---
title: 'Chapter 5'
pp_protect: '0'
---

## Chapter 5

Date: Wed, 15 Feb 2017 18:15:43 +1100
From: Taylor Foxx <taylor.foxx.author@gmail.com>
Subject: The Mistake Text Message 5

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not. I decided to keep it going since so many people liked it. But since
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As I watched my sperm rain down on my son, I suddenly found myself
giggling. Something about the situation was funny to me. Perhaps it was the
comically loud sound of my sperm splattering across the duct tape over his
mouth. Maybe it was the snorting, heavy breathing noises he was making in
his struggle. Or maybe it was just the rush of endorphins and serotonin
from my orgasm. In any event, my chuckle didn't even seem to phase my son,
who was no doubt drowning in the scent of my cum.

As my orgasm subsided, so did my case of the giggles, and I fell silent as
I shook out the last few droplets of sperm on to my son's thrashing face.
Even in the dim lights, I could make out the whites of his wide eyes and he
stared up and watched the very last bit of my seed dribble down the cleave
of my head and onto the tip of his nose.

I paused for a moment there, staring down into his eyes. There was so many
emotions swimming around in my son's gaze. I recognized them all from his
childhood. The look of desperation, not unlike when he would beg for an
extra cookie after dinner. The look of anger, like when I would make him
clean up his toys and go to bed. The look of shock, like when he would
catch me giving a smooch or a pinch on the ass.

But as I stared down at him, my cock softening over his face, I saw another
emotion I hadn't been expected. Sadness. It reminded me so much of the look
he gave me when I explained that his hamster had "escaped the cage". It was
the look he had when he told me about a new kid at school who had pushed
him down on the playground.

I flopped down onto the bed, suddenly feeling intense guilt. It suddenly
hit me like a freight train what I had been doing. Not the obscenity of it
all--I'd come to grips with that and decided to ignore it.

No, what got me was what I had been doing to this poor kid. I'd turned his
life upside down with a stupid mistake text message. And instead of
apologizing or listening to him, I took advantage of him. I took what I
thought was mine, and in the process, I'd caused my son intense pain.

I lay there, rolling this over in my mind, as I listened to my son fall
asleep. Several times I almost took the tape off his mouth, but I still
wasn't ready to give up the game. We'd come this far.

It was time to give him what he wanted--what he needed. I couldn't believe
it, but I was going to feed my only son a load of my cum. But first, I
needed to know more information. I needed to know everything my son thought
and wanted. It was time for an interview.

***

I woke up in the orange light of sunrise. I lay there for a moment, staring
at the white, stuccoed ceiling of the hotel room.

I could still smell it. His scent. The smell of the liquid my father
created in his testicles. The odor of the subastance that brought me to
existance.

I could smell it because it had dried and crusted on my face. I could feel
the flakes of my father's seed pulling against my cheeks as the tears
streamed down.

Eventually, I stopped caring about how I got there, or what my father and I
had done. I felt base, animalistic. I was only able to focus on the cum
that's was drying on my face, the substance I wanted so desperately to
swallow - for whatever reason. I didn't care anymore.

I was about to break into wracking sobs when I heard a quiet "ahem" from
the foot of the bed. Suddenly I remembered that I wasn't alone in that
hotel room, with my brothers and sisters drying on my face. No, I was there
with the man who put them there. The only man who could do that--my dad.

Slowly I scooched upwards on the bed. As I did, I locked eyes with Dad, who
was sitting at the end of the bed in the cheap hotel chair.

He was wearing one of his the ugly bathrobes the hotel had hanging up when
we arrived, though he wasn't even attempting to keep it closed. I couldn't
even see the waist tie, as he leaned back in the chair, allowing the robe
to act more as a frame for his naked body than an actual article of
clothing.

My eyes quickly dragged down to the my father's crotch, and I felt my pulse
beating in my neck as I saw what I knew would be there--a raging, angry
hard on. It stood up rigid and straight on its own, pulsating slowly. A
hard on that said it was already boiling up another load of the most
precious substance on the planet.

At least to me.

All was silent in the room, just the hum of the air conditioner running.
But as I stared, unable to look away, Dad slowly moved his hand down to his
magnificent cock and began to stroke.

***

My boy didn't look me in the eye the entire conversation. He kept his eyes
trained on my meat, which didn't surprise me anymore. In some ways, it was
better than eye contact. After all, my meat and what it meant for him was
the subject of conversation.

 I let him watch me stroke for a few minutes, knowing it had a hypnotic
effect on him--especially with the lack of sleep and the duct tape still
over his mouth.

Finally I broke the silence.

"I'm going to take the tape off your mouth, and we're going to have an
honest conversation, kiddo." I tried to sound as stern as I could, but the
fact that this conversation was actually happening had me on edge. And I
was litereally on the edge of another orgasm, so I guess it was turning me
on as well.

I managed to keep my orgasm at bay even as I watched my son nod slowly.

"If you scream or freak out, or even refuse to answer a question, the tape
goes back on. And don't bother trying to lie to me, son," I said, tracing
my thumb around my cockhead. "I can always tell when you lie."

When he nodded again, I stood up to remove the tape.



Once he caught his breath a bit, I knew he was ready. The tension in the
air must have queued him off that this was different--this wasn't just me
teasing him with my cock, driving him crazy with my balls. This was a
breaking point. A new step...one I wasn't even sure I wanted to take until
I came on his face.

"I want to hear your side of the story. Start at the begging. When did you
start to obsess about your old man's cock?"

The words hung there in the air for what felt like a century. It was the
first time either of us had acknowledged what was going on out loud,
without a text message or mask of ignorance between us. Finally, I had
acknowledged that which had taken over my son's life for the last few
weeks.

By opening up the air like that, the tension in the room lifted some, and I
actually saw my boy relax on his knees. I couldn't help but notice his
smooth, young cock was rock hard and dripping onto the sheets below
him. Jeeze, he really had it bad.

"Honest, Dad, it didn't start until I saw that text message. The first
one. But...I...I mean I don't know how I hadn't noticed before, because I
was instantly hooked. As soon as I saw...it--"

"Not `it,'" I barked at him, suddenly flaring up in anger. "Cum. Jizz.
Sperm.  Daddy Milk. Seed. Cock snot. There are hundreds of names you could
use to describe what you want better than `it.' If you want it, show my cum
the respect it deserves."

I watched my boy's bottom lip tremble in time with the pulsing cock. I
hoped he recognized the tone in my voice...the one from...

***

...my childhood. I'd recognize that tone anywhere. Even now, as a teenager,
I couldn't resist it. The sound of expectation, the threat of
disappointment in my father's voice had always snapped me into line, and
now was no difference.

I took a deep breath and focused in on the piss slit of my father's cock,
which was now glistening with a drop of precum. My stomach growled.

"As soon as I saw your jizz, Dad, I knew I wanted it. No, needed it. As
soon as I saw the first drop of your sperm leave those cock lips, dad, it
became my ultimate obsession. School, friends, my relationship with
you...nothing else mattered, because I needed my dad's cock juice."

I paused, noticing my father's cock twitch. He was still mostly jerking the
base and shaft of his cock, giving me an unadulterated view of the leaking
head. I was thankful for that, becasue it gave me something to focus on. I
knew if I met my dad's eyes, I would freak out, lose control. But his cock
head helped me speak openly.

"What do you mean when you say you `needed it,?'" my dad asked. His voice
was softer, still firm, but not as threatening as before. Our conversation
was starting to flow....god, how did we get here? "Tell me exactly what it
is you want to do with my cum, son."

Again I took a deep breath and honed in on my father's pisslit, which was
now glistening from the precum waterfall that had begun.

"I'm not sure, Dad. I..."

My dad cleared his throat, which was all I needed to know I was going off
track again.

"Ingest it," I said quickly. "I don't know how or why, but I want it--your
sperm--inside my body."

"How?" Dad asked. "How do you want it to get there?" As he said this he
stood up and took a step toward the bed. I inched forward as much as I
could.

"I...haven't thought that far, Dad. It's more like, I just NEED it inside
me. I need the cum that made me inside my body. I guess...I guess
swallowing it would make the most sense?"

Dad walked closer, and I crouched forward, so his cock was face level. It
was less than a foot away from my face now, bobbing, leaking precum down to
the floor.

"Oh really. What else?"

Dad's cock is now just a few inches from my lips. I want to leap out, but I
know I can't.

"Well, I've thought about just letting your cum absorb onto my skin. Like
letting it dry and not washing it off...but I don't know if that would
work. And um...other ways."

Surprisingly, my dad doesn't ask for more information, which is a relief. I
was about to say something I thought I might regret. Instead, he surprises
me with a question.

"Do you think you've proven you deserve it?"

I'm crosseyed now, staring at the cock in front of me. I'm about to answer
when I feel a hand on my chin, and despite my best efforts, Dad cranes my
head upwward. I'm forced to look him in the eye.

***

I stare down into my son's eyes. I was nervous to make eye contact, not
sure I wanted to see this. But hearing his words, knowing how serious he
was, I wanted to see those baby blues as I told him what I was planning.

I'm not sure if he was closer to tears or just exhausted, but his eyes were
wet, bloodshot. He looked exhausted, and yet, so hungry.

"Answer me," I said firmly.

"I-I do, Dad. I think I've waited long enough."

I let his words hang in the air then, jerking my cock obscenely in his
face. Then I moved forward just a few centimeters, until my cock made
contact with his lips. We both paused there, unmoving, for what felt like
hours but was probably only a few seconds.

"Really? I don't think you have.

And with that, I slowly pulled my cock away from my boy's lips, letting
just the tiniest string of precum stretch between his upper lip and my cock
head, until it broke. I had to stifle a laugh when I saw how quickly and
hungrily he licked his lips, even while staring into my eyes.



"So here's how this is going to work. We're gonna pack up our things and
get out of here, head back home. I'm gonna shower first, and when I leave
here to go to the shower, we're back to not talking about this. But now we
both know what you want, and what you think you deserve. There's no going
back from that."

My son was still staring into my eyes, still sucking on his top lip, but I
could tell he understood. He was so damn attentive.

"At some point, I"m going to text you with a command and a deadline. If you
follow my orders by the deadline, you'll get one step closer to what you
want. Miss the deadline, and it's over. Got it?"

My son's eyes slowly moved back down to my cock, then back up to mine.

"Got it," he said, his voice hoarse.

And with that, I slapped my cock on my son's face one last time, and then
headed to the shower. This was going to be fun.

______________________________________________________________

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I love hearing from fans, so if you like this and want more, message via

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