1. Deflowering my Son


    Date: 7/21/2015, Categories: Fiction, Anal, Gay, Incest, Young, Author: Muffin button, Rating: 76.9, Source: sexstories.com

    this to be happening. I locked the door to my bedroom, threw on a robe, and just sat on my bed. I had always been strongly anti-gay, and had been disgusted with any form of incest. Surely anyone who would touch a child in any way was sick in the head. So, what did that make me? I had just had sex with my own son. No matter how anyone tried to defend it, I had done something terrible. I let my head sink into my hands. Something had been terribly wrong with me that morning. I tried to rationalize it somehow, but nothing I tried to tell myself made any sense. What could possibly justify this? It had started when I saw my son watching gay porn on his computer. That’s how it started. Then I somehow ended up fucking him in his ass, and after that he gave me a mind-blowing blow job in the shower. Where had he learned to suck like that? Children weren’t supposed to know how to do those things. Surely that was true. I never told my son about sex. I made it a point to never even say the word in the house. Not when he was home anyway. I was reasonably certain my wife hadn’t told him about it, either. Anyone who was a decent person kept such knowledge away from children until they turned sixteen. That was at the earliest. I had planned to postpone that talk until he was twenty. Clearly someone had not only taught him about sex, but had taught him about sex with other men. I didn’t know who it had been, and I didn’t know how I’d go about finding them. In any case, I had to find some way ...
    to quell the lust I was experiencing for my own son. It seemed that every time I closed my eyes all I could see was his small, naked body. I didn’t want to see it, and I didn’t enjoy seeing it. All I knew was I was turned on by my boy. I wanted to swallow his semen and fuck his ass. It made my skin crawl and my dick hard. What was I turning into? What kind of father was I? This was driving me mad. Was there any way I would be able to be around my son without having sex with him? That was when I started hearing the deep moaning of a man involved in gay sex. My son was watching two guys fucking, and he had the volume turned up where I could hear it. My son was hornier than I was. Was everything I knew about kids wrong? Or was this one somehow different? Surely he hadn’t found this on his own, right? The more I thought about it, the more questions I came up with, and I was no closer to an answer. I could only sit there, listening to the sounds of homosexual fucking. As I listened to the sounds coming from my son’s room, I could only imagine him jerking off, the way he had been when I caught him. I threw a pillow against the door. I wasn’t angry with him. I should have been, but I wasn’t. I should be bursting through his door demanding he turn off the pornography. I should be grounding him from use of the computer. All I wanted to do was suck his dick. I had thrown the pillow in frustration. How could I call myself a father if I wanted to have sex with my kid? There was only one ...
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