug my dad, too. I zoned out and focused more on the last cut.

With only little to go left, I put the ready ones on individual plates and the potatoes as well. Not forgetting the extra barbecue sauce for Joe. As I gave everyone their plates - with the already sliced one going to dad - I took the last cut off the grill and plated my own dinner.

I took my seat and started on my potatoes, but before I was able to get too comfortable, Joe's wife - Eileen - asked about me.

"So, Aiden, now that you've graduated, are you gonna get a job here in Atlanta?"

"I don't know yet, actually. I've just been helping out around the house with what I can, you know. Cooking, laundry, the books, taxes, all that stuff."

"Well, how about enlisting? Have you ever thought of that?"

I put my fork down, deep in thought, not knowing how to respond.

Truth be told, I have thought about enlisting. I really have, but after having grown up mostly without my dad, and having him at home now, just doesn't feel right. I was told I'd make a great recruit. Good physique, discipline, and strong mind to match.

Before I could respond, however, dad interjected.

"Now now, Eileen. If my boy wants to enlist, that'll be his choice. Let's not push him anywhere he doesn't wanna go to." He said with a slight wink.

I shrugged it off.

"Well, I suppose you shouldn't rush things. But remember, you ain't getting any younger!" she quipped.

"By the way, all that time in England, and you haven't brought any girl home?"

I couldn't help but laugh awkwardly, in a rather dismissive manner.

"I uh.. don't like girls, Eileen. Think we've established that."

Cold silence fell on the crowd.

"Oh, right." She pursed her lips and took a swig from her bottle.

"Well, if you ever change your mind.."

"Eileen, honey, sometimes you just need to let people be." Her husband came with a welcome interruption.

"I'm just saying, lots of pretty girls in here in Georgia."

The uncomfortable silence lingered yet again.

"How about I tell y'all about this customer I had the other day in my diner? Boy, she was one of those vegan types."

"Jeez, Joe, a vegan coming to your place?"

"Yeah! She said she was carrying the burden of saving the planet or something, I told her she know nothing about carrying burdens. I told her I used to carry the heaviest of loads during my time in the army, and I do it with my bare hands."

As Joe proceeded with his reminiscent tales, I couldn't help but slightly laugh to myself. Indeed everyone's familiar with Joe's stories about how he used to be the mule in his unit, often carrying extra load at his own will. I, however, am familiar with the other sort of load he likes to carry with him.

On a night just like this last year, I got to know Joe better than everyone would think. Not only did I lick, sniff, and eat his delicious bear ass, I also pounded the bulky, rotund man against the wall of our garage. It's been a secret between him and I, though I sometimes still hope we could do it again. I can tell he liked it as much as I did, probably because his sex life with Eileen is nonexistent.

I could feel the blood rush moving south. I'd love to get another whiff & taste of his delicious bear ass, but the odds of that ever happening again are slim to none. I brushed it off and chowed down on my dinner.

"Aiden, these steaks turned out great. Thank you, sweetie" said Rita, wife of Steve.

"I'll say. Say, Aiden, why don't you come work at my place? You got some skills at the grill, and my best boy Eduardo's leaving back to Puerto Rico in about 2 weeks. We could use some serious meat griller like you." Offered Joe.

"Thanks, Joe. I'll have to think about it. I gotta say, that's nice of you to offer. Maybe that'll give dad some spare time to try and find a new flame." I winked at my dad as I said it.

"Atta boy. In fact, why don't you come around tomorrow and see how the kitchen is usually run, so you can get a good feel of the place."

"Oh, I'm sure dad'll appreciate some alone time. Ain't that right, dad?"

Dad smirked and looked away.

"Just eat your dinner, kiddo."

"How does 10 am sound? We start preparations for lunch service around then, but you don't gotta stick around for the rush hour."

"Wouldn't miss it. Thanks, Joe."

The rest of the evening went by as expected. Drinks were had, stories and laughter shared. We went well into the night, until finally everyone got up, bade farewell, and went home.

As dad and I went to clean up, I couldn't help but going back to the conversation from earlier.

"Hey, dad?"

"Yeah, son?"

"I was serious. About earlier, I mean. I think it's a good idea for me to give you some space. You know, to find someone new."

Dad carefully put down the dish he was drying up.

"You know, son, why don't you let me worry about my love life and you worry about yours? I'll find someone new when you have."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think I'd like to see my son grow into his own man, before I can think about sharing my life with anybody else."

I finished scrubbing down the last dish of the night. All the tableware has been cleaned, too. His last sentence spoke of longing, perhaps for my late mother.

"Well, I'm still going to Joe's tomorrow. How about you? Any job to do tomorrow?"

"I think I got a morning run to some old lady's house a few blocks away. I can drop you off at Joe's on my way."

"Great."

I gave him the last dish to dry, and went off upstairs.

"Good night. I'll see you in the morning."

"Night, kiddo."

I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, trying to remove any meat that might've been stuck, and the alcohol breath before I sleep. As I did, I got to look at myself in the mirror. I couldn't help but notice how my features bear much resemblance with both my parents.

I have my father's eyes, and my mom's light brown hair. My height must've come from dad, as I stand only 3" shy from his height, a stark contrast to my mom's petite figure. I only have light body hair on my chest and ass, with a noticeable happy trail when I'm shirtless.

As I walked out of the bathroom and switched the hallway lights off, I made my way to bed. Upon lying down, I was actually thinking about what could happen tomorrow. I wanted to masturbate at the thought of nailing Joe in the cooler, but was too tired to finish the deed. I turned my bedroom lights off and went to sleep.

--

My phone woke me up at 7. I started my regular morning routine of going to the bathroom for a piss, then going downstairs to make breakfast. With what's available in the kitchen, I decided to make some scrambled eggs on toast with bacon bits.

I start by breaking 6 eggs into a pan, adding cubes of butter, salt and pepper, full cream, and chives. After whisking for a minute, I took it off the pan, and put the bread in the toaster. I got working on the eggs again, putting it back on the flame, and then starting oiling the other pan for the bacon.

After another minute, I took it off the pan to let it rest. The toast was done, too. When the bacon hit the hot, oiled pan, my dad came downstairs. What surprised me was that he was only in his underwear. No boxers, nothing.

His morning wood must've gone, but the bulge in his underwear is something I could not ignore despite my best efforts. Without saying a word, he went to the fridge and got some oranges out. Then he went to open the cabinets to get the glasses and the juicer.

As he rolled the oranges before knifing them in half, I couldn't help but appreciate a bulky man such as himself being so delicate and mindful in the kitchen. I flipped the bacons strips, then went on to get the plates. When I started plating, I looked back at my old man -who by now is squeezing the juice out of the oranges - and damn, ain't that ass mighty fine.

"Mornin', dad"

"Mornin'. Did you sleep good last night?"

"I did, yeah, and you?"

"Pretty good. Felt so hot last night, must've been the drinks and sriracha sauce."

"Is that why you only slept in your underwear?"

"Pretty much."

"Hope the old lady will let you use her restroom while you do the yard."

With the bacon finished, I picked them up by hand and put them on our plates, grease and all.

"Here you go, old man."

"And yours, son."

He gave me my fresh OJ, and I gave him his breakfast plate. We got to sit down on the island counter before we started eating. We sat at the ends of the table, with the middle stool empty. It's where mom used to sit.

We ate our breakfast in silence - apart from the sounds of the utensils hitting the plate and the crispy bacon being chowed on - as there wasn't really anything to talk about. I'm still trying to wrap my head around dad only being in underwear this morning. Sure, it's the Georgian summer, but it's not like our air cons aren't working or anything. The more I thought about it, the more it made me uncomfortably horny.

After we finished breakfast, dad went off to the shed to grab the tools for today's job. I went upstairs to shower, I walked past the door to my dad's room. I decided to take a look inside, not exactly sure why or what I should be on the lookout for.

When I opened the door, I noticed immediately the heavy air in the room. It also carried a musky smell, must've been his sweat and odour. Didn't he turn the AC on last night?

I walked out of the room and hurried into the shower. As soon as I got in, I closed the door and locked it. I was in a rush to take everything off, and when the last article of clothing was off, I closed my eyes. I closed my eyes to allow myself to reimagine the view of the bulky man in tight briefs in the kitchen -

our

kitchen - and I rubbed myself to it.

I began stroking my 6" rock hard manhood, so deep in lust that I didn't care that I was masturbating to my own dad. The more I stroked, the more intimate the thoughts get. I grabbed my shirt, and began sniffing in. It had the combined smell of both my dad and myself.

That really did it for me. The euphoric smell, the lustful desires, how it all felt so wrong but so right. I took some final strokes, and spurted out one, two, three, four bursts of hot liquid. I made sure to aim at the sink, and washed them down after I got off the high.

It all felt so exhilarating, so overwhelming. I have never felt this sensation before in my life, but I know that I'm going to want it again. I just don't know how, if ever, I can get to that point of high again.

I cleared off my head and stepped into the shower. I decided that my main focus today would be to help out at Joe's, try to make a good impression. Maybe working a sweat in a new workplace could give me some quality distraction.

--

As dad's pickup pulled into Joe's parking lot, he thought it proper to have a little bit of talk.

"Listen, son, I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, dad. For.. getting a job?"

"Look, I'm not good with words, but I know your mom would love to see you get out and help out. Not that you're no help at home, it's just.."

I cut him off before it gets awkward.

"Oh, that's Joe right there."

"Ah, right. Well, good luck on your first day, son. Who knows, you might get comfortable here."

"Thanks, dad."

I got off the pickup truck and walked over to Joe. As we looked back at dad, he simply waved before pulling out, and driving away. Joe led me straight to the back so I can put my things away and get in gear.

"Alright, everybody, listen up. This here's Aiden, and he's gonna help out today in the kitchen. Aiden, meet everyone."

"Hi everyone, I'm Aiden."

"Dana."

"Stacy."

"Hunt."

"Eduardo."

Eduardo runs the show in the kitchen, and Dana's job is to wait tables. I've met them when Joe first opened his place, but only now do I realise how beautiful Eduardo looks. Tanned skin, tattoo on his left arm, jet-black hair.

"Alright, Eduardo. Take it from here. Good luck, Aiden."

Eduardo approached me, shook my hand firmly, and informed me what to do.

"Alright, Aiden. You can start by chopping those vegetables over there. We want them sliced nice and thin, like these, yeah?"

He held up a slice each of tomato, onion, and pickled cucumber. I nodded, and got to work.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, the iceberg lettuce. They're in the fridge, and they need chopping. After that, get back to me. Don't forget to wash your hands."

I did as I was instructed. Started off washing my hands, sharpened the knife, and laid down the chopping board. I got to work on the vegetables like I usually do at home. I got a good rhythm going on.

The kitchen was sweltering hot. Between the summer heat, the heat shared by the other human bodies, and from the cooking equipment, I was really working off a sweat.

I continued to direct my focus on the knife and the veggies. I sliced, chopped, and diced whatever was necessary. My mind wandered off slightly, thinking of what dad could be doing right now. Working off his sweat in the Georgian summer.