Getting Bi with Help from Family Ch. 06

In part 5, John reminisced with his son's friend, Marty, about his experiences with his father and brother as a young man. Read ahead to see the special moments John has with Marty and son Jake.

Part 6 -- In the Night

"Oh," Marty said. He looked down at the kitchen table, unsure what to say next. His hard cock, a nice six inches, was in his periphery. "Was it good?"

"Yeah," said Mr. Vilsack. He raised his eyebrows and smiled as if he was still surprised that it felt good after all these years. "Just guys helping each other out, I guess."

Marty nodded. "I understand that."

While Jake, John Vilsack's son and Marty's best bud, slept through a hangover in his room, the two men sat naked in the kitchen in awkward silence.

"I liked sucking your dick," Marty said. He didn't look at John. "I like sucking Jake's too."

John's eyes met Marty's, which relayed that he was looking for approval from this father figure--some validation.

Thinking about his son and his son's best friend messing around made John's erection harder (if that was possible). He remembered how it felt to be young and have a friend you could play with in confidence.

"I'm glad you two have each other," John said, smiling. His mustache moved with his lips.

"But I'm super fucking horny right now," Marty said with eagerness. They chuckled.

"How about," John began, standing up from his seat, his long cock bobbing, "I return the favor from yesterday?"

John knelt next to Marty, who shuffled his chair to face Mr. Vilsack. His cock was pointed straight up, and John wasted no time. He couldn't remember the last time he felt dick in his mouth. He dove down.

Marty, surprised and delighted, gripped the sides of his seat and squirmed. "Holy fuck."

John bobbed up and down. Even though Marty was smaller than John's brother, his fastidious motions reminded him of blowing Rob Vilsack.

John pulled off. "Scoot forward." And Marty did.

John, insatiable for man-time, stuck his tongue between Marty's hairy cheeks, just as his son did the day before. He jerked the 18-year-old's cock while he did so.

"Oh my God," Marty said.

John missed this. He craved wrapping his mouth around something, the feel of an asshole on his tongue and the hair most men have. He missed the musk. Nothing was better than a woman's body, but a man's body might be equal to it.

Marty lifted his legs slightly to give John better access. His friend's father pushed his tongue deeper. Marty rested his head on the back of the dining chair, eyes closed, mouth open.

John reared his head. He brought a middle finger to his mouth, sucked on it, and looked up at Marty.

"Yeah?" John asked, implying his finger would go inside this young man's ass.

"Fuck yeah," Marty rasped.

John took his middle finger, his hand still jerking Marty's cock, and rubbed the pink, puckered hole. He felt Marty push out a bit--an invitation. John was surprised to find his finger slid in easily. His wet finger and Marty's saliva-covered anus were lubed well by John's mouth.

John felt Marty's warm insides while he resumed blowing Marty. He found Marty's prostate quickly and applied pressure, running the tip of his finger along its firmness. Marty felt his hole latch onto John's finger, never wanting it taken out. He felt the most pleasurable ache in his groin. His cock grew stiffer in the warm wetness of Mr. Vilsack's mouth--all tongue and throat.

John, buried to the hilt, stuck his tongue out to lick Marty's hairy testicles. He pressed more firmly into Marty's insides and, in small motions bobbed on Marty's dick, making thick, gargled noises as he did so.

Ecstatic, Marty could not think about his friend's dad between his legs. He couldn't care. Not when he was this close. Marty placed both of his hands on John's head. At first, he rested them, feeling John's hair and head moving ever so slightly. Then his hands took a bit more control. And then more, until Marty dictated the speed with which John sucked him. Marty loved this--his girlfriend would never let him do this. Neither would Jake.

Marty's balls and bush were matted down by spit, covering most of John's face. Neither of them minded as Marty picked up the pace, the middle-aged man's head firmly in the grip of the high school senior's hands.

"I'm gonna cum," Marty said, louder than he meant to. "I'm gonna fucking cum, holy shit."

John continued to let Marty dictate his rhythm. Without a gag reflex, it made no difference to him. He put more pressure on Marty's happy spot. And Marty didn't hold back.

He pulled John's face down to his bush in one quick motion. He held Mr. Vilsack's head firmly to his body and unleashed a torrent of cum down his throat. His hole pulsed around the finger still inside him. Marty shook with pleasure, chills of ecstasy like waves over his body. He groaned, full-throated and unencumbered.

For his part, John didn't mind the hands on his head. He knelt joyfully, feeling Marty's cock and asshole pulse in syncopation while his nose flattened into wet pubes.

After what felt like minutes of orgasm, Marty removed his hands. John pulled back and gasped for air.

"Holy fuck," the two said in unison. They laughed.

"Thanks, Mr. Vilsack," Marty said.

"No problem, Martin," said John, sitting on his heels.

"Do you...mind?" Marty pointed to John's finger, still pressed against their prostate.

"Oh, hah. Sure."

John stood up, his cock still hard.

"You want help with that?"

"No, no," John answered. "I've been well taken care of."

The two smiled.

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Jake woke up to the sound of gargling from the kitchen. He heard moaning and knew what was going on, but the pounding headache from the previous night's drinking meant he couldn't give a flying fuck. Or maybe Jake would go out there and tell them to shut the fuck up. He was tired and cranky and remembered what he'd done.

Jake and his childhood friend had snuck into his dad's bedroom and sucked his cock underneath the sheets on some dumbass dare. He didn't want to think about it and put a pillow over his ear to drown out the sounds of a blow job and fell asleep again.

When he woke, the sun had set. Jake had slept all day. In his boxers, he wandered into the kitchen, gulped down some water, got some food, and went back to his room, passing by his father (who was still nude) snoring on the couch in the living room.

Jake ate what would have been delicious leftovers if he could appreciate the taste. Instead, he played the events of the previous day in his head. He'd given more blow and rim jobs than he'd admit. And then there was the stupid decision to give his father a blow job, even licking his balls. And they were hairy. Jake grimaced at the thought. And yet, his cock grew. Just a bit--but enough to notice. And it made Jake angry.

His mind began to fixate on his memories, as the self-conscious is wont to do when something is forbidden. Jake heard his father's snoring stop, followed by footsteps.

John peeked his head into his son's bedroom on his way to bed. He leaned against the doorway and covered his cock, which still hung low when flaccid. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Jake said. He'd been lying on his back, and the chub in his boxers was visible. John pretended not to notice as Jake got under the covers this summer night.

"Alright, good night."

John worried that what had transpired in the last 24 hours was enough to destroy his relationship with his son. If Jake told him what happened could never happen again, John would respect that without hesitation. It seemed harder on his son than it was on him when he first fooled around with his dad and brother.

"Night."

Jake couldn't sleep, having slept all day. He watched TV in his bed, snacked, and attempted to put away thoughts of the previous night. His father and best friend had sucked each other's cocks. Who was he kidding? He'd sucked his own father's cock.

He didn't want to think about it, but his cock betrayed him. He grabbed his laptop, searched for some porn, and jerked his seven-incher. He was getting off to something that wasn't family or friends.

But then he noticed some incest MILF porn--amateur, of course--and, being 18, took it at face value. A mom and daughter shared dad's cock in every position and hole.

Jake thought about how people were into this fetish. With his cock in one hand, he clicked on the "incest" tag to find abundant videos, all watched millions of times. Iterations of incest, mother-daughter, cousin-cousin, father-daughter, grandma-grandson, and even a bi orgy included some father-son action. Jake clicked on that video.

He watched the father and son fuck the daughter and mother, which quickly switched to the son sucking his father's cock while the daughter ate her mom's pussy. Jake sped up his strokes. As he watched the son blow his father's massive porn-sized cock, Jake thought about how that had been him 24 hours ago. He thought about sucking his father's cock and licking his balls with Marty helping and how, if people knew about it, there would at least be some who would have found it incredibly hot to watch such a scene.

Holding off cumming to enjoy it all, He watched the entirety of the video. After it ended, he masturbated and imagined deepthroating dick. Specifically, his father's. The rigidity, the musky smell, the feeling of a full throat, and the taboo. He broke so many of society's rules in just one night and even had the support of his best bud. Jake intuited that even his father wouldn't have minded.

Jake almost involuntarily stood up, his cock poking out of his boxers. His slim chest was bare as he tiptoed out of his bedroom door and stopped at his father's across the hall.

He looked at his father, covered by a thin sheet on this hot night. His father's flaccid cock was visible under the light fabric, the moon spotlighting his crotch. His father snored--clearly in a deep sleep.

Jake realized his hand was around his cock again, slowly moving along its length. Conflicted, he looked at his father and felt nothing at first. But when he looked at his father's sheeted dick outline, he felt the inspiration for his hardon.

First, this cock was easily accessible. Jake had done it once before, without repercussions. Second, he thought of the porn star pleasuring his family, including his father. And people liked it. The video was highly rated, favorited, and commented on. He thought about how, if he ever did have a recording of blowing his father, millions would jerk off to it. Lastly, wanting cock, though an uncomfortable thing to accept, wasn't frowned upon in this household. His best friend and father and friend at least demonstrated how it wasn't an evil desire (and not abnormal).

Jake tiptoed to the end of his father's bed, his erection swinging with the movements. He knelt, felt his exposed hole against the warm night air, and lifted the sheet.

It was dark, but the moonlight guided him as he slithered between his dad's legs. He could feel the heat of his father's body as he got closer to his father's thighs. Jake's face was near his father's balls while his cock was against the smooth fitted sheet. He gyrated his hips. It felt good.

"Fuck it," Jake rasped. He crawled up, his nose against testicles, ran his tongue over each orb--the source of his existence--and felt hair. He heard the roughness of the bristles in his inner ear. It was so much quieter without someone with him.

While his father snored, Jake licked balls for the first time without encouragement. His father's cock grew across his belly. Surprisingly, he couldn't see it happening and hadn't thought about it yet. He let himself get lost in the feel of balls. Watching that porn inspired something freeing in him. Never having enjoyed doing this for Marty, presently, he submitted to the sensations. He wanted to take the entirety of each teste in his mouth but knew that it could wake his father if he were too rough, so he continued licking until--

Jake scooted up further, rubbing his cock against the bed. He lifted the sheet and, with the moon's help, found his father's penis. The son grabbed it with care, used an elbow to raise himself, and put the cock head in his mouth. He suckled, appreciating the feeling of skin against his lips and tongue.

It felt like the bare minimum. Jake recollected the flow of endorphins he felt whenever he'd deepthroat Marty--or the cock in his mouth. He couldn't resist. It might wake his father up, but Jake was already here. He was already playing the game. His subconscious knew that if his father awoke, nothing terrible would happen.

In one movement, Jake quickly descended on his dad's dick. He swallowed it whole and ran his tongue across the stiff musculature. His father tasted salty, which was oddly satisfying. He savored the fullness in his throat. Drooling, he matted his father's ample pubic hair.

Jake stayed there for what seemed like a long time. His father snored while he pressed his nose further into John's pelvis. He extended his tongue to lick his father's balls, to feel their malleability under the pressure of his body's most vital muscle.

Tiny bobbing motions at first, then picking up speed, Jake made longer strokes with his mouth. He would pull off, lifting the sheet with the back of his head, then go down again. He made sure to keep slurping noises at a minimum and to go slow.

Jake didn't notice his father had awoken. John, bleary-eyed, stopped his snoring. He felt a warm wetness between his legs, waking up from a pleasant dream to extreme pleasure. He lifted his head slightly and saw the movement of the sheets. It dawned on John's clearing mind that it was someone's head that was moving up and down and that his dick was inside the mouth of the person who moved with such expert rhythm.

John's head fell back onto the pillow, and he sighed. Jake didn't hear over the sounds of his mouth. Not conscious of who was giving him the blow job of a lifetime, John drifted into a state of otherworldly pleasure. He was king as the mouth under the sheet took him whole, pulled off its entirety, and descended deep in repetition.

He felt one leg of the hidden stranger move over his own. The body straddled him and a firmness pressed against his leg.

Jake's neck and elbow had grown tired. At the risk of waking his father, he had to switch positions. He felt his cock rest against his father's leg. He shifted into a posture more comfortable, distracted by the feeling and taste of cock so much that he hadn't noticed that the room was silent and that his father had stopped snoring.

It occurred to John Vilsack that the person under the sheet might be his son. Marty had left hours ago, and who breaks into a house to suck some 40-something's cock? He held his breath, hoping to hear some moan, snort, or anything that would tip him off. And there it was. A gasp, some panting--it was a young man's voice. It sounded like Jake.

"Fuck," Jake whispered. He swallowed the cock again and wondered if he'd spoken too loudly and held his dad's dick in his throat, listening. His father had stopped snoring, but he hadn't moved. Was his father awake?

Jake held his breath and listened closely. His father continued to hold his own and looked at the hidden, motionless head. The room had an air of awakeness. The two men were too nervous about indicating that they were aware of each other's consciousness.

Jake bobbed again, cautiously.

John let out a breath, and a nearly silent moan escaped his mouth as he did it. Jake's senses, heightened in the silence, heard his father's breath. He paused again, mid-length. John was careful not to move, and Jake sensed it.

A few seconds felt like an eternity. If John were awake, slipping out from under the sheet would mean his father would notice him. They might exchange glances. It would be so awkward.

But if he kept going, they'd implicitly accept that Jake had his father's cock in his mouth. Just like the guy in the porn Jake had watched.

And Jake continued, refusing to understand why as there was no point. He'd gone this far, and he'd done it willingly. Not a dare from Marty, no coercion on his father's part. He was here, mouth on dad-cock, of his own volition. If a grave needed digging, he'd already dug it deep.

John, meanwhile, was relieved to feel the resumption of this blow job-of-a-lifetime. He thought about his father and brother, how they'd continued a long tradition of family men helping each other out. With his dick and balls wet in saliva that carried half of his DNA, the dad was proud of his son for choosing to continue the tradition. Eventually, he would tell his son about the family's past and how what seemed extremely abnormal was quite common in their bloodline.

Jake, having succumbed to his hardon that pressed against his father's leg, sucked and deepthroated in earnest. A strange emotion began to bubble up as he let his guard down and felt compassion, perhaps empathy, towards his father (the feeling was compersion, but Jake had yet to learn the word). It felt good to know he pleased his father, who had been lonely for so long. And if Jake knew anything for sure, it was that an orgasm was the world's most effective stress reliever. He at least was offering that.

John, meanwhile, could sense Jake's feelings, being his father and all. He relaxed and reveled in the pleasure. He closed his eyes and moaned once again.

"I'm gonna blow," he said, breaking the implied agreement to remain silent.

When Jake heard his dad's voice, he surprised himself by picking up speed. He pulled his mouth nearly off his father's cock, keeping the tip submerged, then slammed his face into his father's pelvis, taking all seven-ish inches in one movement. It felt masochistic to be banging his face into someone's pubes, but that full-throat feeling was intoxicating. He felt his father's cock grow rigid. He thought about Marty's cock and how it became irrepressibly hard before cumming.

Jake thought he would have stopped by now. His father was awake. His father's cock was in his mouth. He never fancied himself to be one to enjoy cock so much. But his mind was overtaken by lust.

John Vilsack couldn't hold back any longer. His balls tightened, his butt cheeks clenched, and his eyes widened, watching the persistent rhythm of a bobbing head underneath the bed sheet. He blew a massive load.

Jake felt the pulses begin and forcefully buried his face in his father's crotch. His tongue sensed the underside of John's cock thrust cum down his throat, mesmerizing him. He felt the primal power of a cock when it's cumming, as if it were an entity of its own, aside from the body to which it is attached. His father's powerful spasms echoed his sole purpose: depositing its seed. And deposit it did: right into the son's stomach.

John's legs shook, and a chill came over his body as he had what felt like an endless orgasm that lasted beyond cumming.

Jake, rock hard, with his cock pressed into his father's leg, slowly lifted his head, his mouth suctioned to his dad's dick. Reasons unsure, he hoped to draw every last strand of DNA as he slid off. His father spasmed at the feel of a sliding mouth on his sensitive head. Jake sensed it, recalled that he hated that feeling, and pulled off more quickly.

With Jake's head raised, the lifted bed sheet revealed a partial view of the scene. John saw his son's arms, one hand planted between John's legs, the other to his side. He saw the wet base of his cock and his sopping pubes.

Jake awkwardly dismounted his father's leg and struggled to keep the sheet in place as he slithered out from under it. It wasn't necessary, given that the father and son were well aware of what had transpired, but Jake felt the attempt at secrecy was essential.