When I was still at home, my mother gave Daddy a hard time full of accusations and reproaches because of his alleged lazyness, stupidity and impotence. I hated this, because I loved my father truely and I found that he was a good man. I found him sometimes sitting in the kitchen and it hurt me to see him so sad and depressed. I went to him, laid my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek and his neck saying: „I really love you, Daddy. If nobody wants you, we bunk off, the two of us.“

„I’ve always known, you are my big boy.“

My father was six feet and strong as a grizzly, whereas myself I was smaller, weak, skinny and wore big glasses, that gave me a nerdy look. So much for the big boy. My mother hated me because I looked like everything she hated.

„When you need some comfort, just come to me.“

Some days later she had dissappeared. Probably with some other guy, probably with her boss, the boss of the trucker’s union. It was one of the happiest days in my life: Good Riddance! Now I had my Daddy all for myself.

I helped him to manage the household chores. I cooked for him - more or less successfully - I washed the laundry and more and more I felt like a hausfrau, especially when I got the admiring and grateful glances from him. My former pals were completely out of my mind. My only pal was Daddy.

One day in August I almost couldn’t sleep because it was such a hot night. In summer I always slept naked because of the heat. In spite of the electric fan beside my bed, I managed to get rid of the blankets in my sleep so the air draught could hit my whole body with its cool breeze. I wasn’t wide awake but I wasn’t asleep either, when I suddenly felt a presence beside my bed. I didn’t believe in ghosts, so it could only be Daddy. I pretended to be in deep sleep and after a while I felt his tender hand stroking with utmost caution my cheeks and shoulders. His hand wandered to my chest and tummy. He relished the soft, moist young skin he barely touched. I could feel so much love in his hesitant touch. He really loved me.

I moaned a little like still in sleep, what made him take away his loving hand immediately. I sprawled and moved my sleeping position in order to show him the body parts, where I was most longing for tenderness. Stroking down my back, he arrived at my booty, which made me moan softly, waking up softly, discovering him sitting at my bedside. I grabbed his hand and murmured: „You are so tender, Daddy. Please don’t stop now.“

He went on to caress my penis and my flaccid ballbag and my penis had grown bigger constantly in the last few seconds. Daddy curled his hand round the penis and softly began to move it up and down as my breath also became faster. I almost couldn’t quite grasp the bliss that my Daddy’s hand gave me.

„Oh, Daddy, you are so tender. You do me so good. I’ve always fancied your strong hand doing that. I never could have dreamed that you really do it. I wish I could do the same for you.“ All of this I wanted to tell him now, but everything that came out of my mouth was a hoarse and grating, grating and grateful "Aaaaaaaawwww!!! "

I felt the waves of beguiling excitemant pulsing through my veins as the wonderful hand drove me closer towards the ultimate orgasm. Probably the worldwide only boy orgasm aroused by his own father. - Well, probably not.

I reared towards his hand and spread my legs wide not to be in the way of his final motions. I couldn’t help but moaning loudly: „Daddy, you’re such a wonderful man! I love you more than anything in the world!“ (For the exact pronunciation see explanations above.)

He felt the orgasm and the little squirt arriving and covered my penis with his lips to suck the splash of sperm with much pleasure into his mouth and swallowed sighing with relief and joy as I also sighed with relief and joy. He took me in his strong arms and kissed away the tears that I have shed underway.