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Getting over my daddy issues


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I feel like the storyline is overdone, but I'm feeling it at the moment. I'm opening with this and seeing how it goes... Enjoy. :)

I've always wondered who my dad was.

My mom made a point of not talking about him. Apparently, my grandparents had always given her shit over the fact that she'd gotten herself pregnant right before graduating high school. It had become a sore point, and she tried not to dwell on all of that. I'd ask about him occasionally when I was a kid, but the result was always the same: a pointed change of subject and snippy responses if I tried to push it any further. Left to wonder about it, I'd concocted theories. Maybe it was one of the neighbors. Maybe it was our pastor. Maybe it was some total stranger. None of these theories were ever backed by any kind of real evidence, but suffice to say, it was something that I'd always dwelled on.

I never had a stepdad or anything. My mom worked at my grandparents' diner, and we both lived in my grandparents' place. Luckily for us, the house had once been home to all 4 of my mom's siblings, so they had room to spare for a single mother and a growing kid. I don't think they did altogether too bad of a job, though my grandpa was always a bit of an asshole. When I finally moved out for college, it was a relief to be out of there, away from my mom and grandma being overbearing and my grandpa finding something to complain about. No one knew who I was here, and I finally had the freedom and privacy to explore and be myself. By this point, I knew fully well I was a cocksucker, having discovered this fact sometime in my early teens after P.E. in the locker rooms.

I'd never really had the room to act on it, though, and now I found myself living on my own and having access to men only a few messages away. It didn't take long for me to meet up with other guys at school, scoring my first kiss and handjob within a few days of each other. It was thrilling, but the prospect of sex was still somewhat daunting. After all, even if I did think my grandparents were prudes, it was hard to get a lifetime of shit out of your head. Luckily for me, I had some help in that direction.

---

He'd come in the form of a guy whose profile was named "Papa's Home". Maybe it makes me a stereotype, but the second I saw the name and the salt and pepper-coated musclegut attached to it, I couldn't stop myself from checking him out. He was more than twice my age, total top, with a penchant for "sons", as he called them. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach as I read it, and I sent him a message, unsure of what to send other than "I love your photo." It was pretty lame, and I felt like an idiot even sending it, but whatever. I figured my profile made up for it enough; I'd spent my summers maintaining my grandparents' place, on top of being naturally gifted with a beefy build. I'd been a chubby kid growing up, but now I was built strong, having taken up weightlifting halfway though high school. I'd never cared enough to be a proper gym rat or the like, but I knew I looked pretty damn good. My profile shot was a beach shot, my furry belly and bearded smile on display. Show your best assets, I figure.

About five minutes later, I feel my phone buzz, then a series of buzzes following. Pulling it up, I see that he's sent me a bunch of photos, and I feel my cock throb in my shorts as I open them up. He's in a speedo, flexing his furry body... An ass shot in the shower... Him grinning with a pint of beer in hand... And a shot of him holding his cock, easily at least seven or eight inches, and girthy from the look of it. I've never imagined taking anything like that, and I almost chicken out then. I finally see the last message.

"Thanks, son. I like yours, too. Nothing makes Papa's day like a handsome boy saying hello."

I send him back some more photos of me, mostly clothed but ending with a shot of me on my stomach in a jockstrap, my fuzzy ass perfectly framed for the camera.

"Fucking beautiful, son. You gotta let Papa have a taste."

We kept chatting over the next half hour, where he convinced me to get my stuff and head over to his place. He lived not far from campus, among the residential neighborhoods only a mile or so from the dorms. I drove to a neighborhood with a bunch of houses nestled away among the trees, the driveways made of gravel more often than not. The address he'd given me led to an old trailer at the end, where I could see him standing outside, beer in hand.

"You made it, son," he said with a smile as I got out of the car, taking me into an embrace as soon as I came up to him. He smelled like beer and sweat, his musk filling my nose and making my head spin as he brought his lips to mine, that massive tongue sliding into my mouth and filling it as his hand cupped my ass. It felt incredible, and even as I reveled in the hunger with which he felt me up, I could feel his cock growing in his jeans, the thick meat rubbing against me. "Get your furry little ass inside. Get on the bed. Clothes off."

I wasted no time in complying, going past the screen door in the front and past a living room with some beers scattered about and porn playing on the TV. The bedroom was mostly just a massive bed in the center, with a TV sitting on a dresser beside it playing more porn. I stripped my clothes, folding them up and putting them onto the dresser as Papa came back in, his shirt already off and belt unbuckled. His furry body was on display for me, glistening a bit with sweat as it was. I climbed onto the bed and he joined me soon after, his naked body coming against mine as he pulled me in for another kiss. This one was slower, more sensual as he ground his cock against me. I could see a steel cockring at the base, and as I moaned into his mouth, relishing the feeling of him kissing me, he soon pulled away, his cock drooling precum onto his thigh. "I gotta get to that hole or I'm gonna lose it," he growled, and pushed my legs back, exposing my furry hole to him. That beard soon buried itself between my cheeks, and I couldn't stop the moans that came out as he began his tonguefuck. It felt amazing, and I pushed back against him, feeling my hole relax and take more and more of his wet, hot tongue.

When he pulled it out, I found myself groaning in protest, craving that tongue once more. "Can't take it, I gotta have you," he said, and before I could even warn him about my lack of experience, he was moving to my ass, positioning his cock on my slicked-up pucker and pushing it in. Much to my surprise, the head went in without too much pain, the discomfort shocking me more than anything as he groaned from the tightness. "There we fuckin' go..."

I was in shock, feeling him pulse and flex in me before pushing in more. Some part of me wondered if this was really happening, another wondered if I ought to point out the lack of a condom, but both were shut up when he slid the rest of his length into me, each veiny inch making me shiver and groan. It began to hurt a bit halfway through, but I'd always been a stubborn boy, and I rode out the pain, feeling him bottom out in me before long.

"Good boy..." He muttered, beginning to hump at my ass. The friction felt uncomfortable at first, but as I got used to it, I found myself enjoying the way it felt to have him fill me up like that, his cock entering me over and over, stroking over my prostate and bringing me pleasure unlike anything I'd felt before. It didn't take long before his panting and grunting was joined by a steady stream of my own whimpers and groans, my cock drooling precum onto my furry belly and smearing it between us as he looked into my eyes intensely.

"You ready to take it, son? Ready for Papa's seed?"

I didn't think twice about nodding, panting heavily as I replied, "Yeah, Papa, give it to me, please!"

His fuck hit a frenzied pace, then he rammed it all the way in, my hole burning a bit from the brutality of it as I felt the heat of his balls unloading into me. His cock pulsed and twitched, draining for several seconds before he slowly hauled it out, my wrecked pucker drooling out his cum. He didn't say much for a second, simply panting and dripping sweat down onto me before rolling over onto his side, pulling my head down to his cock. He didn't need to tell me what he expected, his half-hard cock pushed to my lips. I cleaned it off, tasting his cum and my own ass on him. I found that I loved it, even though I could feel my ass ache from the roughness of my deflowering.

He gave me a beer and let me use his shower, watching me as I got dressed and he lay (still naked) on his bed. Before I left, he gave me his actual phone number, letting me know he'd be happy to repeat any time.

---

Ever since we met, I've found myself checking out older guys more and more. The whole daddy angle intrigued me in a way nothing else did, and there was certainly no shortage of men who were happy to indulge. It had also brought up thoughts of my own dad again, which of course fused together with my newfound tastes in a predictable fashion. I felt kinda guilty about it, but whatever, right? It wasn't like I'd ever met him.

The summer holidays were around the corner, and I'd just wrapped up with classes. With school closed up for the break, I headed back home, finding myself back at my grandparents' place and bored out of my mind. There wasn't actually much to do here, and I found myself passing more time on the couch fiddling with my phone than doing anything else really. One of my uncles threw a party for my aunt's birthday, and of course, we all headed over. It wasn't altogether terrible, though I felt a bit out of place. I knew everyone here but I really only ever talked to them at events like this. After exhausting the pleasantries and catch-up conversations, I wasn't sure what else to talk about. Thus, I found myself at my grandparents' table, sitting beside my grandpa. He was drunk, which was quite unlike him, and of course, it only brought his complaining into overdrive. I mostly ignored it, but his ranting caught my attention. He was arguing with one of my aunts, who'd always been sympathetic to my mom.

"She's the one who spread her legs for him."

"Dad..."

"What? I told her, stay away from O'Connor, he's a damn bastard, she knew better and she still--"

"Dad, enough!" she hissed quietly, gesturing to me. He just scoffed, returning to his drink and glowering. I put this bit of knowledge away, head buzzing with excitement at what it could mean. I hadn't hard that name before, but I was ready to find out more. I headed home not long after, unable to focus on small talk anymore now that I'd been given this scrap of information.

I browsed around with my laptop, pulling up search engines and looking around. Admittedly, it was hard to find much, but I had a stroke of luck when I thought to ask a friend's dad when I was visiting him. He'd gone to school with my mom, and when I mentioned the name, he got a bit cagey. Unlike my family, though, he quickly caved when I pressed him on it, telling me his name was Michael O'Connor. He'd been a few years older than my mom, and had been considered a bad influence. Apparently, he'd gone off and joined the marines, serving for some time before heading back. These days, he didn't know where he lived, though he'd heard that he worked as a trucker.

It was a lot to take in. With that information in hand, it didn't take long to find him. When I'd put his name into Facebook, the third result actually had a mutual friend (one of my mom's friends, who I'd added forever back), and I found myself looking at my father's profile. He didn't lock down much, posting photos of him smoking a cigar with a dog in his lap, another where he's sitting in the cabin of his truck. I feel like a stalker, but I can't help but take it all in. I never thought I'd find out who he was, but now that I looked at it, I could see it. He had the same grin as me, the same chocolate brown eyes, furry chest. The resemblance was obvious.

What to do now was less obvious. I debated sending him a friend request, but that seemed a bit weird. I eventually just settled on sending him a message.

"Hello. Sorry for the message out of the blue, and this is probably going to sound weird, but my name is Chris, and I think I'm your son. You dated my mom, Jennifer Fisher, back in high school, and she had me. I don't want to hassle you or anything, but I'd love to meet you in person if you'd be okay with that."

I felt nervous hitting send, but once it was done, I couldn't stop the excitement buzzing in me. It was really him! I kept scrolling through afterward, taking in the look of him. He had tattoos on his arms, and a good few of the photos had him smoking a cigar or holding a beer in hand. He still lived in the area, though many of the photos from his truck were taken all up and down the coastline. The very thought of a trucker dad made my dick twitch, even as I felt guilty for thinking that way.

I reached the end of his public stuff before long. Most of it was in that vein, though there were occasional photos with a random friend or the like. It was only a small sliver of him, though, and I was eager to find out more. After browsing through his photos for a while, I figured enough was enough. Just as I went to close out the window, the chat box pinged...

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