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Subject: Title story: "Military Dad" Author: INCEST MAN 73402659
From: TheXfan <ryzij@poczta.fm>
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Date: Mon, 24 Apr 2006 17:45:33 +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 ...
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