---
title: 'Chapter 3'
pp_protect: '0'
---

## Chapter 3

Date: Sat, 10 Sep 2016 11:19:55 +1000
From: Taylor Foxx <taylor.foxx.author@gmail.com>
Subject: New Chapter - The Mistake Text Message

Here is the next part of the story - thank you so much for the feedback
that's already been sent my way!

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Now sit back, relax, and enjoy.


Right after the blankie episode, my son changed. I noticed it right away -
though I think the kid thought he was being stealthy.

This was all happening right before his spring break, and my son used that
to his advantage. He and I were home alone together a lot, and I'll admit,
I'd been excited to try torturing my son while we were constantly under the
same roof. I was gearing up to start jerking off four or five times a day,
then texting them all to my son at night. Or maybe even sending him a live
stream of it.

But then my son got ballsy - or at least, as ballsy as an offspring can get
when he's obsessed with his father's jizz. He started trying to interrupt
me. He seemed to always know where I was, and every time I tried to sneak
off to somewhere to do the dirty deed, he'd find an excuse to get in my
way.

His excuses were pretty flimsy, but not once did he ever mention anyhing
about the hundreds of cum shot videos and father-erection photos I'd sent
him over the past few weeks. Or the fact that I'd spread my pre-fuck juice
all over his bedroom and jizzed on his most prized childhood momento.

Of course, I still found ways to pull it off - while he was sleeping, or
quickly squirting out a load onto my phone's camera lens while I sat on the
toilet. But the volume of sperm I was shooting, and therefore the volume of
cum vids I was texting my son, had taken a sharp decline. I'd had enough of
that - I wasn't done with this game, and he wasn't at all in charge of it.

Fortunately, I'm not only more of a stud than my son, but I'm also smarter,
and so I was able to think up a pretty quick solution to show him that I
was in charge in this family.

Obviously, my son thought I was only doing this for the thrill of the
texting. And that was partially true - I loved maniuplating my son through
the device he was never without. It was so hot to take control of him
without ever broaching the subject aloud.

But that wasn't the PRIMARY thrill for me. The primary thrill was knowing
that the meat I had between my legs and the sperm it produced had total
power over my son. After all, he came from that very same substance - and I
was lucky enough that I'd accidentally exposed him to the sight of it. Now
he was hooked on the visual of sperm spraying out of his father's piss
hole, and THAT was what I enjoyed most.

I decided to execute my plan late one night, when my son interrupted a
late-night jerk session by playing some stupid TV show loudly in his
room. I couldn't get off thanks to the sound and the knowledge that he was
on to me, so I decided to hold off.

In fact, I decided then and there that I was going to hold off cumming
until I had my son's attention and submission again. Instead, I was going
to focus on the other thing I suspected got my son going - the sight of my
cock when it's approaching orgasm.

I knew that my son was so excited by me cumming that the lead up - when my
daddy cock is as hard and thick and long and red and vieny and throbby as
it gets - must be very thrilling and anxiety-inducing to him. Don't tell me
how I could tell this - a father knows.

So I decided to keep my cock in that state as much as possible. I knew this
wouldn't be easy, but I'd always enjoyed edging as a young man, because it
made my already massive cumshots that much bigger. A few days of this -
which I suspected was all it would take to break my son - was going to be a
breeze.

The next morning, I spent a couple hours early before my son got up
watching porn and thinking about my plan. That was more than enough to get
my cock throbbing hard and about to explode.

I waited until I hear my son stirring, and then I called him into my
room. I heard his footsteps stop - I hadn't summoned him into my bedroom
since he was a little boy and wanted a cuddle after a nightmare.

This time, though, I'm sure it was clear there would be no cuddling when my
son walked in. I had my laptop open on my lap, porn on my screen, and my
insanely hard cock on the backside of my laptop. I couldn't see my cock
since the screen was in the way, but my son had a front-row view of the
underside of my cock.

I wonder if he recognized it like an old friend. I must have sent him at
least 40 or 50 videos from the underside of my dick when I squirted, so
there was no way he wasn't familiar with the bottom of his father's
shaft. But this was the first time he'd ever seen it in the flesh, and the
shock on his face was so hilarious I almost broke character and started
laughing.

"I need your help running some errands today, kiddo. So get showered and
let me know when you're ready."

I gave my son a small smile, then turned back to my computer screen. It was
so hard not to look up and see the look on his face one more time, but I
managed to stay focused and pretend like my insane erection wasn't still
staring him in the face.

It took almost a full minute for my son to turn away. I'd love to know what
was going through his mind. But I'd have a chance to find out - plenty of
chances. For the next week or so, I was going to be flashing my hard on to
my son as much as I could.

***

I couldn't believe it. There it was, the cock that I'd been obsessing
about, the balls that contain the true core of my obsession, just feet away
from me. Somehow dad's computer felt like a barrier, and I just knew that
there was now way my dad was going to acknowledge that he was flashing me
his insanely hard cock.

By this time, I knew every stage of my dad's erection. Plenty of his videos
started when he was flaccid (still so long and heavy looking), and lasted
after his orgasm ended and his cock fell soft, but still violently red and
thick.

But the state of my dad's cock when I walked in on him was one that I knew
better than any other. Those accentuated veins, the angry redness, the
insentse pulsating.

There's no doubt about it, my dad's cock was just moments away from spewing
his incredible jizz, the focal point of my so-very-recently transformed
life.

And yet, he wasn't touching it, and I knew from his edging videos that he
could stay at this state for a long time. Usually those videos were the
hardest to watch, seeing him get himself close and back off. When I watched
my dad's personal movies, I just wanted him to cum and get it over with. I
needed to see him shoot so that I could get back to my life and forget
about my shame.

In those edging movies, I know my dad could tell he was torturing me. And
so it was clear to me, when I walked in, that this terrible game of torture
and humiliation had entered a new stage. I didn't understand it, but
clearly my dad did, and that made me sick to my stomach. And rock hard.

It didn't take me long to get my head around the new chapter of our game,
though. This was clearly retaliation for my failed attempt to regain
control of my life. I'd been working hard the past few weeks to put a stop
to my dad's excessive cumshot text messages, and now I was going to pay the
price.

I had hoped, when I decided to try to interrupt dad's wank time, that not
seeing him cum as often would help me regain some of my life back. And you
know, I think it was working. I had managed to get Dad down to just one
harassing text a day or so, as opposed to the four or five he was sending
me at the height of the torture.

Though I was still upset and anxious when I got those texts, I found that
relying on those and all the videos I'd saved made my odd addiction
manageable.

But in the following weeks, when Dad switched to showing me his rock hard
cock all the time, in the flesh instead of through my phone, I transformed
again.

Almost overnight, my stash of my father's custom jerk off videos went from
being the most important things in my life to worse than worthless. When
dad broke the technology barrier and showed me his cock in real life, a new
hunger awoke within me. One deeper and darker than my hunger for dad's
texts.

Now, I knew I would never be satisfied until I saw it happen, in front of
my eyes, life and in real-time. No phones. I needed to see and smell my
father's jizz as it was leaving his piss slit, and there was no way around
that.

***

I honestly was starting to believe I was losing my mind, so the only thing
I could think of doing was to avoid my dad at all costs. I'd take as long
as I could to stay in bed in the mornings, and I'd only emerge to use the
bathroom or eat. Of course, whenever I'd leave my room to do either of
those things, it was almost guaranteed that my dad would at least flash me
his hard cock, if not blatantly show it off to me.

I couldn't believe how he always seemed to be on the verge of
cumming. There was no way he knew when I was going to emerge from my room,
so did that mean he was always just keeping himself on the edge? The very
idea of that made me dizzy and anxious.

I tried desperately to get my fix from my cache of videos. But even the
most horrible video of all, of Dad marking my room with his precum,
couldn't satiate me.

So I was about to give up. I had spent hours in my room thinking of how I
could manage this. I was about to ask Dad for help, to ask for one more
video, to help me get over it and move on. I was about to broach the
unbroachable topic. I'd steeled myself, headed out into the hall, and
opened the door to my room.

But as soon as I stepped outside, I heard my father's voice coming from his
room. I crept slowly, listening to his deep voice as he spoke into a phone.

"That's right. Four nights should do it."

Who was he talking to? I felt my cock start to wake up, stiffen. That made
me upset-usually my cock knew before I did when Dad was about to make a
move.

"Just one bed. Queen. Thanks."

I reached the door to his room, which was slightly ajar. I pushed it open
and?

There was my dad. Fully dressed. For once, he looked like his old self, the
man I knew before this whole shit storm started from that stupid mistake
text message.

"Hey kiddo," he said, smiling big at me. "I was just about to come and get
you. I've got good news."

He paused, smiling at me. I stared, open mouth, unable to speak. Because as
my father had started to speak to me, his hand had grabbed the sizable lump
in his jeans, snaking down his thigh.

"We're going on a bit of a vacation, son," he said to me, tracing his
finger around the visible line of the head of his cock. "Just you and me."

***

I tried not to psyche myself out too much on the drive up. It was a long
drive, and I was so hard and horny, but I'll admit, fucking nervous.

The hotel purchase had been an impulse buy. I was so frustrated that my son
had put an end to our game, I wasn't thinking clearly. I wanted to set him
up for the most difficult moment in the game, but in doing so, I've set
myself up for a challenge as well.

I'm not worried I'll have any trouble getting creative about this
weekend-my mind is already swimming with ideas. What scares me is that I
don't know where this is going to end up. This feels final-the two of us,
alone, for 72 hours, in a single room with one bathroom. Neither of us have
acknowledged any of this game, and that's going to become virtually
impossible within the next three days.

Because I plan on ramping things up. I'm still not going to give my son
exactly what he wants. I suspect that he'd do ANYTHING right now just to be
in the same room, with a clear view of my cock, as I jizzed. He might want
more than that (or might not know he wants more than that), but for now, I
plan to keep that full prize still slightly out of reach, at least for the
first day.



Finally we pulled up to the hotel.I had my son wait in the car while I
checked us in - I didn't need to be getting weird looks from the
receptionist about why we only needed one queen bed.

Of course, I had to have some pretence for this vacation to keep the
obvious one throbbing just under the surface. So I'd told my son we'd be
doing some hiking and exploring around the area, which is just what we did
after we'd checked in and dropped off our bags.

I like to think my son thought perhaps we were going to treat things as
normal until we got off the highway, which is when I finally decided to
fish out my erection and start throbbing.

Over the past few days, I'd become so comfortable edging myself in front of
my son, I didn't even feel nervous as I whipped it out. My son, however,
was obviously having a harder time adjusting to this behavior. Perhaps it
was because he was trapped with me in a moving car, but the sight of my big
prick stopped my son in mid-sentence, even though he must have known it was
coming.

It was hard not to laugh during our hiking trip, since my son was pretty
much unable to make much conversation without getting distracted by my
exposed dick. The only time I put my cock away was when we heard other
people coming down the trail, which only happened four times throughout the
long day of hiking.

I have to admit, it felt amazing edging while hiking with my boy,
sychronizing my strokes on my cock with the pace of our hike. I of course
was leaking precum like a son of a much, and I always made a big show of
flinging it into the dirt, knowing I was breaking my son's heart by doing
so.

God, it was hard not to cum. At this point, I'd been edging for days
nonstop, and the build up in my balls was unbearable. I had my reasons of
course - I'd need quite a few hearty loads this weekend, and of course my
son must have known I was dying to cum. After all, he spent so much time
staring at my package, he must be able to recognize the signs that his
father's cock is ready to cum - the swollen redness, the extreme hardness,
the gyration of my bull nuts. All of that accentuated by the new cock ring
I'd gotten.

By the time we got back to our room, I was exhausted. All I wanted to do
was bust a nut and go to sleep, but I knew I hat to time it right.

I told my boy to get ready for bed, and I stripped down to my underwear. I
was happy to see the shiny precum spot very visible where the head of my
cock sneaked around over my left hip. The bulge was obscene, and I wouldn't
have been able to stop myself rubbing it through the fabric if I had wanted
to.

I flopped down on the bed and looked at my son, who had now changed into a
comfy set of running shorts and a t-shirt.

He turned around to look at me, and as he did, I pulled out so it could
ooze at him while I spoke.

"Hey kiddo, I'm pretty beat, but I think I need a nightcap before bed." I
nodded my chin at the bottle of bourbon I'd brought along, which was
sitting by the TV. "I need some ice though, and you're more decent than I
am. Can you run down the hall and get some?"

My son let out a cartoonish gulp, and didn't say anything for several
seconds. I could see the emotion in his eyes as they were locked on to my
exposed cock head. Despite the fact that it was clearly my cock that was
ruining his life, I could see the fear in his eyes that he would have to
let my dick out of his sight.

There was nothing he could do. What excuse could he come up with that
wouldn't bring his desire and fear to the surface - something he was
clearly unable to do? The ice machine was only just at the end of the hall,
and we were on vacation.

My son obviously came to the same conclusion, and so, after taking in a
shaky breath, he grabbed the ice bucket and walked to the door. I could
tell he was trying (and failing) to be casual, and as soon as I heard the
door shut, I heard his padded footsteps take off at a sprint.

I didn't mind though. I'd been planning for this moment all day. Without
even having to really stroke myself more earnestly than I already was, I
unleashed my load. My cock was so ready, it's probably the fastest I've
ever reached orgasm without the help of someone else.

And Jesus, what a load. As soon as I saw it coming out of my cock, I knew
all the torture I'd put myself through was worth it. This wasn't a load -
it was a gallon.

The first few squirts came out of my cock like a firehose, spraying my hip
and, thankfully, my son's side of the bed. I let out a little laugh as I
thought of the cum sinking in there, and slightly adjusted my cock up my
body.

That's when my orgasm started in earnest - those first few spurts were just
warning shots. I let out a groan as my balls really started to empty
themselves, moving on from the "spray everywhere" stage to the more earnest
ropes of thick, white cum.

These shot up my stomach, chest, and neck, hosing down my hairy body. As I
finished off my groan, that's when I heard my son's steps racing back down
the hall.

But it was perfect - too late for him. Just a I heard the hotel lock beep
and the door open, my cock drooled out its very last shot, now laying flat
against my cum-covered stomach.

"Did you get the ice?" I asked, still panting.

"D-Dad?" he said, stepping into the room threshold between the front
hallway and the bedroom.

And just before he stepped into the main bedroom area, I leaned over and
switched off my light.

"I'm too tired for that drink after all," I grumbled. "Just hop into bed
and let's go to sleep."



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