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Dad and me ! 2

by gpl


A month has passed since I beat my father. That day when I felt his python biceps and his hard rock abs. I sigh at the memory; that day at night I felt awful for what I did, but it was all over.
My father pretended that nothing had happened, but I still could see the bruises on his torso and his face, let’s not even think of his dick. Now, being excited in front of him felt weird, it wasn’t as before, when he could see me excited and I could see him. Now, even flexing in front of him felt weird. Now, I always wear a shirt at home blaming it on the winter.
Once in a while, I felt the urge of touching his biceps, but I just end up slapping his back and stretching my legs not allowing him to see my groin. I still love his fucking ripped body, but I’m ashamed of touching it now.
“Now, kid,” he sometimes tells me. “Let’s see those rock hard abs,” he says flexing his abs, but I just let out a groan. “Not today,” I tell him, and he just blushes.
At night, I am getting ready to go to sleep. I see myself on the mirror and see my harder abs and my seemingly bigger biceps. I miss showing my rock hard body at home. I miss not being embarrassed in showing I’m excited.
“I was like you when I was your age,” I hear a voice from behind. I quickly cover my nipples with the shirt on my hand.
“I saw that nipples before. And I’ve always wanted to twist them,” he says as he crosses his arms and flexes his pecs one by one. I blush quickly.
“Dad?” I say not knowing what’s happening. He’s my Dad! What would he be able to do with his own son?
“Son? Are you afraid?” I see he has a piece of wood on his hand. I shiver slightly. He extends his arms and I see the perfect eight pack forming on his belly. I want to touch him! Now! But I stop myself.
“Do you what you want with this bod!” he says. I see clearly he’s excited. And I’m getting excited, too. He flexes his bicpes, pecs, and abs all in one movement, and I feel my dick growing and my foot giving a step further.
“He’s your dad!” I think. I realize the shirt is now on the floor. My torso is completely uncovered.
“What’s that piece of wood for?” I ask him stopping my feet from going any further. He winks.
“Touch my abs!” he says and lifts the piece of wood as if to hit me. I quickly get to him and pass my hand over his abs. He groans a little. I just smile. He smiled and hugs me. I love the feeling of his skin against mine. He slaps my back and passes his hand over it.
“I love your back, son!” he says “You remember me of myself as a youngster,” I love how he passes his hand over my back, but then, I remember he’s my father.
“I think that’s enough for a day,” I say quickly taking the piece of wood from his hand. He just smiles as he blushes.
“Give me a hug, son,” he says. For the first time, I notice I’m on my underwear. He can see my dick. I just laugh. He’s you father, I think, but it can’t stop me. I walk to him and hugged him. I’m a little taller now.
He passes his hand over my abs as I flex to let him know how hard my abs are. He kisses me in the forehead and the hugging stops.
“Son, can I ask you a question?” he says when I’m at bed already. I’ve decided I’m going to sleep only on my underwear.
“Yeah?” I say pretending everything’s good.
“I saw your abs, kid,” he says as he passes his own hand over his eight pack. “What about a punch?”
I hesitate for a moment. My groin’s doing it again. I smile. I see the same dimple on my face on his cheek.
“Ok,” I say and take away the quilt and stand up. I clap and relax all my muscles.
“How are you doing with girls, boy?” he says as he prepares his fist.
“Pretty good, they asked me what had happened me on my face,” Ooooh! Maybe I didn’t have to say that. He stops for a moment.
“What did you say?”
“I said I fought with a boy,” I say as I wink. He takes my hands away and runs his hand on my abs. The embarrassement is away again. I can see his groin, too. He slaps my abs and I hear the sex-arousing sound of his hand over my ripped abs.
The punch comes, but I feel nothing. “My turn,” I hear myself saying. He flexes his abs, and before knowing what I’m doing, I kiss his abs, right in the middle.
He smiles. I feel sweat on his belly. I punch his abs as hard as I can. He doesn’t flinch. He lowers his pants a little and I can see the V of his lower abs. The red mark on his abs grows red. He reminds me of the king of the jungle. The perfect man. I saw that movie; George of the Jungle, but I never imagined my Dad was hotter than George.
He smiles and takes my hand away. He takes my arm where my bicep should be. I flex a little; an almost imperceptible flex. He smiles.
“This is all for today,” he says. I sigh because I want this to continue.
“Good night,” I say and walk forward as if to give him a hug. The feeling’s back. I want to fuck his muscles until he can’t flex. I hug him; our torsos together. I slap him on the back. We’re both turned on.
But just before I get away he punches my groin. All the pain spreads over my balls and then to my stomach. I fall to the ground and curl into a ball. My father is over me. His hot body over mine. He passes his hand on my pecs as I can see pleasure on his eyes. He makes a claw on my pecs. I try to free them, but his grip is too strong. He groans and clutches my pecs even more. I scream. He punches my pecs and my abs; I flex but it’s getting more difficult each time.
“Flex kid!” he tells me. I flex my abs as he passed his hand over. He leans and kisses me on my cheek. He takes my both wrists on his gigantic hand and puts them over my head. I wrestle, but it’s futile.
“Let’s do this a true wrestle,” he says as he unbottons his pants with one hand, the other still clutching my writs painfully. He takes off his pants and stays only in Speedos. He punches my abs quickly. I can’t cover them. I see the red marks on it, but I am enjoying it.
He knows I’m enjoying it, and he’s enjoying it too. Maybe too much for a father and a son. He lets me go. I cough a little and pass my hand over my flexed, perfect abs. He puts his giant bicep on my neck and presses. He laughs as I try to get out. I touch his rock hard biceps, but he’s not going to give way. I began to cough louder. He puts his legs on my abs in a quick movent and takes my two hands. He presses as hard as he can. My abs are in pain, but I always flex.
I can feel his sweating body on my back. I slap his legs for him to stop it, but he doesn’t stop.
“I’m making you a man, kid!” he says and presses even more. I knew this was going to happen. I knew it! He’s my father. I feel weird by the way he’s grabbing me. I’m not turned on anymore.
“STOP IT!” I tell him, but he doesn’t stop. He just presses even more. I remember as a kid, with my faint abs, how he had touched them everytime and how he had let me touch his perfect body.
He likes abs; he likes abs the same as I do. We always watched the WWE torunaments together. I did love John Cena’s abs, and I wished with touching them as a child. He liked Batista. On our room, we had posters of them everywhere. We pretended to wrestle; obviously, he always let me win; but it was different now.
“If you try my abs,” I said between groans “I have to try yours!”
“You already have! A month ago!” he laughs. He sits down and lets me out. He sits at my side. He sits down with his back stretched. He reminds me of Batista; his perfect abs and the tatoo on his navel. He had had a punching partner at high school.
“So, kid,” he says and slaps my abs. I flex. He sees the red spot on my abs and turns on again. I just imagine John Cena’s abs and turn on again. He looks at me and smiles. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but he closed it again.
I breathe hard. Was that all? I thought it would be more painful, well, after all, I’m his son.
“Oil?” he asks. I just nod. I’m the first one. I flex my biceps. He notices they’re bigger. He gives a slight kiss and passes through my pecs to my awesome abs. He lowers my boxers a little, but it was just to oil the V of my lower abs. He finishes and I do the same to him. I lower his Speedos and oil the V.
I breathe hard. He fixes his eyes on my chest. He slaps my chest and before I can realize what’s happening, he puts his hand on my thigh and the other on my shoulder. The next moment I’m on the floor gasping for air. He gets over me again and punches my abs quickly not giving time for air. I groan as I put my hands under my butt and lift my head a little to help my abs flex. I know I’m all sweaty, my face red and my hair wet with sweat.
He laughs and slaps my abs.
“I never thought I’d have a kid like that,” he says and slaps my abs. I see his handsome face as he bites his lower lip and takes away the sweat from his forehead. He’s right over me, and I have the perfect idea. The weakest part of a man!
I lift my knee and kick his balls as hard as I had ever before. He groans. The perfect groan which is music to my ears. I sit at his side. My body all sweaty. I don’t consider myself the most muscular on my class. I’m skinny, but I’m strong enough to beat a man like my father.
I touch his perfect, round pecs and begin to choke him feeling his Adam’s apple on my palm. He coughs and I stop. His abs seem so hard and so muscular, but first I touch his biceps again. The daydream of all the boys, though they always keep it secret, is to touch biceps as my father’s. I touch them, and he makes his best to flex, just to not disappoint his son. I laugh and flex right in front of him. I make sure he can see every inch of my body and I groan as I flex. It turns him on.
Before he can stand up, I punch him on his groin again. His abs are red, but I want them to be more red. I punch fist followed by fist just as he had punched me before. He lifts his head a little to help his sexy, perfect abs. I hear the groans with his deep voice. It turns me on. I punch his chest... One, two, three… I lost count after thirteen. Now, he’s raw red. I had been waiting for this moment for a month. Now, I know I don’t care my father watching me like this.
“I’ve grown, Dad,” I tell him. “I’m a man now!” I say and sit down. “See this? I say flexing my bicep. This is what beat you today!” I laugh and I see he’s trying to stand up so I punch his groan again. He covers his dick and cries. I just look at him with a smile on my face.
One more. I take his hands out and punch his abs as hard as I can. Right on the tatoo. He wasn’t flexing. He coughs and coughs. I put my hand over his abs just to feel the mountains of the muscles as he coughs. Maybe I’m sadistic, just maybe… But I love that dude.
“I love you,” I tell him again and pass my hand over his perfect body. Biceps, pecs, abs, legs and the last part… I am hesitating before I put my hand over his groin.
“Tonight, you’ll sleep here!” I tell him and punch my abs with my own fist just to show him how hard my abs are now, and how soft his abs are in comparison with mine. Maybe I am becoming the king of the jungle now.
I walk to his bedroom; just before his bedroom, there’s a mirror. For the firt time, I realize how good-looking I am. And how I resemble my dad on his pictures. I flex in front of the mirror and comb my wet hair to the side.
I walk to my father again who is lying on the floor and I kiss his cheek wishing him good night.
On his room, the first picture I see is the picture of Batista and the second one, is the picture of John Cena. I daydream that night on how I would destroy Cena’s abs. I am going to meet him one day, but meanwhile, I’ll just destroy my father. That night, I dream I am touching my father’s biceps and I destroy him again.