VINTAGE COLLEGIATE
I was cleaning out the dusty attic when I found the old box. The second I opened it, that thick vintage smell hit me — old paper, faint cologne, and something masculine that made my cock twitch. Inside were stacks of black-and-white photos of my dad when he was my age.
Fuck… he looked just like me. Boyish face, messy hair, killer body. In one he was wearing a letterman jacket and slacks, looking all preppy and cocky.
In another he was in a tight wrestling singlet, holding up a little chalkboard that said “THE WRESTLER – Property of Factory Athletic Club.”
But the one that destroyed me was him in nothing but a tiny white speedo, flexing for the camera, abs tight and bulge heavy.
I couldn’t help it. I pulled my dick out right there in the attic and started stroking, staring at the photos of young Dad.
“Goddamn… you were such a slut for the camera,” I whispered, jerking faster. I imagined pushing that younger version of him down, making him suck my cock while still wearing that singlet. I wanted to fuck him raw in that speedo, make him moan like a whore for his own son.
I was so lost in it I didn’t hear the footsteps.
“Looks like you found my old modeling pictures,” Dad’s deep voice said behind me.
I froze, hand still wrapped around my throbbing cock. He stepped closer, still handsome and muscular even in middle age. He looked down at the photos, then at my hard dick, and smirked.
“You look just like me back then,” he said, voice getting low and rough. “Boyish. Hot. Horny as fuck.”
“You’re the reason I’m gay, Dad,” I breathed. “You’re so fucking hot in these.”
Dad dropped to his knees in front of me, eyes dark with lust. “Then let me help my boy out.”
He wrapped his warm mouth around my cock and started sucking me like a pro. I groaned loud, grabbing his hair. I kept looking back and forth between the photos of young Dad and the real one sucking me off right now — two versions of the same stud. The smell of those old pictures filled my nose while Dad’s hot, wet throat squeezed my dick.
“Fuck… you looked so good in that speedo,” I moaned, fucking his mouth harder. “Bet you let the photographer fuck you, didn’t you?”
Dad moaned around my cock, sucking even sloppier. I couldn’t hold it. I shoved deep down his throat and came hard, shooting thick ropes straight into his mouth while the scent of old paper and my dad’s spit filled my lungs.
He swallowed every drop, then pulled off with a wet pop, licking his lips.
“Still tastes as good as when you were younger, huh?” I panted.
Dad grinned up at me, wiping his mouth.
“Keep looking at those pictures, son. We’ve got all afternoon.”
I couldn’t help it. I pulled my dick out right there in the attic and started stroking, staring at the photos of young Dad.
“Goddamn… you were such a slut for the camera,” I whispered, jerking faster. I imagined pushing that younger version of him down, making him suck my cock while still wearing that singlet. I wanted to fuck him raw in that speedo, make him moan like a whore for his own son.
I was so lost in it I didn’t hear the footsteps.
“Looks like you found my old modeling pictures,” Dad’s deep voice said behind me.
I froze, hand still wrapped around my throbbing cock. He stepped closer, still handsome and muscular even in middle age. He looked down at the photos, then at my hard dick, and smirked.
“You look just like me back then,” he said, voice getting low and rough. “Boyish. Hot. Horny as fuck.”
“You’re the reason I’m gay, Dad,” I breathed. “You’re so fucking hot in these.”
Dad dropped to his knees in front of me, eyes dark with lust. “Then let me help my boy out.”
He wrapped his warm mouth around my cock and started sucking me like a pro. I groaned loud, grabbing his hair. I kept looking back and forth between the photos of young Dad and the real one sucking me off right now — two versions of the same stud. The smell of those old pictures filled my nose while Dad’s hot, wet throat squeezed my dick.
“Fuck… you looked so good in that speedo,” I moaned, fucking his mouth harder. “Bet you let the photographer fuck you, didn’t you?”
Dad moaned around my cock, sucking even sloppier. I couldn’t hold it. I shoved deep down his throat and came hard, shooting thick ropes straight into his mouth while the scent of old paper and my dad’s spit filled my lungs.
He swallowed every drop, then pulled off with a wet pop, licking his lips.
“Still tastes as good as when you were younger, huh?” I panted.
Dad grinned up at me, wiping his mouth.
“Keep looking at those pictures, son. We’ve got all afternoon.”
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