The following are a collection of stories and confessions (some of which may not be true
or only partly false). They were retrieved from a public forum on gay incest and father-son
relationship at the JustUsBoys.com discussion forum.
You can read these and more of the older forum posts at:
First off - yes, I am a new member. I've read the entire topic and I know first-posters are under certain suspicion, but a recent poster did bring up the good point that people with fewer posts probably are the ones sharing their true experiences while those with many are more likely making up some (though a few of those could still be true).
So since there's no way to prove this is true, of course, I'll just get on with my story and hope y'all enjoy it. Yup... I have had sex with my dad, and it was a relationship that lasted maybe three months right before I moved out when I was 18. For a couple of years before that, I had moved into a fetish of watching incest porn, and while I'm into straight sex too, I'm primarily gay so the father-son incest really did it for me. Naturally I started thinking about my dad sexually, but I had read about male homosexual psychology and how it was very common to have those feelings, as well as straight men for their mothers and so forth. So I stuck to jacking off and never made any moves on my dad.
Right near the end of my first year at university, I was coming home through the back door where the computer is, and there's a window right there so anyone at the computer can see anybody coming up the back stairs. Dad must have been a bit too engrossed in what was going on on the screen, of course, since he didn't notice me until I walked into the kitchen and started taking off my shoes.
He turned around and I was able to see the screen, which had a porn video on it. Straight as straight can be. He jumped a bit when he saw me, but he had all his clothes on, so I made it humorous and said I'd take off my shoes in the porch so he could finish watching. I did that, and came back in and he was already logged out. He apologized and said that he had been searching for "red neon tubes" when he accidentally came across a porn site that specialized in coloured condoms lol. We had a laugh and then I went into my room... I wasn't too bothered or anything, but I was honestly glad to see him watching porn since I'm a healthy believer in sexual activity no matter your age.
In my room, I'm on my floor sorting through notes and stuff when he comes in and stands in the doorway. I thought he was feeling guilty, so I just told him what I thought in the above paragraph, and he appreciated that. Then he hesitated and said he wanted to tell me something... and it was right here when I simply realized what was going to happen. I knew he was going to ask something personal, sexual... I just KNEW he was going to ask if I wanted to have sex with him.
He didn't get to the point right away, but said first that he loved me very much and was proud of me for taking university, a job, and moving out all together and being in charge of my destiny when he and my mom had supported me all the way. He was glad to see me off, but wanted to have as few regrets as possible... and also reassured me that I could ignore him and we would never need to speak of it again. By now I had no doubt what he was going to ask.
"[name], I'd like to have sex with you. Yes or no, or think about it, or never speak about it again. I'm your father and I respect you, and I want to experience this with you." (Sound artificial? Well, yes, kind of. He's a logician and so am I, so we're like that when we know the wording has to be careful in a conversation. Again, this story is true or not depending on what you want to believe.
) As well as being a logician, I'm pretty skilled at putting aside emotions and getting to the heart of the matter. I wanted to be totally clear we were on the same page... and my heart was pounding and my mind was telling me not to be silly, that it was perfectly clear what he wanted and it was what I wanted too, just once... but I asked him anyway, what exactly he meant.
He was blunt - "I want us to blow each other, be naked, have sex, cum together, and so forth. I want to do this with you. I've watched videos so I know how to do it."
At that, I kind of cackled because it was such a silly and funny thing to say and it was just like my dad to say that. And I knew what we were going to do. I immediately stood up and let down the blinds over the window, then said, "Do you want it here or on your bed, or...?"
He said, "my bed," where I had slept with my parents when I was too afraid to be alone... and now we were going to fuck in it. Here was where I kind of caught my breath and he looked worried.
"If you are really not sure about this, you need to say no now. You can say no at any point and we'll stop, but better now than halfway through."
"No, I want this. I've been thinking about it for like years now, and it's just crazy right now because I can't believe I'm getting this."
He told me he couldn't believe it either, and we both smiled and went to his bed, just across the hall (small house, one floor). Once there, I also pulled the blinds over the window and then we kind of looked at each other across the bed where he and my mother had no doubt fucked countless times... and she was out of the house all day, so we knew we wouldn't be interrupted if we really went along with this.
My dad suggested we get naked now so that we don't have to worry about it on the bed, which would be hard for him to do since he was overweight (I don't have a thing for large people at all, this was just my dad). I was fine with that so we took off our shirts, always looking at each other, and then I took off my pants and socks while he took longer. Both in our underwear, I decided to slowly strip my underwear, which he loved and said,
"I've dreamed about this so many times... I know I'd be called a pervert, but it's just something I can't control. I can't believe we're going to do this."
My cock came out of my underwear and something must have snapped in his head, because he just came right around the bed and pushed me onto it, face up, and buried his face in there. He didn't blow at first, but he got to that right away, and I loved it. Really, it was a blowjob like any other, but I watched it and it was MY DAD. Just unbelievable. He was pretty good at it too, surprisingly...
Then he took off his underwear and got on the bed with me too, and he was actually bigger than I had thought when seeing him semi-nude in the past. About 6 inches while I'm closer to 5.5. He laid back and I returned the favour. The head was really big and I just wrapped my tongue about it... again, thinking, this is my freaking dad! I have my father's cock in my mouth.
He fucked me really slowly at first, gasping a bit and making me worry he was having trouble breathing. But he got it and then started really fucking me. Feeling this huge body moving over me and into and out of me was amazing. And over and over I kept thinking of this incredible fact: This is my dad I'm having sex with.
He came soon after, and I jacked off and came like 20 seconds later. We laid there for a bit and then talked about how we loved it... and he kind of looked at me slyly and said, "is this going to keep you home now?"
Funny. I was moving out in 3 months or so, and that was in stone. So we both knew we'd be doing this again... And we did, all while my mom lived there. If she ever finds out about it, she'd probably freak although she's the best mom a gay son could want... but we really had some close calls!
Like one time dad and I were both in the living room and mom said she was going over to the neighbour's for a few minutes. So right when she left, we looked at each other and I immediately went down on him, in the armchair he was reading in while the huge window was open and the door was still ajar. He came in 5 minutes or so when I jacked him at the end, and then he had to hurry into the bathroom when I saw mom walking back up the sidewalk. Whoo.
And another time we were in the van driving away from a school event and we went down a really abandoned alley, parked, and I got on top of him in the driver's seat and let him fuck me. (We kept condoms in the van.)
Mostly we would fuck in my bedroom or his bedroom, nice and traditional whenever mom was out of the house, but we really loved those risky ones. One time I was blowing him at the computer, sitting under the desk while he watched porn, and suddenly he tapped my head really fast and sharply so I stopped, then he pushed me back into the wall under the computer. Then I realized he was talking to the neighbour through the window, had just barely seen him coming and then called out to him to talk through the window. They talked for like a minute before I said to myself, heck with this, and went on blowing him! Their conversation lasted 5 minutes! Quite a few times dad had to excuse his weird voice for a sore throat, hah...
And now I'm living away from him and barely see him anymore, but he can drive over sometimes. If my roommate's out, we definitely get up to stuff in my room. But it's very rare now, I'm so busy now, so I consider it mostly over. Sad. =(
That's my story... hope you guys enjoyed it even if you didn't believe it heh.
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I’ve never told anyone about my incest experiences before, and if they sound contrived I assure you it really happened. Even though it wasn’t with my father here it is anyway. My first experience was when I was 5 shortly after my father died. I can look back now and see how I was desperately looking for a father figure. It started with an uncle who was 16 or 17 at the time. Everyday my mother would leave for work at 4 am and I would go to my grandmother’s house. Typically there was always someone there so I would be put into a bed usually with someone already sleeping in it. I remember snuggling up to him for warmth and feeling his hard dick. I asked him what it was and he showed me. I know being so small everything seems gigantic but he has an extremely large dick, at least 10 in. So I asked if I could touch it, and he said ok.
When I was 6 or 7 I had a real bad case of hero worship for an older cousin of mine. He was the kind of guy every young boy would look up to. Tall, handsome and he had a wicked sense of humor. He drove hot rods and motorcycles, had a different girl every weekend and was a real rascal that everyone seemed to fall in love with. He was always doing something he shouldn’t and he never seemed to get in trouble. I would spend the weekend at my aunts house sometimes and I would get to sleep in his basement room with him, which I thought was cool, having its own entrance and kitchen and bathroom. It seemed very grownup to me at the time. One time when I was staying over I woke up and caught him jacking off, I asked him what he was doing and he told me. Then he asked me to do it for him. I did without hesitation, I thought at the time it would be like before with my uncle. That was the first time I saw a guy shoot cum, I remember it flying every where when he came. So this happened a few times and things seemed fine. Then one time I was over he asked if he could stick his dick in my ass, I was nervous because he had a rather thick cock, I’d say it was 7 in and pretty thick, I had to use both hands when I jacked him off if that gives you an idea. So he told me to lay face down on his bed and he straddled me, he began to shove the head in, it hurt so bad, I cried for him to stop but he didn’t. He ended up getting it all the way in and proceeded to
I remember afterwards going into his huge walk in closet and laying down in the dark feeling very hollow inside, I was probably in shock. After that I didn’t ask to go spend the night at my aunts anymore. Several years later when I was around 10 or 11 he was moving across country and stopped at our house to spend the night. Of course he ended up sleeping in my bed with me, and during the night he asked me if I remembered when he fucked me, then made me suck him off. He was pretty much as brutal during that too; forcing it down my throat till I gagged and making me swallow his cum. It was humiliating.
Even though these 2 events were in my mind abuse; I never told anyone. I was ashamed and embarrassed even though on some level I still loved him. Plus the thought of what my whole family would think was pretty intimidating as well. I think about it now and I wonder just how much it’s truly affected me, even though I hated what happened at the time now when ever a guy forcefully fucks me or if a guy is rough when I’m sucking his dick I pretty much get off on it hard core…weird but true.
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I used to have sex with my dad. It started when I was a teenager. I stayed with him in the summers, and he tried to give me his version of “the talk” one year. He asked if had any girlfriends. I told him no, and he said “Well, do you bat for the other team?” But stupidly I didn’t know what that meant. He asked it kind of mockingly anyway, and in retrospect I think my mom told him about me (she knew I was gay). This was a really embarrassing thing to be asked, and I let it drop from there.
One night about three weeks later I was at dad’s house watching an adult channel on TV and there was a straight porn on. The guy had a really gigantic dick, fucking this blonde woman on the hood of a car, and I was watching it on the couch, under the covers, hard as a rock, trying to be quiet. I thought my dad was asleep in the other room, but he walked in quietly and said “Whatcha watchin?” and it freaked me out so I turned the TV off, dropped the remote, and acted like I was asleep, which in retrospect I’m sure looked really funny to him.
I know this sounds bad, but I had started drinking beer when I was a young teen, and had been drinking for a long time at this point, so my dad came back a couple minutes later with some beers and turned the TV back on. He was watching the same thing and I was still pretending to be asleep. He said “Son, it’s ok to watch a girly show (he always called porn the “girly shows”).”
I opened my eyes and said “I thought you’d be mad.” And he said “I’m only mad if you don’t share. Want one?”
So I took a beer and drank it as we watched porn together.
After opening the beer, for some reason, my next response was “Please don’t tell mom!” even though mom had given me beer before, and he laughed and said “I won’t.” I knew but somehow didn’t know (if that makes sense) that what I was asking him to keep quiet wasn’t really about the beer at all.
I sat up, enormously hard and throbbing, but my body was still covered. I noticed my dad unbutton his pants and lean back in the chair, and he noticed me noticing. He said “Gotta unbutton, old Charlie is growing.” I sheepishly said, “I’m hard too” and watched his eyes.
He started talking about how it was a shame that you couldn’t find a good woman these days, and that his dick stayed hard all the time, and he had nobody to suck it. I still did not realize where that line of conversation could lead, because I really was a naïve young idiot. I asked if I could see his dick. This time it was he who said “don’t tell your mom.” I said no, no, I wouldn’t tell her.
He pulled down his jeans and I saw his boner through his tighty whities. It laid sideways like a banana would. I was trembling and nervous and so excited and horny, but I was still fully clothed. I was very obviously staring at his stuff and when I looked up he said “You gonna take your pants off?”
My heart was beating insanely fast, and I stood up and took off my pants. I was wearing a pair of boxer shorts with video game characters on them. He asked “Are you gonna take those off?” and I said “I want to see yours first.” He giggled and pulled out his hard dick, without taking off his underwear.
“Can I take them off?” I asked.
“Go ahead,” he said. He sat down in the chair, and I came over, trembling and shaking and horny as hell, and pulled his underwear off. He wiggled as I pulled them down. I was so careful with them that in retrospect it looks stupid.
“Can I touch it?” I asked, and he said yes, to use spit. This was when I jerked my dad off for the first time. But I’m skipping ahead too soon…I was still super horny, so I jerked him off slowly and clumsily, and asked all kinds of odd teenager questions such as “Are you gay?” to which his response was a simple “no.”
I loved having his hard, thick, hairy cock in my hands. In retrospect, it was about the same size as mine (6ish inches), but it felt enormous and warm and smelled delicious. When he said he was about to cum, I asked if I could suck it and he said no, just to keep jerking him. I did as I was told and asked “do you like that?” as he was cumming, when the answer would have been obvious to anyone older. He came, and I kept some of the cum that had landed on my hands to jerk off with. I jerked off on the couch as he recovered in the chair.
After I came, I immediately felt guilty and ashamed and I hid under the covers again, with only my head poking out. I changed the channel. He was sitting up, staring at the TV, with his underwear pulled down to his feet still. He looked like he was kind of in a daze, just staring straight ahead. I was prepared not to speak at all, ever again. He spoke first.
“Thanks son. I needed that. I guess you really are a queer.” I felt hurt, but he said it really lightly, as though it were an OK thing to say to your son.
“Next time I got to get you,” was the next thing he said, as he was walking to his room.
I jerked off again that night about an hour later as I was lying on the couch thinking about what had just happened. He was asleep in the other room.
The next morning I woke up in the middle of the day, and my dad was already gone to work. I took a shower and jerked off again in the shower. I was so horny but every time, immediately after I jerked off, I felt guilty. It was summer, and normally I'd go out and find something to do, or hang out with one of my friends who lived close by, but I did not leave the house at all that day. I felt dirty and thrilled, but mostly dirty, and I thought if I went outside people would somehow know what had happened. When my dad finally came home, I didn’t speak to him at all. He was the one to initiate the conversation that first day. After about ten minutes of wandering around the house, out of the blue he said, “Are we gonna do what we did last night, again?”
I had been thinking only about whether or not we would ever do that again, but I was too shy to ask. I responded, “I want to suck you.” He giggled, but I was serious. I wanted to suck my dad’s dick. And I would.
Basically from that point on I stayed with my dad more often, and we did a lot of stuff over the next few years. Sometimes if I was staying with mom and we wanted to fuck, we would get a hotel. We’d fuck on the hotel bed until we both came, then I’d lay there holding my dad’s limp dick and balls until we both recovered, and then we'd shower and I’d go home. Nobody ever knew. My senior year of high school was when I moved in with him and we became live-in fuck buddies as well as father and son. Once I tried to suck his dick while he was driving, but it was just too cumbersome so we stopped and got a hotel room, even though we were living together, because he liked the idea of having quick sex in a hotel room. This was actually where I first learned the phrase “no-tell motel.” Lame, I know.
I was a gay teenager having very pleasurable sex every other day, if not every day or sometimes twice a day. And I was perfectly comfortable with my body and my partner's body. We could mention anything to see if the other wanted to do it, and it was amazing from my viewpoint then.
There was no better feeling than having your dad’s dick inside you. I just loved laying in bed with my legs up and having him enter me and stay there for a couple minutes, holding my legs up with his hands while his lubed dick was hard and pulsing inside my asshole. He said I felt better than a woman, and I remember him saying that. It was the most awesome sexual feeling I had ever experienced, and remains so. I felt like I gave my dad something he wanted. Taking a shower together was the next best thing. He normally didn’t like anal play but he let me play with his ass when we were in the shower, and standing behind him sort of hugging him while scrubbing his chest is such a horny memory. I know it’s wrong, but it felt so awesome, better than any other man I’ve ever been with, and I still can’t explain why. I know for the vast majority of people, it sounds unbelievable, or sick, or gross. I know that very, very well, but it doesn’t change the fact that it happened.
And I also know this reads like fiction. I nearly completed my degree in modern literature, so for better or worse, anything I write sounds like fiction (sometimes, even my grocery lists look like jumbled poetry). Nothing has happened between me and my dad since I was about 23 (he got remarried and has a new family—I rarely see him these days since they moved West), so I don’t have any proof whatsoever, but I swear this is true. If I would have thought to take pictures, I definitely would have asked if I could have done that. I hear stories like mine from time to time online, but I never see pictures or videos of father/son encounters, and I can understand why – during these types of encounters with your dad, you just never think to ask “wait a minute, can I take pictures of your dick?” I know it never once crossed my mind, and we had sex hundreds or thousands of times over the course of about 7 years.
It has been a few years since the last sexual encounter with my father. I have spoken about those years with a therapist, at length, actually, and I do not feel that it was abuse in the regular sense of the word, because I was in my teens when it began, and I knew what sex was, and what I was doing. In retrospect, I do recognize that the power-play between a parent and a child is something that is crucially fragile and can very easily become fucked up and ruin a relationship permanently, whether the child is 6 months, 6 years, or 16 years old. I was in a four-year relationship with a
I don’t think the sex I had with my father was as pure and fun and “consensual” as proponents of incest or child abuse would make it seem, yet I also don’t think it was as dirty, evil, and sick as some child (or teen) advocates would make it seem, either. I was not a child. It was not child molestation, like you normally think of it at least. And it also wasn’t consensual sex like you normally think of it – after all, he was still my father. Gay incest has shed some of the particular concerns and issues that straight incest retains, such as the prohibition based on reproductive abnormalities. My parents were already divorced, so my dad was not cheating on anybody like somebody in this thread mentioned, but I still felt as though I were betraying my mother, even when I was still young and didn’t really have the type of mental tools to know what that meant. If I lived my life over, I can say with as much certainty as possible that I would not do it again under any circumstance, because on the whole, it has had a negative effect on my life, career, and relationships—after you’ve had sex with your dad, sex with anyone else is automatically difficult, from an emotional standpoint. The sex with my father was the best I’ve ever had, perhaps because it was some of the first, but that is not worth the other psychological effects that linger on for the rest of your life. The fact that it feels good physically adds to the emotional and spiritual pain, grief and anger. How are you supposed to feel when something that feels good also hurts so terribly?
Therapy helps a great deal and has saved many people’s lives, especially those people whose incest stories involve violence or young children. But even years and therapy and medications cannot fully erase or treat the lingering after effects in many people. I can say with more context than probably anybody else can that sex with one’s parent, on the whole, in general, and in all circumstances, is better left to the realm of fantasy or role-play only. There are hundreds like me out there, and I am one of the luckiest ones, having assembled a decent life out of the ruins left of my mind and soul.
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