// This story is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in it are 18+ of age.
// As usual, I'm very happy to receive any and all feedbacks, whether it's about the writing or direction of the story, other works you wanna see, or just chat in general. Thank you for reading!
I woke up the next day for several reasons. If you asked me which of these reasons forced me out of my slumber, I could not tell you as I processed them all at the same time. The first one was the faint sunlight streaming in from my open window. It was the weak soft bluish hue of early morning rather than the prickly heat of noon. Another reason was the fact I was laying uncomfortably on my side. My bed was already overcrowded with one more person that should be, and that person, who happened to be my dad, was sleeping next to me on his back, his breathing loud but not annoying, and his big frame taking up twice my space. I had slipped from our entanglement during the night and slept with my back to him while hugging my pillow instead of putting it below my head since he was using the second one. And the final reason, which was alien to me till today, was the new sensation of dried cum on my stomach and between my legs.
Dad and I fucked yesterday. That realization was plastered all over my brain. It was big and consuming and without any known ways to break down and digest. Matter of fact, as I laid there in my crowded yet warm part of the bed, I was trying to go back to sleep unconsciously. Maybe I didn't want to deal with the situations that awaited me when I woke up, at least not right now, but I tried to close my eyes and will my body to ignore the unbearable hot fuzziness of my bed covers rubbing my naked lower half to no avail. The light of the sun only grew stronger, my sleeping position only got more uncomfortable, and the weird texture of the dried semen around my groin only helped to wake me up more. To be exact, there were two half-damp spots. As I laid there with my eyes closed, I could vividly feel the once-wet fabric of my t-shirt from where I came as my dick got mashed between my Dad and me. And between my legs, the load Dad himself shot in me leaked from my clenched hole and between my legs during the night, slowly creating a big circle around my ass, as if I peed myself. In a way, It did feel like that's what happened. I felt a special apprehension about the situation I found myself in. It's that feeling when you find yourself in a new environment like a neighborhood you entered by mistake, or your first day at a new job, or, as I said, when you pee your pants and get scared thinking about what to do. And a new situation it was. I mean... Dad and I fucked yesterday. I know I said this already but it really bears repeating, even if I was trying to run away from it at the moment.
I finally took the plunge and slowly opened my eyes. With the sunlight in my eyes, I could not indulge in sleep to run away anymore. I turned on my back, to the best of my ability without disrupting the big guy next to me, and quietly sat up in bed. I pulled my legs close to me as I pushed my back against the bed headboard. Rubbing the drowsiness from my eyes, I took a deep breath as I looked around me. My room, my comfortable sanctuary, was almost as lovely as it usually was, except for the man sleeping next to me. Dad's body was massive, and the small bed only helped to further drive home that fact. His wide full chest was rising and lowering gently as he breathed in blissful peace, eyes closed dreaming about who knows what.
Like me, he wasn't wearing anything from the waist down, having discarded his shorts against mine at the foot of the bed, and his wifebeater was also stained from my cum. I couldn't help but look at this man and think. Up until yesterday, I had not given him the time of day, always trying to steer clear of his strong personality and honest endeavors. Maybe it was the inherent loneliness I grew up with, having no one to call a close family or a dear friend, that made me ignore that need and cover it up with self-centered hedonism, but the sudden incursion of this eccentrically forward man threatened to reveal just how much I was lacking. In other words, I wasn't sure how to deal with him. He was my Dad, and he was also the owner of a big personality and beloved by all for it, and, finally, he was a true manly presence. All these different aspects of him overlapped as I gazed upon his sleeping body, my head buzzing with one word. Why?
Why? Why did he kiss me yesterday? Why was he so forward for someone who was supposedly straight? Why were we both so willing? Why? Why? I couldn't for the life of me think of an answer. Instead, I kept looking at him while hugging my knees close to my chest, my body comfortably cool in its half-nude state. I think it was about half an hour before he started shifting slightly, finally opening his eyes slowly and looking at the ceiling before turning his head and locking his eyes with mine.
We held that stare. Neither of us knew what to say and silence stood between us. I still didn't understand why he did what he did, and I wasn't sure he did either. His face betrayed no expressions as he looked deeply into my eyes, and suddenly I was aware that we both had our dicks out. Reflexively, I drew my knees closer to my body in a useless attempt to hide my crotch from his view. Rather, his own dick and balls were laying quite comfortably between his spread-extended legs, powerfully expressing his manhood. I tried to think of something, anything, to break the silence, and finally managed to utter a few words.
"I- What happened yesterday," I blanked out. I could not form a coherent question. Really, I meant to ask "Why did you fuck me??" but the abrasive words simply did not form in my own mouth.
Dad's eyes never left mine. He didn't respond right away. Instead, he took a deep breath and then got up with a grunt as he sat on the bed beside me, our shoulders barely touching. He turned his head towards me again and finally replied.
"I'm sorry son," He said, with a heavy tone.
It was like a slap to the face. Here I was, lost in the whys and hows, and there he was, already concluding the whole thing was a mistake and apologizing for it. I hated it. I hated it so much. His unbelievable ability to parse and understand the word completely on his own devoid of any external opinion. It's why he charged in to meet his "son" with such a heavy hand, it's why he remained overseas all these years without so much as a visit, and it's the reason we got into his situation in the first place.
"What are you apologizing for? I don't need an apology!" I said, my tone coming out a bit sharper than I wanted. "I wanna know why you did it!"
He shook his head. "It was a mistake. I was weak and gave in to my emotions." He replied. "I'm sorry, I can't apologize enough for making you do this."
Alright, he was starting to really piss me off now. "Stop apologizing and answer my question." I straightened my back as I pressed him.
"What do you want me to say? I already told you I was weak and made a mistake" He seemed detached, but I wasn't letting him go off into his world.
"Oh... you made these mistakes before? Was it with one of your African buddies?" I was now fully turned around on the bed to face him. The scene must have looked very weird at that moment. Dad and son were both naked except for their shirts, sitting on a bed that was struggling to accommodate the both of them while fighting over why they slept together. The hilarity was lost on me though.
"Fuck no!" He replied, his face whipping around, seemingly horrified at the thought.
"So you're not gay, but you need the other person to be related to you to get it up, got it," I spit back. What did he mean by that reaction? Was sleeping with a guy this horrifying to him, warranting a bigger reaction than sleeping with his own son? Something dark was bubbling up inside me, and it wasn't repulsion at the fact Dad had fucked me. I was more annoyed by his reactions. He started this, and now he wanted to steer it in the direction of his imagination. But I wasn't about to let him.
"What the fuck are you talking about John?" A more genuine reaction. I preferred it. Honest repulsion over fake adult performance. His face started showing signs of distress.
"Well? Tell me. Why did you kiss me last night?" I finally managed to ask it, even if indirectly. Why? Why did you do it with me?
"I-" For one glorious second, his eyes seemed unfocused, he was lost for words. I managed to get some satisfaction out of that split second before he re-focused his mind and answered.
"I couldn't help it." He said, looking resigned.
"What does that mean?" I narrowed my eyes. He was still leaning against the bed headboard, but he relaxed slightly against it as if unloading stress from his shoulders.
