Getting Dad Drunk

From: James Spaulding 

I had my 18th birthday figured out.  I knew what I wanted.  And past
experience told me I knew how to get it.  I was going to get my dad drunk,
and he was going to fuck me.  As simple as that.  Except - of course - it
wasn't all that simple.

That said, I did have some practice in the impossible: I had already
seduced my best friend's father.  I like older men.  And older men like
younger guys.  That's pretty much true across the board.  Sure, Tyler's dad
was married.  Sure.  Tyler's dad was straight.  But it is also true that it
didn't take a whole lot of convincing on my part to get him to fuck me for
Christmas.  Yeah, that fuck was my Christmas present.

Tyler and I had been best friends since we were seven.  We grew up together
and his house was often as welcoming as my own.  I'd spend weekends with
his family.  He'd spend weekends with my family.  By the time we had
reached high school, sleepovers had become a thing of the past, but we
still spent a lot of time with each other.  Of course, once hormones
struck, Tyler started working his magic with the ladies.  I hoped to work
my magic with the lady's Dad.

That said, tthe dad I most wanted was Tyler's.  Mr. Elliot had always been
kind to me.  He'd always spend time with Tyler and me, taking us fishing,
taking us to football games, taking us to McDonalds when we were hungry.
But he had also been the first man I fantasized about.  My first orgasm -
an odd, unthinking eruption - had occurred as I was reliving the moment I
first saw Mr. Elliot naked.  I had gone camping with the Elliots, and the
camp shower was pretty rustic: a 6' x 6' square with a showerhead on three
of the walls.  No shower stalls.  No shower curtains.  Just one room with
three showerheads.  As luck had it, Mr. Elliot happened to shower the same
time I chose to shower one morning.  I did my best to keep my stares
surreptitious, but his man's cock, man's chest, and man's ass fascinated my
boy mind.  My memory of Mr. Elliot's cock, chest, and ass fueled my first
orgasm.

By the time I was a senior, my fantasies had grown more graphic.  Night
after night I shot load after load thinking of Mr. Elliot.  In my fantasies
he always fucked me.  He always came in my mouth.  He always kissed me when
we finished.

By the time I was a senior in high school - a randy 17 year old - I began
to jack off imagining any number of scenarios which would lead to the fuck,
the mouthful of cum, and the tender kiss.  I would walk in on Mr. Elliot as
he showered.  He would invite me camping.  I would walk in on him as he
masturbated.  As he watched porn.  As he was changing clothes.  All sorts
of scenarios.  But none seemed particularly realistic.  Time passed and I
became more imaginative.  And then something happened that made my fantasy
take on a new twist.  I began to think I just might know a way to get
Mr. Elliot in bed.

The Homecoming Dance had just ended.  Tyler and I both had dates; I could
pretend if I needed to.  And all four of us were planning on going to the
illicit bonfire that followed the official high school activities.  We
stopped at Tyler's house to change out of our suits.  The girls changed in
the Elliot's guest room.  Tyler went to his room.  And I changed in the
first floor bathroom.  I left the bathroom and went to the kitchen.  I was
thirsty.  A coke sounded nice.  I got my coke, opened the back door, and
wandered outside.  After the noise of the dance - and the constant chatter
of my date - quiet proved a pleasant relief.  That quiet was immediately
interrupted.

"Hey, Alex.  What are you guys doing home already?"

I was startled.  I had thought I was alone in the Elliot's backyard.

Mrs. Elliot walked past me.  She had a towel wrapped around her.  "I've had
just about enough of the hot tub.  I'm too hot.  Then, I sit out a while
and I'm too cold.  Besides, I guess I better go in and see if Stephanie and
Abby need anything.  I can just imagine their quick change.  Nothing quick
about it.  Knowing the two of them, they probably brought four or five
ensembles to assemble.  Girls."

I heard Mr. Elliot laugh.  I turned to the hot tub.  Mr. Elliot was sitting
on the edge, taking a swig from a bottle of beer.  It was a cool night, but
the chill had no effect on him.  He sat in his swim trunks.  Body
glistening.

"I can only take too much of the tub myself.  But I paid so much for the
damn thing, I hate to leave it."  He took another drink, swallowing the
last of it.  "Hey, Alex, would you mind getting me another one."  He held
his empty bottle out to me.  I took it, returned to the kitchen, expecting
to see Tyler, but he was nowhere to be seen.  I walked back to the hot tub,
handing Mr. Elliot his beer.

"I sure do like this.  Drinking beer.  Sitting in the tub.  Looking at the
stars.  This is a good life."  He swallowed.  And I watched.  Mr. Elliot
was fast approaching his 50th birthday.  But thanks to an exercise regiment
he had established on his 40th birthday, he was a fit, solid man.  Looking
as good as he did that first time I saw his naked body.

I stood there, doing my best to conceal the boner that filled my pants.
Believe me, a shirtless Mr. Elliot was enough to get me going.

"Only problem.  It doesn't take a whole lot of this stuff to put me over
the edge.  I guess the hot tub dehydrates me or something."  He took
another drink.  "This is only my fourth beer, but I feel like I've had half
a case... Hey, how was the dance?"

"You know.  The usual.  Loud.  Silly.  And fun.  I guess I came out here
'cause I wanted a little peace and quiet."

"I hear you.  You got time to get in the tub with me?"

Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.  What an invitation.  Of course, there was no way I
could get in the tub with him.  Tyler and the girls were soon to emerge.
But the invitation had done its dirty work.  I had another scenario to
ponder the next time I got my hands around my cock.

"Ah...I don't have a suit."

"Alex, you can always borrow one of Tyler's.  Or, hell, you could just
climb in here in your skivvies."  He paused.  He laughed.  "Skivvies?  What
the heck am I talking about?  You don't have a clue what skivvies are, do
you?"

"I guess it's my boxers."

"You guessed it, little buddy.  You could wear your boxers and that would
be fine with me."

I laughed.  "Yeah.  And then I'd be all wet for the bonfire.  Cold and
wet."

"You got me there, Alex.  I guess you'll have to take a rain check."  He
took another drink.  Winked at me.  And laughed.

Needless to say, the bonfire couldn't end soon enough.  I needed to take
care of business.  I needed to cum in the worst way.  By the time my cock
was lubed and my hands were working, I was ready to blow.  I had little
time to imagine my new scenario: The hot tub.  Mr. Elliot.  Me. And five
beers.  Don't think for a moment I didn't constantly imagine and re-imagine
that scene.  And don't it didn't take all that long before I decided to see
just how far it would go.

Christmas was approaching.  The Elliot's were going to Miami for the
holiday.  Tyler and his mom had already left. Mr. Elliot was left alone; he
couldn't leave until Christmas Eve.  Of course I knew all of this.  Tyler
was my best friend.  But I also knew I could play stupid.  And maybe, just
maybe, spend some time in the Elliot's hot tub.

I waited until I was sure Mr. Elliot was home from work.  My hands shook as
I rang the doorbell.  I was so nervous the boner I had nursed all day had
left me.  I waited.  Mr. Elliot opened the door.

"Hey, Alex.  Good to see you.  I was just starting to get a little lonely."

"Lonely?"  Here's where I started to play stupid.

"Yeah.  Tyler and Ruth left for Miami yesterday."

"Crap.  I forgot.  I was coming over to hang out with Tyler.  I was getting
bored at home.  All Mom and Dad want to do is watch stupid Christmas movies
on the Hallmark Channel."

Mr. Elliot laughed.  "Can't stand 'em myself, but Ruth sure enjoys 'em.
Come on in.  I haven't a clue what we can do, but certainly we can come up
with something."

I hoped there was some double meaning, some sort of euphemism in
Mr. Elliot's welcome, but his welcome was the sort of welcome offered by
any best friend's father.  But when the door closed behind me, I felt a
surge of excitement.  I was in the house.  We were alone.  And so far
everything had gone according to my fantasy,

"Are you hungry?"

"Nope."

"You thirsty?"

"Sure."

"You want a coke?"

"Whatever you got."

"I got coke.  I got beer.  I got wine coolers.  I got eggnog.  You name it,
it's yours."

It wasn't the first time he had offered me alcohol.  He knew Tyler and I
drank.  He knew we drank responsibly - or, at least, as responsibly as any
high school student could drink.  I took him up on the offer.  Hell, the
fantasy required beer.  At least five of them.

"I'll have a beer.  If that's OK?"

"It's OK as long as you don't tell your parents and don't leave here drunk.
You got that?"

I nodded.  He handed me a beer.

"Cheers."  Our bottles touched, and I began to loosen up.  This was working
the way I had hoped.  It was practically following the script I had created
in my head dozens of time.  Next step: the hot tub.

"Thanks for letting me come in.  I mean, I kind of feel like I'm bothering
you.  You probably like having some time to yourself and everything."

"I do like time by myself.  But sometimes a little company is nice too."

I followed him into the den.  He had a college basketball game on.  We
watched a while.  We drank in silence.

"This goes down well.  Thanks, Mr. Elliot."

"Well, there's more where that came from."

At half time, Mr. Elliot got up, made his way to the kitchen, and came back
with another beer.

"You know, Alex, I'm not all that interested in this game.  How about
joining me in the hot tub?  It's a little cold outside, but not as bad as
it has been.  You know me, I spent so much money on the damn thing, I
figure I gotta use it as much as possible."

Fuck my luck.  Mr. Elliot was as good as following my script.  These were
the sort of words I imagined him saying every time I masturbated.

I followed his lines with my own.  "I'll go get one of Tyler's suits."

I went upstairs to change.  I adjusted my boner by the time I got
downstairs.  Mr. Elliot was waiting for me in the kitchen.  He was wearing
his swimsuit, a towel draped around his neck.  He handed me another beer
and we walked outside.  I helped him uncover the hot tub, shivering as I
did.  He turned on the controls, the steam rose and bubbles filled the tub.

The water was hot.  The air was cold.  And I was in heaven.  Let the night
begin.  Mr. Elliot sat at one end of the tub.  I sat at the other.  I was
lost in my fantasies.  He drank silently.

I heard him say something.  It broke my reverie.

"I'm sorry.  What did you say?"

"I know.  That damn machine makes so much noise, it's practically
impossible to have a conversation in this thing."  With those words he
crossed the tub and sat next to me.

"I asked you how everything was going with Abby."

"I guess, to be honest, there isn't a whole lot going on."

"Yeah, Ruth and I didn't figure she was right for you.  We just never saw a
spark."

I laughed.  "That's for sure.  There wasn't much of a spark - ever."

"Here."  He reached for my bottle.  Got out of the tub, and walked to the
kitchen door.  I watched him as he walked away.  His suit clinging to his
ass.  I wanted him more than ever.  Three beers down...

Mr. Elliot returned with a bucket filled with beer and ice.  "No need to
keep getting in and out.  Ruth would have a fit if she saw the kitchen
floor right now.  I dripped -- a lot."

We continued to drink.  Four beers.  On to the fifth.  We were drinking
quickly.  Feeling the alcohol.  But I had no idea how to continue.  In my
fantasy I usually jumped from the fifth beer to the blow job.  But in
reality, I knew I had to do something.  I was pretty drunk.  Mr. Elliot was
on his way.  I waited for him to open the sixth beer.  He handed it to me,
and I moved my leg towards his leg.  Our bodies touched for the first time.
He looked at me.  Toasted.  And his leg didn't move.  I let my hand touch
his thigh.  He didn't move.  I let my hand rest on his thigh.  My foot
touched his foot.  He didn't move.  We drank in silence.  He looked at me.
He laughed.  And he got out of the tub.

"Fuck.  That thing gets hot."  It was the first time I had heard him swear.
Sure, I had heard hell and damn and even an occasional shit, but I had
never heard him say fuck.  Something was happening.  He was loosening up.
He sat on the edge of the tub, facing me.  I looked at his crotch.  He
noticed.  He adjusted himself.

He reached for another beer.  "Here."  I took the beer.  Our hands touched.
He looked at me.  He leaned back.  "Fuck.  I am officially loaded."

"Yeah, me too."  But we both drank more.

"Alex, I am afraid I have been a bad dad.  I got you drunk.  You can't go
home like this."

"Ah...yeah...I guess my dad would kill me."

"And then he'd come over here and kill me."  We laughed.

"You'll just have to stay over."  He looked at me.  Took another drink.  "I
mean ... only if you want."

"I want."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then drink up little buddy."

Though we were silent, our eyes spoke volumes.  I kept looking at
Mr. Elliot.  Glancing at his crotch.  Certain he had grown hard.  He kept
looking at me. Then he would look away.  Finally I had had enough hot tub.
I got out of the water and move to sit next to Mr. Elliot.  Our legs
touched.  I placed my hand on his knee.  He looked at me.  His hand moved
to my thigh.

He cleared his throat.  His voice was husky.  "Um...I've...ahh...I've never
done this before Alex."

I cleared my throat.  "I know, Mr. Elliot."

"But... Alex...I...um... Alex, I want to.  I want to."  He looked at me and
his hand moved to my crotch.

"I want it too, Mr. Elliot."

He squeezed my boner.  Laughed.  "I can tell."

By now my hand had worked its way into Mr. Elliot's swimsuit.  My hands
found the pouch that kept his cock and balls in place.  My hands felt his
erection.  My hands cupped his balls.

"I don't really know what to do, Alex."

"Yes you do, Sir."

"I...but you're underage, Alex.  And...You're a guy, Alex. I..."

"I'll help you, Sir.  Except..."

"Except what. Alex?"

"Except your cock is so hard, Sir.  And I'm pretty sure you know what to do
when it get's like this."

He looked at me.  Laughed.  "You little fucker."

"Yes, Sir."

I moved my hand to the waist of his swimsuit, untied the string, and
released his cock.  In my fantasies I had imagined Mr. Elliot's boner
hundreds of times.  I was certain that my imagination had created an
expectation that no man could meet.  Not so.  Mr. Elliot's cock was long,
thick, and beautifully proportioned.

"Mr. Elliot...I have wanted to suck your cock for years."

Instead of responding, Mr. Elliot put his hand on the back of my head and
forced my mouth towards his cock.  I opened wide and began to swallow
Mr. Elliot's inches.

It was hard work.  He was so thick.  And I did not want to have him feel my
teeth.  I worked slowly.  Each time my mouth went down, I swallowed more.
And there was still more to swallow.

Mr. Elliot's hand never left my head.  "Come on, Alex.  Take it all.  Take
it, baby."

Mr. Elliot continued to push my head, forcing more of his meat down my
throat.  And I continued to respond, swallowing more of his cock with each
movement of my head. I had freed his balls from his suit.  I held them with
my right hand.

"Alex.  Look at me."

I stopped swallowing for a moment to look at my best friend's father.

"I'm drunk.  You're drunk.  God knows I will regreat every moment of this
tomorrow morning.  But let's go inside.  If I am going to sin with my son's
best friend, I am going to sin completely."

He handed me a towel.  I dried of as I followed him through the kitchen and
up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Get on the bed, Alex."

I laid down, looking at him, waiting for his next command.

"You know what I really want to do, Alex?  You got an idea?  I want to fuck
you.  I want to fuck you so hard you hurt.  I want to use you like the
whore I think you are.  I want to ride you.  And I am not even going to ask
you if that's alright."

He stepped out of his swimsuit.  And I saw him fully naked and fully
aroused for the first time.  Mr. Elliot was tall.  A little over 6'.  His
chest was hairy.  His head was shaved.  He turned to go to the bathroom.
His ass was as hairy as his chest and legs.  I heard him rummage through a
drawer or two.  He came back with a tube of lube.  His cock stood fully
erect, a full eight inches.  And thick.

"Get on all fours Alex.  I'm going to fuck you like a dog."  I obeyed.  And
I soon felt his fingers enter my hole.  They were covered with lube.  He
began to open me up with his fingers, readying me for his cock.

"I saw this in a movie once.  A guy was going to fuck this chick in the
ass.  He needed lube.  And he needed to loosen her up."

Two fingers entered me.  I gasped.  I had never been fucked before.  I had
only imagined the pleasure.  And soon I was going to feel all of Mr. Elliot
up my ass.

I turned my head to look at Mr. Elliot.  He was stoking his cock, covering
it with lube.

"I am so ready to fuck you, Alex.  I am so ready to feel your tight hole
surround my thick cock.... Are you ready, Boy?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Say please, Alex.  Say please, Mr. Elliot, I want you to fuck me."

"Oh, Mr. Elliot.  Please, fuck me.  Fuck me, Sir."

I stopped speaking.  I groaned.  Mr. Elliot began to enter me.

His first movements were tentative.  I was tight - really tight.  And he
had never had anal sex before.  We were beginners.  But I wanted his cock
deep inside of me.  I wanted it more than anything.  And his insistence -
and his erection -- told me he wasn't going to give up easily.  He kept
trying.  I kept trying.  And soon enough his erection entered my hole.  He
began to enter me.  Slowly.  It hurt.  But I made it very clear I wanted
all of him.

"Mr.Elliot.  Please...fuck me sir."

With my urging he moved deeper.

"Do you...like...that, Alex?  You like having me...fuck you..."

"Yes.  Fuck, yes."

He moved deeper.  The pain decreased, replaced by a sensation I had never
known before.  Slowly he began to move inside me.  Slowly pulling back.
Slowly moving forward.  He began to fuck me.

"You are so fucking...fucking...tight.  Fuck."

Fuck he did.  He became more excited.  He fucked me harder, deeper strokes,
quicker thrusts.

He pulled out.  "Turn on your back, Alex.  I want to see your face."

I turned over.  My legs in the air, he prepared to enter me again.  He
looked in my eyes.  Stared for a moment.  Bent down, raised my chin, and
gave me a quick kiss.  His hand brushed my head.  He whispered: "are you OK
Alex?"

"Yes, Mr. Elliot.  I am fucking awesome."

Another tender look, another quick kiss, and his attention shifted.  Once
again, his fingers entered me.  Once again, he stroked his slick cock.  And
once again he entered me.  I watched as he grew more urgent with his
thrusts.  I watched as my best friend's father took full advantage of my
teenage asshole.  His fucked harder.  I felt his balls slap my ass.  He
lost himself in his fucking.  I lost myself in his fucking.

"Alex, I'm so close to cumming.  I am so close..."

"Please, Mr. Elliot.  Please, I want you to cum in my mouth.  I want to
taste you.  Please."

"If that's what you want, Baby."

Mr. Elliot pulled out.  Moved to the bed, and knelt by my side.

He stroked his cock for a few seconds.  My hand moved to his balls. I
fondled.  I squeezed.

"That's it, Alex.  That's it. Baby....fuck...I'm cumming..."

He raised my head to his cock.  I opened my mouth.  And he began to shoot,
covering my eager tongue with his semen.  I swallowed.  Opened my mouth for
more.  He put both hands on my head, and once again his cock was in my
mouth.  He fucked my face.  I tasted the last of his cum.

He pulled out.  "What the fuck, have I done, Alex?"

"You fucked me, Mr. Elliot.  And I loved every minute of it."

He laughed.  "Fuck.  I loved every minute of it, and I'm supposed to be
straight."

He pulled me toward him.  I happily moved closer.  He looked in my
eyes. "Are you sure you're OK, Alex."

Yes, Mr. Elliot. I am better than ever."

"Alex, don't you think you should call me Ted?  We just fucked.  It's feels
a little odd, Mr. Elliot.  Mr. Elliot should not have fucked you.  But Ted
sure the fuck did."

"Thanks, Ted."

He smiled.  Moved closer.  His lips met mine.  They lingered.  I opened my
lips and received his tongue.  We kissed.  Tentatively at first.  But after
a few minutes Mr. Elliot was on top of my, moving his groin, once again
erect.

"Fuck, Alex..."  He whispered between a kiss.  "You need to cum.  That's
only fair."

With those words he shifted his attention.  His hand surrounded my cock.
He squeezed.

"Nice.  Very nice."