“You horny, bud?” I asked my son as I drove.
I had always encouraged openness about sex and masterbation. I didn’t want him to feel the shame my parents made me feel. When he started college he told me all about his sex life and we even stroked a few times swapping stories.
“It just won’t go down,” he said gripping it.
“We got about twenty minutes if you need to take care of it,” I told him, feeling my own growing.
“Thanks, Dad,” he said and pulled down his shorts, revealing his dick.
I snuck glances as I tried to focus on the road as I watched my son slowly work his dick in his hand. I can’t explain the pride of seeing what a nice looking dick he had. The fact that it looked just like mine made me smile every time. He slouched in his seat and took his time. Moving up and down his shaft, really enjoying the feeling of his own hand.
“God, I don’t know what it is about this week but it doesn’t matter how many times I get off I still need more. Do you ever get like that?” My son asked.
“All the time,” I laughed and looked right at him and then down at his dick.
He smirked as he watched his father checking him out. He wasn’t shy and I definitely was enjoying the show.
“You want to touch it?” He asked, surprising me a bit.
“You sure about that?” I asked, knowing that he stayed pretty close to the straight side of life.
“It feels better when someone else does it, maybe it will help calm it down for more than an hour,” he said.
“Or make it worse,” I countered but reached over, of course I wanted to hold my boys cock in my hand.
I gave it a squeeze at first and then fondled his sack. We were getting closer with every mile and I knew I couldn’t take the time I wanted. I wrapped my hand around him and started stroking him slowly. Working his dick in my hand as my own throbbed in my jeans.
“Oh, Dad,” he whispered as I pumped him in my fist.
“That feel good, buddy?” I asked.
“It feels great,” he said, turning to me to see if I was enjoying it too.
I looked in his eyes. He was lost in the feeling. I wished I wasn’t driving so I could really take in the beautiful kid of mine I was getting off.
“Ten minutes,” I reminded him of the time, I had seen how long he could go if I let him.
“Okay, Dad,” he replied and began moving his hips into my fist.
He grabbed hold of my wrist as I kept jacking him, keeping me on his dick and creating an odd intimacy between us. He was squirming and moving all around and I was loving getting him off.
“Five minutes,” I alerted him.
“Oh, Dad. It feels so good with you doing it,” he told me and moved his hand to my leg.
“Yeah? I’m happy to help you, bud,” I replied. “You need to cum soon, I don’t think grandma will understand if we pull up doing this,” I told him.
“Okay, Dad,” he said. “Make me, please.”
“Cum for Daddy,” I said, I wasn’t thinking clearly.
“Oh god,” he moaned. “I’m going to! For you Daddy,” he said and lifted his shirt and sweatshirt.
His dick pulsed and a jet of cum flew from him and covered his stomach, then another right after.
“That’s my boy, get it out,” I said as I milked my son’s cock.
His hand returned to my wrist and squeezed. He was happy that is father was taking care of his needs. I worked my hand up and down him until he was finished. I pulled away and licked a little bit off the back of my hand. I didn’t even care that he saw me do it. I wanted to taste it, and after what I had just done I was sure he wouldn’t care.
“That felt so good, thanks Dad,” he said as we pulled on my mother street.
“Happy to help,” I said and put my hand back on the wheel as he used some napkins from the glovebox to clean up.
I pulled in the driveway and reached into my pants and pointed my dick up and tucked it in my waistband to hide my hard-on. Maybe my son will help me on the way home, if I’m lucky.
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