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Subject: Title story: "Military Dad" Author: INCEST MAN 59369814
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Date: Sun, 13 Nov 2005 08:04:08 +0000
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Military Dad I grew up on a military base in Sarasota NM. My dad was a Master
Sgt in the Air force and my mother worked nights at the base hospital. I was an
only child until I was 12 and since my Dad worked off hours as did my mother, I
got to see a lot of them.
My dad was almost 6'1 and rather slim. He was clean-cut and very military. He
had short dark brown hair, intense brown eyes and wore glasses. He looked like a
cross between an accountant and an English professor but from what I heard on
base he could be a real asshole. At home though, he was the perfect father and
husband. When my mom wasn't there he often wore gym shorts, tennis shoes and an
old college jersey around the house. He also smoked cigars from time to time and
drank whiskey late at night. But when she was there he'd dress up in khaki's and
a golf shirt. A typical Republican.
On the weekend, we use to do the regular dad/son stuff like go to the park and
play Frisbee with Lucy, my 3 yr. old cocker spaniel, but for the most part we
didn't have much in common. My dad loved football and sports and all that crap
where I was much more artistic and analytical - even at 10.
The year everything changed was the summer I finished the 5th grade. My parents
were having a lot of marital problems and my mom would pick up and leave for
weeks at a time. I didn't know where she was going and didn't care. At least I
didn't have to hear any more fighting. My dad and I got pretty close during that
time and since he wasn't very domestic he depended on me to take the dog out,
wash my own clothes and sometimes make him dinner. We ate out A LOT because of
that.:) But at this same time he started to drink more and would get very out-of-
hand. Especially after he talked to my mother on the phone who said she was
going to come and get me and move back to West Virginia. The last thing I wanted
was to live with my grandparents. I didn't want to leave my dad anyway and had
grown pretty close to him, especially since I slept in his bed most nights and
we'd stay up late watching movies.
We started horsing around at that time too. He'd pin me down on the floor and
tickle me. That wasn't too odd. What was odd was when he started sitting on my
face and pressing his smelly ass crack into my face and nose. He'd usually be
wearing his thin cotton shorts and I could almost feel the hairs of his crack
tickling my face. Then he'd grunt and let out a loud fart right on my mouth.
He'd grunt when he did it too and then laugh. As annoying as this was, it wasn't
near as bad as some of the other things he liked to do.
On several occasions our playing became more 'physical' and he'd not only pin me
to the ground but sit on my chest and look down at me while I squirmed to wiggle
out from underneath his 175-pound body. He'd then let a ball of spit form on the
end of his tongue and slowly let it drop onto my face. Even worse he'd tell me
to open my mouth and would let the long string of spit fall directly into my
open mouth. This made me gag many times, but it was supposed to be all in fun. I
never really realized just how sexual our games were getting because at that
time I didn't know what sex was for the most part. Another thing he liked to do
after he'd come home from work was pour a drink and sit in his chair. He'd then
call me out of my room and have me sit at the foot of his chair and take off his
boots one by one. Then he'd stick his smelly feet in my face and tell me to take
a good whiff, which I did. I then had to remove his socks and I could smell the
funk between his toes. I remember the first time he told me to go ahead and lick
his feet clean. I just sat there not believing he really wanted me to do this.
He said it was what he called a 'Test'. He said that he did this with his
recruits to gauge their loyalty. To test their acceptance of his authority. I
remember the first time I opened my mouth and began sucking on his big toe. I
did it slowly at first, the ripe smell filling my nostrils but then really
getting use to it in a funny sort of way.
"That's it Tom," my dad would say, "Get all in between them with your tongue.
Yeah, that's it son. Use your tongue more and lick up all that shit between my
toes." Several times I noticed him reach down and place his hand on his crotch
and gently massage himself, although I couldn't see anything, I pretty much knew
what he was doing to himself. Our wrestling games increased too and he loved to
get me down on the floor or the bed, sit on my face, spread his long hairy legs
and let out a big loud fart right on my helpless face.
"Mmmmmmmm," he'd moan out loud, "how'd you like that one Tom?"
I'd just mumble actually use to the smell of his farts. Then I remember several
times when he'd actually pull his shorts aside and sit directly on my face, his
hairy puckered asshole right on my mouth and then let one rip. The gas would
fill my ...
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