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Subject: I Hate Fishing Author’s Note: This story is told as a fantasy, and I won’t tell you that there is any truth to it. But, as narrator and protagonist, I am not really that creative. So, you can decide if I made it up or not… I’ve gotten a ton of email so far asking me to tell more of my stories, so let me know if you like this one! DISCLAIMER: The following content may contain detailed descriptions of sexual interactions between a minor and adult. If the laws in your place of residence or your religious beliefs make it illegal or wrong to read such, do not continue. If this type of content offends you, do not continue. Donate: Nifty operates free because there’s people who donate to keep it running. Donate. It’s worth the spunk. Contact me: Feedback and such to niq. Hey. My name is Dade. I’m 14, and flat out: my parents just got divorced. Mom says it had nothing to do with me; that my Dad just wasn’t ‘the right guy’ for her – but to be honest, I’m pretty sure it was completely my fault. See, I’m a pretty normal kid. I play soccer. I live on my iPhone. I have a good set of buds. The problem? I decided to tell my parents I was gay. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I mean, seriously, it’s 2015. But it was a big thing. My mom was pretty cool about it, and occasionally asks me questions about it. Dad, however, didn’t really deal well. He started to get real quiet around me. He stopped calling me ‘sport’. He generally pulled away from me, and I didn’t really get it. I mean, he used to watch gay tv shows like Will and Grace. He accepted them! I thought things would be cool. But they weren’t. My mom and dad started fighting about a year ago, 2 months after I told them. Dad started spending more and more time away from home, and when he was home, there was never any eye contact. Mom would yell, then he would yell. Then he would leave. Once I even heard him tell her ‘I didn’t raise no fag.’ Then it happened. One day I came home from school and he was gone. Mom hugged me and told me all about how they were just ‘too different’ and that things had been rough for a while. But I knew. He didn’t want a gay son, and that was that. After the divorce, he cut off all contact. I didn’t hear from him for almost a year, until one day, my mom came home, frustrated. “Dade, your father is going to pick you up this weekend for a camping trip.” I was shocked. Nothing for over a year, then suddenly a camping trip? “But Mom, why? He just left, he doesn’t want to see me.” She shook her head, making herself busy with the groceries she had broght in. She wouldn’t look at me. “Of course he does, honey. He was just angry at a lot of things about the marriage, and it took time for him to come around. Pack up, he’s gonnna pick you up tonight.” I was confused, and scared. I didn’t know what to expect. Around 8pm, there was a single long honk outside in the driveway. I recognized the old Mustang rumble, and I knew it was his. Mom met me at the foot of the stairs, and gave me a hug. “Dade, give him a chance. I don’t know how this weekend will go, but keep an open mind, ok? I think he’s grown a bit. If anything gets weird, you just call me ok?” I knew what she meant. It confirmed most of what I thought. He was weird about the gay thing, and he didn’t know how to deal with me. But what changed? Why now? And camping? We hadn’t done that since I won state in Soccer, like 4 years ago. I grabbed my backpack of clothes and my iPad, and knocked on the window of the Mustang. It was old, like from the 80s. It was all boxy and loud.. but he loved it. I knocked again on the window, and he reached over to the door and popped up the lock. I got in in silence, and couldn’t look over at him. He backed out of the driveway, and we started our trip. No words were spoken for about 15 minutes. I pulled out my iPad, and unlocked it. For a brief moment, the lock screen was showing, and I had a picture of David Beckham in a famous photo of him making a goal. Apparently that’s what he needed; Dad spoke. “You still a homo, Dade?” He said, flatly. I blinked, and had no idea what to say. I mean, yes, I was. But that was harsh. “I’m still gay, Dad.” I said quietly. That’s the first thing he was gonna say to me? This weekend is gonna suck. Nothing more was said until we got to the cabin. We got out of the car, and Dad unlocked the front door. I walked in, and he grabbed my arm. “Give me the iPad.” He said. I looked at him, confused. “No iPad this trip, kid. Only Camping and man stuff.” Dad didn’t let go of my arm. I was going to protest, but he wasn’t losening his grip. I handed over the iPad and he pushed me inside. Great. Now, no iPad, and a homophobic father for the weekend. Did I gaziantep escort mention how much this will suck? I went to the room I always used when we were there, and shortly after throwing my bag down, I realized.. I had nothing to do. I laid in bed, and pulled out my phone. No signal. Without my iPad, I had nothing. No books, no games, no porn.. oh fuck. My porn! If Dad decides to look through my iPad, he’s gonna see all of it. Dad had started cooking, and I could hear the familar sounds of the wood stove he loved to cook on. Coming out of the room, I noted that he was making all the basics he always did. Beans with bacon, Ham steaks. Sitting across from him at the table, we still didn’t talk. Dinner was prepared, eaten, and cleaned in silence. At around 10, he simply told me to head to bed. “Fishing tomorrow. Be up early.” I went to bed, and started to cry. He really did hate me. Sleep came eventually, and morning was there before I knew it. I didn’t even change clothes. The morning, we headed to the dock in silence. We set up the boat, got to the ‘sweet spot’ and fished for almost an hour before anything was said. “School ok?” He asked. “Yeah, no complaints. 3.8 GPA.” I said, as basic as I could. “Any plans for college?” I thought that was weird, but I answered, “Yeah, likely nursing.” Dad sighed, and flicked the fishing Rod. Clearly that was not the right answer. But it was what I loved. I am a good person, and I think kelping people is what I want to do. He took another beer out of his cooler (number 3 by now), and popped the top. After a big swig, he sighed again, and drank the rest in a few gulps. “Look, dude.” He said. “I don’t like this faggot stuff. Why can’t you just find a girl?” I blinked, and looked down at my feet. I didn’t know what to say. He waited, looking out at the water, and pulled in the rod. “Fish aren’t biting. This was a bad idea. I’m gonna take us back in.” We got back to the cabin, and I headed right for my room. I heard dad open the fridge, and open another beer. He was up to 5 by now. After a couple moments, my door opened. “Dade,” he was slurring. “Dade. You sure you’re a homo? I mean, ain’t you tried to fuck a chick just once?” He was drunk. I was really weirded out, and slightly mad. Everyone in my life has acepted me, except him. Until now, I’ve been timid, because I thought he would come around. But he was just being a jerk now. “Yeah, Dad, still a homo. I like guys. I jerk off to dicks and guys. Girls are disgusting.” I was being deliberate and defiant. He took a step back, and looked shocked. “Can’t change that, Dad. I’m gonna date guys, and someday, I’m gonna fuck them.” He looked at me with a fire in his eyes. I didn’t know what to say after that, I had never talked to him that way. He stumbled a little, backing out of the bedroom. I slammed the door behind him and threw myself on the bed. Why can’t I just go home? After an hour of silence, I figured Dad had passed out. He had drank a lot, and I was getting hungry. We hadn’t eaten since the night before. I didn’t want to see him again, but I wanted to get some food. I ventured out of my room, and down the hall to the living room/kitchen. I saw the back of my Dad’s head sitting on the couch, and I could tell he wasn’t passed out.. But was he.. shirtless? I crept closer to get a closer look. Wait; was he on my iPad? I could see the familiar rainbow case on it. What was he.. Oh. My. Gawd. He was swiping through my porn! Not only my porn.. but my Selfies! I could see it clear as day.. pictures I had taken for guys online… he was looking through them all. I gasped a bit when I realized what he was doing; it was enough to make him turn around. When he saw me there, he jumped up. I ran back to my room and slammed the door. He shouted at me to get back in the living room, but I was mortified. “Dade, you little faggot! You’re taking pictures of yourself like some whore!! Get back in here right NOW!” He screamed, and started for my room. I locked the door, and put my weight against it. He was still slurring and mad beyond belief. He punched on the door several times, shouting at me. He kept pounding on the door, and I shouted back. I just wanted him to go away. But he didn’t. He got through the door, and the force pushed me back toward the bed. “Look you little fuck. I didn’t want no faggot son. And I’m not gonna have some whore smear my name. You want to be a little whore faggot? I’m gonna teach you what that means!” His eyes were on fire, and he slammed the door closed. I froze in fear at what was happening. I watched in slow motion as he grabbed me by the shirt. I stood in a daze as i felt him rip down my shorts. I didn’t make a sound suriyeli escort when he pushed me to the bed. “When I was in the army, we had fuckers like you. They needed to be taught how to be real men. You’re gonna get the same lessons.” His hands pulled at my shorts, and he pushed me down, my face on the bed and my knees slammed hard against the rough carpet of the floor. I tried to turn my head to look at him; I couldn’t understand what was happening. He had me on omy knees, and my ass was exposed. For a moment, I thought he was going to beat me. I snapped out of it for a second, and that’s when I saw it. He had unbuttoned his jeans, and his cock was jutting out like a sword. It wasn’t huge. In fact, I remember it being almost my size, just a bit thicker. But I was not prepared for what happened next. “Fuckers like you… ” he kept repeating. He pushed against me, and his 6’3 frame and 225 pounds of Dad-body was rough against me. His left hand pushed at my head, shoving me into the matress, and it was then I knew what was happening. I started to struggle. I tried to scream. I felt his other hand, now wet with some spit, pushing into my ass crack. He was trying to finger me. And I couldnt’ stop him. “Listen you little faggot. This is what you want, so shut up and take it!” He shoved a finger deep in my ass, and pushed his other hand onto my throat. I couldn’t move, and my screams of pain were being muffled by my face deep in a matress. “Don’t pretend you don’t want it. You need straight dick like mine!” This was not my father. This was not the man who took me fishing every year.. This was.. someone dark. This drunk man, this man who served the US Army for 10 years.. this was a dream. It was then that he let go. I felt him pull his finger away from my asshole, and he let go of my neck. I dared not move, and I heard him stand up. “Faggot, turn around.” He commanded. I didn’t move, and paid the price. With a booted foot, he slammed into my ass, shoving me to the side. I was slammed onto the ground, and he looked down at me, holding his dick, now fully hard, in his hand. “Faggot! Get over here and suck this.” I looked up at him in shock. He didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he reached downa and yanked my hair over to his dick. With his other hand, he slapped my face. The sting caused me to yelo out in pain – and it was that yelp that gave him the opening. In one shove, his entire 5 1/2 dick was in my mouth. It was dry, and rough, and I had never had a dick inside me before. But he didn’t care. This stranger, this army guy only saw me now as a faggot to serve him. “Suck it. Now.” I was in a dream. On the one hand, I was getting a real dick in my mouth. I was getting to do something that I’ve been wishing for for years. On the other hand.. It’s my father! A father who is .. treating me like a whore. Was I a whore? Is this what I deserved? Without realizing it, I had begun to slurp on his cock. I suppose it was just natural to do it. “Yeah, see faggot, this is what you all want. Thick fucking dick in your throat. Get it fucking wet.” He was starting to shove it in and out, and I couldn’t help but gag. He didn’t care. In fact, it seemed to make him push harder. I coughed and spat, and my eyes were full of tears, but he just kept going. He didn’t let go of my hair, and I could feel that he had full control. There was something about that.. it was.. feeling good. I adjusted a bit, now on my knees completely, and he put his other hand behind my head. He got quiet, and I realized that I was doing a good job. I caught a few glances upward as he used my throat. I had adjusted to his girth, and I was able to take it more and more, only gagging once in a while. He had his eyes closed, and his knees started to bend a bit. I knew that look. It was the same look I had when I would stand in front of my mirror and jerk off. I started to think about how much he and I were the same. My knees get weak when I get close too… Suddenly, he stopped. He pulled his dick away from my now saliva-dripping mouth, and pushed me to the side. “Faggots don’t get to eat my cum. Faggots get bred.” I froze. I’ve heard similar words in porn. Bred? He wants to fuck me! I tried to push my mouth back to his dick, perhaps to convince him. He slapped me again, and grabbed onto my hair, pulling me to my feet. Finally, now that we were both standing, he looked at me. My eyes were red and puffy, my mougth covered in spit and saliva. I’m not sure, but for a moment, his face softend, and I saw my dad again. Not this stranger trying to rape my mouth, but my dad. A flicker of concern appeared, and he let go of his grip on my hair. I felt him reach for my rus escort face. Intinctively I flinched away, afraid he was going to slap me again.. but he didn’t.. instead, he took his fingers and wiped the gooey saliva from my chin and lips, catching it all in his palm. I sighed in releif, and he smiled a little. Then his grin got bigger. And the flicker was gone. He pushed me backward, and I fell onto the bed. Both of my arms went back to brance my fall, and my legs flew out. Before I knew it, My father was on top of me. Between my legs, he used his body to push his shoulders between my knees. I could feel his stomach grazing against my cock as he got my legs up. It was at that moment that I realized – I was hard as fuck. His belly pushed against my junk, and I could feel the rubbing sensation. I looked down and saw that I was pre-cumming a bit. Dad stopped, watching me for a second. “See, faggot, it’s what you want. Your own dick is ratting you out. Now relaz your fucking legs.” I felt his hand reach through my legs and the spit he had collected was now being spread on my ass. He was gonna fuck me, there was no denying it. I closed my eyes tightly and did my best to prep. Then… nothing. Dad wasn’t moving. I was stuck with my legs on his shoulders, I could feel his hard dick against me.. but.. nothing. I didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t open my eyes. But I heard it. A hack. A gurgle. Then felt it. He SPIT on my cock. I jammed my eyes open and watched as MY father, this stranger, grabbed my dick with his oversized hand and spread his goo all over. I was OVERWHELMED by the feeling. No one had ever touched my dick before. I didn’t dare move, but my own voice betrayed me. I let out a sound of pleasure. “Don’t think I’m a faggot, you shit. I’m just getting you to relax.” He jerked on my hard dick a bit, and I couldn’t help it. I started to arch, and push against his grip. He slid up and down a couple more times, and I felt the best i’ve ever felt. And then? STEEL SWORD OF PAIN. Dad took the opportunity. While he was giving me my first and best hand job ever, he had positioned and shoved all 5.5 inched of his thick cock in my ass. No lube but spit. No warning. No patience. Full in, full speed. I screamed. Loud. I punched and scratched and cried and wriggled against him. But I couldn’t get away. He was fully in me, and he had now locked both arms around my legs. And then, he laughed. He fucking laughed. I was screaming in pain, and he was laughing. “Dade, you need to realize, this is what fags get. It’s what they like. Big cock in their ass. Now, SHUT up and relax. I’m not moving until you get used to it. ” He held tight. And he was true to his word. He did not move ONE bit until I releaxed. I stopped screaming, and my pain started to fade. He didn’t lose an ounce of hardness, and when I finally stopped writhing, he started to pump. And Pump. Dad pulled his cock in and out of my ass, and I could feel it get easier each time. “There it is. Let me finish.” He pumped faster, and harder, and kept putting more and more pressure on my knees, until he was pounding me, with my knees to my chest. It was at that point, I could feel his body rubbing on my own cock. I started to understand why people liked this. OMG.. I was getting close! I could feel it bubbling up. And he knew. “Come on, faggot. You know it feels good. Fucking blow. Let me breed that hole.” It was a whole new sensation. His words were like logs on the fire. It set me off. My teen cock exploded. I shot spurts of jizz between us, and Dad’s thrusts just kept it going. He grabbed my sholders, and started to pound me like a hammer. His grunting got stronger, and with a yell, he slammed one more time into me. I felt his cock pulse, and I knew he was unloading, deep inside me. He pulled out as quick as he slammed in, and walked out of my room, his dick still sticking out of his jeans. He left me laying there, and I heard the kitchen sink running. I got my clothes back on, and stood up. Did this actually happen?! I walked out to the living room, and my Dad was sitting there, beer in hand, dressed and casual. He held out my iPad, and notioned me over to him. I reached out and grabbed for it, but he pulled it back. “This never happened, you got it?” He said. I nodded, and he handed me the iPad. Ok. It never happened. Later that day, he took me to dinner. For the first time in the trip, he engaged me in real conversation. We talked about sports, and his life now that he was single, and we continued the conversation about where I plan to go to college. For the first time in a year, I felt like he was my dad again. It all went back to some level of normal. It was my first time with a man. I don’t know why that day changed us, but it did. And we never talked about it. I went to college. I had boyfriends. I had relationships. I even got married. Dad was at the wedding. To this day, I can’t get fucked without my husband pulling my hair. Feedback and such to niq.

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