“God Damn! Fuckin’ nag of a horse!” my dad said, as he finished tacking on nails to the last of the mare’s new shoes. The mare was starting to get skittish as he finally finished the job.
The mare had tried to kick him, but without much luck. He was too close for her to get any kind of leverage for a f***eful kick. Her kick hit the dead air with a “whoosh.”
“Son, let’s get the fuck outta here. Our job’s done,” he said, as he spit another wad of Skoal juice to the dusty corral ground in a long thick stream.
Dad helped our neighboring rancher, Bill, any chance he could, and this was one of those jobs. Bill was a nice guy with not a lot of money, so dad would treat his horses without charge. The rancher was an old friend, and dad, being a veterinarian and farrier, was skilled at all aspects of being a good old-fashioned horse doctor.
“Thanks again, doc,” Bill said, as we turned, dusted off our Stetsons and made our way to dad’s truck. Dad just waved and smiled, but I knew he was pissed. That mare was a bitch to handle. He had had enough for that day.(Adult Stories)
Dad was a real man’s man. He was about five-ten or so with short light brown hair. His hazel eyes set off his handsome and now slightly lined face. He was masculine without having to talk about it. His bull neck and broad shoulders tapered down to a thin waist and a tight and muscular ass. His thighs were thick and were perfectly framed by his Wranglers. He packed a big bulge in the front of his jeans looking like his cock and balls would strain the zipper enough to bust out. I looked at his crotch as often as I could and marveled that I came squirting out of that package eighteen years before. I wondered if my ever-growing cock would measure up to his. I’d been told often enough that I was a dead ringer for him. They all said I looked just like him; and I did. I could have been a clone. I was the same height and weight, same hair and eye color, same sounding voice and muscular frame. He was just twenty years older than me, but looked much younger than his thirty-eight years. People would mistake us for b*****rs. I knew I looked a lot like him and wondered if our cocks were identical. I hadn’t seen him naked in the shower for quite awhile. I’d dreamed of putting my lips around his dick and sucking his balls dry. I jacked off thinking about his hard rod up my ass and pumping it until I got a gut full of his cum.
As we walked up to the truck, he pulled his gloves off and started to unsnap the pearl buttons on his now dusty and dirty white shirt.
“Hop in on the driver’s side, son. You’re driving.”
We both slid into the front seat of the new Ford F-150. Dad slipped his shirt completely off showing dark thick matted hair on his muscular chest. The sweat was rolling down his chest in rivers. He looked over at me with a big grin, turned to me and flexed his rock hard pecs up and down. We both started laughing. He tended to be a showoff with his body. He had a lot to show off. Since he and mom had divorced a few years earlier, he had a string of girlfriends who would fuck him every chance they got. Dad was a true stud. I liked to think that I took after him.
“Son, it looks like your pecs are gettin’ bigger, like mine. Remind me sometime to take a closer look at ‘em.”
I thought the sooner, the better. I wanted to show off my chest, too. That summer, I noticed hair sprouting on it.
I turned the ignition and threw the truck into drive and punched the accelerator. The rear wheels kicked up dust and gravel as we left Bill’s ranch for home.
“That’s the last time I shoe that fuckin’ glue factory reject-of-a-horse,” he said, as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a Skoal can.
“Care for a dip, son?
“Fuck yeah, dad.”
Dad opened his Skoal can and pinched a big chunk off.
“Open wide,” he told me.
I opened my mouth and he shoved it in under my lip as I kept my hands on the wheel. He helped himself and put the can back in his back jean’s pocket. We both rolled the windows down. It was a warm day in Texas and we were gonna be spittin’ up a storm in a minute or two.
Dad reached over my chest and pulled out my pack of Marlboro Reds from my front shirt pocket and shook one out. He grabbed it with his teeth and then shook one out for me and stuck it in my mouth. He fired up the Zippo, lit us both up, and we inhaled deeply on the strong smoke.
“Fuck, son, these Marlboros are kickin’ my ass!”
“They’re good, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, they sure as hell are,” he said, as he spit more juice out the window. He took a long deep drag on the Red and exhaled. “You been smokin’ these a while, haven’t you?” he asked.
“Since I was sixteen, dad.”
“If you’re smokin’ Marlboros, you’re a real man.”
“Just takin’ after you..”
“We’ll buy a carton when we get to town. These smokes are so good, I think I’ll be suckin’ quite a few down. Skoal’s good, but there ain’t nothin’ like a good smoke.”
Dad took another deep drag on the Red and inhaled. As he exhaled he said,
“Pull over on that side road, son. I gotta piss somethin’ fierce!”
“Me too. I’m startin’ to get a piss hard on. It’s gonna be a bitch startin’ a stream with my cock pointing to the sky.”
“I gotta do the same thing. I got a roarin’hard on, son.”
I looked over at his crotch and saw a huge mound of man meat aching to be released.
“Guess so, dad. I think we both gotta take a long hard piss.”
I pulled the Ford over and parked by an empty clover field. We opened the doors and slid off the bench seat of the truck to the dusty dirt road. Dad stood at the side and faced back behind the truck and unzipped. He took a long drag on the Marlboro and threw it to the ground and crushed it out. I stuck my smoke in the side of my mouth, walked around the back of the truck and walked up to him. He was standing there bare-chested with his eight-inch cock hanging out from the zipper. He gave me a quizzical look, but he was grinning the whole time. His eyes twinkled in the afternoon sunlight. He spit out another load of tobacco juice. I unzipped and pulled out my now piss-hard fat nine-inch dick. It was time I showed it off to my father. He looked down at it and smiled. He hadn’t seen it for quite awhile and it had grown a lot. I knew he’d say something about it.
“Goddamn, son. You’re cock’s getting bigger all the time. You been getting any pussy with that thing?”
“Not yet, dad. I haven’t fucked a girl yet,” I said, as I took a long thick spit.
“Son, you’re eighteen and you’ve never stuck your dick in a wet pussy?”
“Not yet, but I will soon.”
Dad pulled back his foreskin and started his golden stream of urine with a f***eful grunt. It flowed out of his piss-hole in torrents and was splattering close to my boots.
“Fresh hot piss on your boots will make the leather softer, son.”
“Sounds good to me, dad. Piss on mine, and I’ll piss on yours.”
Dad spit out some more Skoal juice. I started my stream with some effort. I was still half hard so I had to hold my cock down. I pointed my one-eyed monster at my father’s boots and let go a hard stream of hot fresh piss.
“That’s it. Get ‘em real wet, son.”
We continued to piss on each other’s boots until we were empty. We both stuffed our cocks back in our jeans and got back in the truck with our wet urine-soaked cowboy boots. I turned over the big Ford engine. It came alive with a loud roar as I backed out of the dirt road and onto the two-lane.
“Hey, dad,” I said as I pulled out my pack of smokes. “Have another Red?”
“Hell, yeah. I’m getting’ to like these. Let’s go into town. We’re both gonna need more smokes.”
We made a detour off the two-lane paved road and drove into our small hometown, went to the gas station and dad bought a carton. We loaded up on more Skoal and a couple of cans of Copenhagen. Dad bought a cold six pack of Rolling Rock and we hopped back in the truck, our boots making squishing sounds. Our socks and feet were swimming in our piss, but our leather boots did feel more supple.
We drove along the country road drinking beers, shooting the shit, spitting and smoking more Marlboros.
“I always say, Smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em and we got a whole carton here, son. Let’s smoke ‘em up!”
“I’m with you, dad.”
“Let’s go check on the herd in the lower forty.”
I pointed the F-150 in the direction of that part of the ranch. We took a dirt back-road to the pasture. A cloud of dust followed in our wake. We pulled onto a small bridge over a culvert and parked. Dad pulled out his new Cope can and we both had a dip while surveying the emerald green pasture dotted with black angus cattle. We each pulled hard on the Rolling Rocks and Marlboros.
As dad spit another long rope of Cope juice, he looked over at me and said,
“Those beers are goin’ right through me.”
As we stood there facing each other, he slowly pulled down the zipper of his Wranglers and produced the thick rod that I had once shot out of. I stared at his half-hard cock as he pulled the foreskin back and forth and aimed it at my boots. I moved closer to him and unzipped producing my nine inch prime man meat. I moved closer. I lifted my cock up to meet his. Our dicks touched. His sweat was pouring down his belly and getting lost in his dark pubic hair and then running down the length of his member He looked me in the eye and said,
“Push your cock tight against mine.”
He grabbed my dick and put my piss slit hard up against his. He pulled his foreskin over it.
“Piss as hard as you can. This is the way real men take a piss.”
He held tight on both our heads as his foreskin filled up with our warm piss. It started to dribbled down his hand. Our cocks were soaked wet with golden nectar.
“Stop now!” he said, as I did what I was told. I held the piss river back. He stopped his stream and said,
“Get on your knees and open your mouth.”
I threw off my Stetson and got on my knees in front of him as he looked down and grinned. I opened my mouth wide. Dad bent over a bit and spit a big wad of Copenhagen juice down my throat. I hungrily swallowed it. He spit again into my waiting mouth and then said,
“You need something to drink out here besides beer. I’m gonna give you a long drink so you won’t be thirsty for quite awhile.”
He moved his dick close up to my open mouth, pulled his foreskin back and started to piss into my mouth in a f***eful gush. It tasted sweet and salty at the same time and I swallowed as much of it as I could. I couldn’t keep up with his stream and it overflowed out of the sides of my mouth, soaking my t-shirt. I moved my head forward a bit and wrapped my lips around my father’s pissing cock. I started to suck and move my head back and forth against him. I rolled my tongue around the wet and warm head. I grabbed his ballsac and started to squeeze slightly. He started to groan as I pumped harder for more juice. I slurped up the last of his piss but continued to pump his rod harder and harder. I felt his belly sweat fall on my face. He pulled his cock from my mouth, spit Cope juice on it and thrust it back hard into the back of my throat. I gagged as he started to shove it in and out of my warm and piss-wet mouth. He reached over to his front pocket and pulled out the pack of Marlboros and lit one up. He sucked hard on it and exhaled a cloud of sweet tobacco smoke down into my face. I breathed deep to get it all in. The smell of the smoke, sweat and piss was making me want to cum, so I grabbed my dick with my other hand and started to jack off.
“I’m gonna shoot a big load down your throat, son. You ready for that?”
I could only nod my head as I continued to pump up and down and squeeze his bull nuts.
“I’m cummin’, son! Fuck!”
I felt dad tense up and felt his sperm tube start to contract. I was ready for all he could give me. His salty baby-juice started to shoot into the back of my throat in rivers. I sucked harder as he shot load after load of his spunk. He shot more and more; I couldn’t swallow it fast enough. I squeezed his nuts harder as he let out a loud groan. I took my hand off his ballsac and grabbed the base of his cock. My other hand was furiously jackin’ my dripping cock. I had so much pre-cum flowing from my piss-slit, it fell in long thick ropes onto the grass. I started to milk more of his load out as I started to feel my jizz start to rise from my balls. I was on the verge of shooting my load. I couldn’t hold out any longer. I shot at least a dozen times in great arcs. Streams of pearl white spunk landed on dad’s still wet boots as I continued to unload my nuts on his leather. I finally slowed down and milked both our cocks slow and hard for any more. I glanced up, his cock still in my mouth as his sperm ran out the sides of my mouth. Dad was standing there looking down at me with a smile on his face and a Marlboro burning in his mouth. He took a long drag and said,
“Fuck, son! You really know how to suck a man’s balls dry. Fuck! You are one helluva man! You’ve had some practice at this, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, I go over to Bill’s ranch and to the bunkhouse and blow the two hired hands of his, usually a couple times a week. I got a real hankerin’ for cum.”
“I can tell. You’re a good cocksucker, son.”
I smiled, stood up and grabbed a fresh Marlboro from his shirt pocket. I reached down into his jeans pocket and fished out the Zippo. I lit up, inhaled deeply and then placed the Zippo back in his pocket. I moved my hand from his pocket and reached down and squeezed his now-softening rod again. A small drop of spunk came up on the head. I pulled off the Red, bent down and licked it up. I rolled my tongue over the surface to get all I could. My own cock was still dribbling cum that landed on my boots. I squeezed and then stuffed myself back into my jeans as I watched dad shake his cock and then stick it into his jeans. We were both covered with sweat that glistened in the bright sunlight. I started to pull my t-shirt off. As I was lifting it up over my head, dad grabbed me by the waist and pulled me over tight up against his wet and dripping chest. Our nipples were hard and rubbing against one another. He flexed his pecs up and down and I met his movement with my own pec pumping. He pulled me closer. Our tits and nipples were pressing harder against each other. They danced amongst themselves in musky man-sweat. I could feel every rope of muscle in his pecs. I continued to flex up and down, making my nipples even harder. I felt his pecs get rock hard as they pressed against my flesh. He lifted my arm straight up, leaned down and buried his nose deep in my armpit. He rubbed his nose hard into the wet hair. I could smell my own musky perspiration as he started to lick all the sweat from my underarm. I felt his wet hairy chest against my belly. I raised my arm higher and he dug his nose in deeper and pushed his tongue hard against me. His beard stubble was scr****g against my skin and it burned. He pressed his mouth wide over my hairy pit and sniffed and licked. He continued to suck my pit of any perspiration. He lifted my other arm and did the same. I felt him reach down to his cock. It was hard again as he started to pump on it. I heard him let out a groan as he spilled more of his spunk. It shot against my crotch drenching my pubic hair. He pumped more out, slowed down and raised his head. We were eye-to-eye, sweat rolling off our foreheads.
“Open your mouth again, son.”
I opened wide and he spit a mouthful of Cope and Marlboro saliva into my throat. I swallowed with a loud gulp. He grabbed my waist again and pulled me back over tight against him. We both relaxed in each others arms, out of breath and panting as our chests continued to heave up and down. I could smell sweat, smoke, Cope and jizz all at the same time. Liting up another Marlboro, dad said,
“What’s my cum taste like, son.”
“It tastes like mine, dad.”
“Well it should. You got the same DNA. Same genes, same cum! Come here.”
Dad turned his perspiring face into mine. He rubbed his beard stubble against my face. I felt his lips move to mine as we each closed our eyes, opened wide and took each others tongues into our mouths. Our tongues darted back and forth in unison churning up dark tobacco juice in our spit. I pressed harder against his lips as we continued to lock tongues. The taste was of hard working cowboys; sweat, jizz and tobacco. He pulled off, stood back and spit a huge wad of Cope juice out.
“That was a fuckin’ workout. Son, you know how to treat a man. I think I’ll keep you around.
He shook a fresh Marlboro out of his pack and handed me one. He took another with his teeth and we both lit up. I felt the strong smoke hammer my lungs as I inhaled deeply. I looked over at him. He squinted as he pulled hard on his Red. The smoke rose up to his nose and eyes. Looking through the haze, he said,
“Let’s have that last beer. We might have to take another piss soon.”