In many ways, fourteen-year-old Brandon Armstrong was your typical American kid. The smooth-skinned, fair-haired, soccer-playing eighth-grader would not cause you to turn your head if you saw him at the mall (that is unless you happen to like smooth-skinned, fair-haired, soccer-playing eighth-graders, in which case you may delay your trip to the Gap or Cinabon for a few moments to watch him go by.) Everything about Brandon seemed average.
He had a page on Facebook and a full buddy list. He was a B student, doing just well enough to escape both condemnation and praise from his parents and teachers. He liked to hang out at the mall (and was not oblivious to the men who turned their heads as he walked through it) and enjoyed shooting the old black-and-white ball with his friends and playing new video games with his computer.
He had an I-Pod full of songs by groups you've never heard of and occasionally drank a beer or smoked a blunt on a Saturday night. He lived in a quintessential suburb in the heartland of America, just outside of Indianapolis, and he liked movies with Adam Sandler in them.
Yes, Brandon is your typical American boy. He liked girls, and had wet dreams about a blonde girl named Ashley who was in a few of his classes at Thomas Jefferson Middle School, this girl was not his main source of sexual release. You see, Brandon liked to bounce his tight young ass up and down on his father's penis. Yes, Branson was getting regularly fucked by his perverted father. He didn't know if he was a faggot or what, but he loved to ride his dad's dick until the old man shot his sperm deep inside of him. Nothing felt so good.
And on this particular Thursday, Brandon was riding his father's cock at a time when he should have been in school. It had begun in social studies class, when Brandon received a text message from his father that read "need it now, cu in 15." Brandon's asshole had twitched in anticipation of the incestuous pederastic liaison as he waited for his father to come save him from the tedium of his history class.
Finally the page came over the PA system: "Brandon Armstrong please report to the principal's office." The horny boy got up and left the room as the teacher droned on about some guy who was shot like a thousand years ago in 1914 and caused some war in Europe between like Germany and everyone.
His father had taken him home and, without a word, the two male members of the Armstrong household had stripped. Brandon had pulled off his black t-shirt and jeans before eagerly lowering his young ass over his father's throbbing penis, as if compelled by some unseen force to do so. The fourteen-year old raised his ass nearly all the way off of his father's cock, then slammed himself back down, burying the paternal prick deep inside of him. He wiggled his butt from side to side to tease his father, and then rose again to start the fuck cycle all over again.
"Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me, please fuck me in the ass! Oh please fuck me!" he wailed as he bounced up and down.
Brandon didn't know why he liked to get fucked so much, only that he did. Nothing felt as good as the feeling of his father's steely prick inside his boy-ass. His own thin prick was rock-hard and dripping pre-cum as he played slutty cowgirl for his dad.
"Give me your prick, oh fuck that's nice, fuck my ass, Daddy, fuck my boy ass!"
"That's nice, Brandon, that's a good boy, give me your ass! Yeah, your ass is so tight," came the reply.
Mr. Armstrong definitely enjoyed the snug fit of his son's gripping rectum around his penis. The man was normally straight, but for the past few years he had found unparalleled delight in his young son's hot butt. He had first fucked the kid two years earlier, and had been doing so at least twice a week ever since. His wife was a nice enough woman, but she really didn't enjoy sex, so Mr. Armstrong had been free to find release with his son, who couldn't seem to get enough of his father's cock up his adolescent ass.
"Oh Daddy your dick feels so good, please fuck me, fuck me hard!"
Mr. Armstrong responded to the boy's obscene request by thrusting his strong hips upward to meet his down-ward plops, forcing his penis to rub against the adolescent's prostate. Brandon moaned in pleasure and continued bouncing up and down. Mr. Armstrong couldn't believe the energy his son had. He ran his hands over the boy's well-develop calf muscles which were engineering the boy's homosexual bouncing.
He looked down and saw the sight of his prick being swallowed up by Brandon's ravenous ass, and the man rolled his eyes back in lust. He couldn't believe his luck in having such a cock-slut fag for a son. Whenever he suggested a fuck Brandon was more than willing, and the boy constantly gave the forty-five-year-old the best orgasms of his life.
For his part, Brandon felt so good that he couldn't help but jerk on his randy dick. He pulled his pud furiously and soon came so hard that he thought he would pass out.
"Oh, fuck me, Daddy, fuck me in the ass, fuck my faggot ass, oh fuck that feels good, please fuck me, I'm your fag, fuck my fag ass, don't stop, please don't fucking stop."
The boy's hot cum landed on his father's thighs, and the man felt his own ejaculation begin in his balls as Brandon's asshole constricted even more tightly around his invading prick.
"Here it comes, son, take my jizz, take my fucking jizz up your little faggot ass!"
Mr. Armstrong's sperm shot out of his balls and into his son's asshole. He gently massaged the boy's soft but firm asscheeks as he felt the bliss of orgasm wash over him.
Brandon collapsed into his father's arms and hugged the man who he loved so dearly on so many levels. He kissed him gently on the lips and ran his hand through the man's hairy chest, pausing for a moment to tickle his dad's sensitive left nipple.
"Wow Daddy, that was great!" he thanked his father.
"You're welcome kiddo, my pleasure!" came the satisfied reply.
The two lay in silent happiness together.