Not Far from the Tree (ePub)

DESCRIPTION
What should a dad do when he discovers his love for his son has turned into sexual lust? How should a son react when he realizes he wants to have raw man-to-man sex with his dad? Should they fight a futile battle with their desires, or come together to satisfy their mutual need for carnal gratification? Read these seven father/son incest stories to find out the different ways these fathers and sons resolve their dilemma.

EXCERPT
Gunther had fallen asleep on the sofa when he was awakened by the sound of the key in the lock. He sat up as his dad came in, closed the door roughly and dropped his briefcase on the foyer floor with a thud.

When he came into the room it was instantly clear he had drunk too much. In the cab he had tried to take off his tie, but had only succeeded in getting it hanging loosely, tied in a knot. Three buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned, showing body hair underneath. His coat was hanging back off his shoulders at an angle.

He saw Gunther and was taken by surprise, almost as if he had forgotten he was there.

“Oh, hi. What are you doing up? Shouldn’t you be asleep? What time is it?”

“It’s about eleven thirty. I guess I dozed off on the sofa. I just woke up.”

“Oh,” was all Mr. Hart could say.

He pulled at his tie, saying, “Shit.”

Gunther went to him and took the tie from his hands, working the knot loose. He let it hang around his dad’s neck, and stood just inches from him, looking in his eyes.

Mr. Hart placed his arms on Gunther’s shoulders and leaned his head forward and rested it against Gunther’s. Gunther undid another button and slipped his hands into the opening, lightly caressing them over his dad’s chest. He let his fingers slide through his chest hair. He rubbed his thumbs on his dad’s nipples, feeling them harden.

He slowly moved his hands around his dad’s body and felt the muscles in his back, pulling him closer. Mr. Hart let his arms slip down his son’s sides until he was holding him in a tight embrace. He pushed his groin against his son’s until their dicks were pressed together. He stuck out the tip of his tongue and ran it down his son’s nose until he reached his lips.

He gently kissed him and then pushed his tongue between his lips. Gunther opened his mouth and let his dad’s tongue in. He rotated his hips, feeling his hardening dick against his dad’s still soft one.

Like a beam of sunlight breaking through the clouds, a bit of rationality forced its way through the intoxication clouding M. Hart’s mind. He suddenly broke the kiss, and grabbing his son’s arms, thrust him away.

“No,” he said. “No, this isn’t right. This is wrong. This can’t be. We can’t do this.”

He turned toward his bedroom. “Go to your room, Son. You’re right. You have to go. You can’t stay here. You can’t have what you want. No, I can’t have what I want. Keep away from me. Go.”

He staggered down the hall and slammed the bedroom door behind him. Gunther stood confused for a minute, and then went to his room, closed the door and lay on the bed, weeping.