Summary: Nerd discovers the power his big, fat cock has over women.

Note 1: This is dedicated to the real Jeni who told me about this BIG FAT COCK… although her story doesn’t come until a sequel (if enough people express interest), later on in the sexual journey of our protagonist Kevin.

Note 2: This is a HALLOWEEN 2018 CONTEST STORY so please vote.

Note 3: Thanks to Tex Beethoven, Robert, Wayne and Well_Hung_Well_Off for editing this story.

BIG FAT COCK: A Hot Mommy Seduced

My Dad and I never got along.

Partly because he divorced my Mother after cheating on her with not only her best friend, but also with her sister and her mother… yes that’s right, my father fucked my aunt and grandmother… I would later learn he’d done it often and sometimes at the same time.

Partly because he was a lazy slob that did fuck all, and yet he always had some well-off hot woman giving him her favours and money. I guess you could call him a gigolo, except the arrangements were never formal… he just demanded and got things… and gigolos are supposed to be suave and sophisticated, where he just had the manners of an entitled dickhead.

Partly because he was an athlete, or used to be before the beer gut, where I am no more than a lowly scholar with the athletic ability of a turtle. Brilliant but shy.

Partly because he still treated my Mother like shit, and my Mother let him. I hated watching my pretty, sweet, smart (she was a prominent attorney), normally strong-willed Mother getting treated like shit by him, even after their divorce.

Partly because he was an asshole and had always spent almost no time with me. He was a social butterfly, I was a loner.

Then this past summer, suddenly he wanted to hang out. I rejected his offers for summer camping trips, but in October, a couple months into my senior year at high school (I was already eighteen because I’d originally started school a year late) my Mother reminded me I only had one father. I pointed out that what I had was only one sperm donor so no biggie, which just made her sigh. So to please my Mom, who urged me strongly to give my Dad a chance after he had stopped by, looking flustered with her cheeks red, I assumed they’d had another all-out yell fight like usually happened when he came over. They talked, they disappeared, they yelled, Mom looked flustered and upset, and the cycle continued.

So alas, I found myself at a lake, a mosquito-filled lake of course, in mid-October of all times, with my father and his ridiculously pretty girlfriend, who was only three years older than I and whose daddy owned many hotels, when my Dad and I discovered the greatest secret ever.

I was on the boat with him fishing… which was without a doubt the most boring thing I’d ever done in my life, when I told him, “I’ve got to pee.”

Dad, a beer in one hand and his fishing rod in the other, said, “So? Piss off the edge of the boat.”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Sure, what other option do you have?” He asked.

“We could be civilised and go back to shore,” I suggested.

“Not yet,” he refused. “We haven’t caught our quota.”

“I’m not pissing off the edge of any boat, there are other people on the lake,” I argued.

He shrugged, not caring what I wanted as usual, “Then hold it.”

And I did… for twenty more minutes… but when I again pleaded to return to shore and he again refused my request, I sighed, glaring at him, “Fuck it!” I then stood at the edge of the boat, pulled down my shorts and started pissing.

It felt so good to finally release it, because of having such a full bladder almost as good as my orgasms when I jerked off (which I did at least twice a day), when I was startled by my Dad exclaiming, “Holy shit, you at least inherited one good thing from me!”

“What?” I asked, even as I kept pissing and looking at my father, who was staring at my cock while I pissed. It was fucking weird.

“You have a big, fat dick too, my boy,” he approved, looking proud of me for the first time ever.

“Why are you perving on my pissing?” I asked, as I continued the longest piss in world history.

“I’m not perving,” he denied, “I’m just glad to see that my son has indeed become a man.”

“Well, stop staring, it’s creepy,” I objected, as my marathon urination began trickling to an end.

“Nothing wrong with admiring what my son is packing,” he told me.

“This is so weird,” I complained, finally putting my dick away.

“You have no idea what a blessing it is for you to have a dick that large,” he pontificated, as he stood up and pulled down his sweats.

“Dad, what are you doing?” I objected as I looked away.

“Showing you that we at last have something in common,” he explained, seeming to be excited about it.

“We both have dicks; wow, thanks Dad,” I dismissed sarcastically.

He sighed, like he always did when he was disappointed in me, which was often, “Kevin, stop being a wuss. Seeing another guy’s dick isn’t a big deal.” He then added, roaring with laughter at his own version of wit, “Except this time it is a big deal. Now check me out.”

“I’m good,” I said, looking away, grossed out by this entire conversation.

“Now!” he ordered, using the authoritarian tone he used when he was pissed off and demanding to be listened to.

“Fine,” I agreed reluctantly, hoping the sooner I looked at his dick, the sooner this stupid conversation would be over. I looked over and saw that his dick was almost identical to mine.

“See? You inherited my dick,” he said, “and then some,” waving his big cock around with no shame. He was right, his was almost as big as mine.

“Does that mean I also inherit your ability to be a dick all the time?” I asked sarcastically.

My father ignored my sarcasm as he answered, “Actually, it does.”

“Really?” I asked, even as he put his dick away, which was admittedly quite big, although not quite as big as mine, and tossed out his line to try for another fish.

“You know how the girl with the biggest tits, the nicest ass or the prettiest face gets all the attention from the guys?” he asked as we sat there with our lines in the water doing nothing.

“Yeah,” I nodded, knowing all too well the hierarchy that was high school.

“The same thing can happen to you once the sluts know what you’re packing down below,” he explained.

“Yeah, sure,” I laughed, knowing how ignored I was by the cheerleaders, the athletes and, well, almost every girl around, truth be told. I was also disgusted by his disrespect for women by using the term ‘sluts’ instead of ‘girls’ or ‘women’, or even the not much better ‘babes’.

“I’m serious,” he said. “How do you think I get all the hot chicks?”

“Blackmail or cash,” I speculated, only somewhat joking. Actually, I’d always wondered about the answer to that exact question. I mean my Dad used to be an athlete and in shape, but he was hardly a catch now… not to mention he always behaved like a sexist asshole.

He laughed, “You’re not the first one to assume that. Nope, it’s all about dick size.”

“So you just stroll around getting women because of how big you are?” I asked. Although the idea sounded stupid and superficial, I was already well aware that most girls were superficial and sometimes stupid, and this could be the answer to one of the greatest mysteries I had yet to figure out…how my Dad got gorgeous woman after gorgeous woman. This year alone he’d dated a cheerleader from the Patriots, a model who was on the cover of lots of fashion magazines, and now a hot young bombshell who had more money than most movie stars.

“It’s sure not my witty personality,” he admitted, making a joke for once.

“That I can believe,” I agreed.

“Look, I know I’ve been a shitty father, but now we have something in common, which means that now I can finally give you some fatherly advice, and good advice even,” he said, looking excited about his son for the first time ever. Usually such excitement was reserved for the Patriots, Red Sox, Celtics or Bruins.

“About how to use a big cock?” I asked sardonically.

“Exactly,” he beamed. After a pause, he asked, “Are you still a virgin?”

My face suddenly burning red likely giving him his answer, as I didn’t say anything.

He chuckled, “No worries son, that is going to change very, very soon.”

He actually called me ‘son’! He never called me son. It was either Kevin or dumb-ass, but never son.

But I only answered with, “I doubt it.”

“My boy, everything has just changed. Now that I know you’re like me down there, the whole world is about to open up for you.”

“I don’t see how,” I said, still skeptical, but also becoming intrigued, “even if you’re right, which I’m not saying you are, it’s not like I can just announce at school: ‘Hey everybody, guess what I have.'”

“Actually you can,” he disagreed, before adding, “or wait for word of mouth to do the job once someone finds out.”

“Whatever,” I scoffed, still finding this conversation bizarre and trying to hide my own curiosity about his theory. Plus, even though I didn’t realize it until now, I did like discovering something in common… deep down I’d always wanted my Dad to see me as his son, not just as his sperm deposit mistake.

“I’ll prove how powerful a big, fat cock can be,” he said, at last putting his boring fishing rod away and cranking up the boat.

“How?” I asked, being drawn in by his confidence.

“It’ll be better if I show you,” he put me off, and headed the boat back to shore. I had no idea what he was thinking, but as the boat surged loudly across the water, it was no longer easy to carry on a conversation.

Once we were on the shore he ordered, “Leave the shit in the boat and come with me.”

Being relatively lazy myself (something else I had inherited from my father… LOL), and by now quite curious about my Dad’s promise of demonstrating his point to me, I followed him off the boat and back to the cabin… which, by the way, was twice the size of the house I currently lived in with my Mom.

Once we’d gone inside, Dad ordered his newest girlfriend, who by the way was dressed in a bikini top, a short skirt and some much-appreciated pantyhose (which made no sense at the lake, but which prompts a detour in my story). I appreciated her apparel because I have a massive nylon fetish. This is because of my hot Mom, who wore them every day of her life. She wore them when she was dressed for work, under her jeans, even under her robe in the morning or before bed, which was always something I never understood but nevertheless got off on looking at. My Mom’s legs and feet in nylons were one of my three biggest jerk off fantasies, the other two being our high school’s huge-busted but bitch of a principal; I often fantasized just shutting her up with my cock in her mouth or sodomizing her ass (I can’t explain it, but I am way more intrigued by anal sex than vaginal), and my third jerk off fantasy was to somehow turn my lesbian English teacher straight; she being such a feminist that I often imagined shutting her up with my dick, too.

Now, where was I? Oh yes, my Dad was ordering his girlfriend to “Go get our shit out of the boat.”

“Sure, honey,” she agreed, setting down her cocktail, sauntering over and giving him a kiss while my Dad mauled her ass, before heading out.

No please, no thank you, just ‘Go get our shit out of the boat,’ and it got done. I joked, “Nice manners, Dad. You’re a real gentleman.”

“Sluts don’t want manners, they want a man who’s in control and who has a big, fat cock.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, shaking my head at this ridiculous sexist philosophy… which I was sure he actually believed.

“You mock me now,” he said, “but wait and see. Women will do almost anything for a big, fat cock.”

“In the porn movies, sure,” I agreed, having watched a lot of porn on the internet and indeed noticing that I was bigger than almost every porn star, and that women seemed completely hypnotized by the size of their cocks… in porn the bigger the better seeming actually to be true.

“Trust me, it’s psychological,” he said.

Unable to help I myself, I taunted him, “Can you even spell that word?”

After a pause he shrugged, “Probably not, but I have done a lot of research to prove my point.”

“You should write your Master’s,” I joked.

“Funny you should say that,” he chuckled.

“What? Why?” I asked. No way my Dad would ever be academically qualified enough to get his Master’s, or a college degree of any kind… he admitted he’d only managed to get his high school diploma because of his athletics.

“Because I’m a Master to a lot of women,” he said.

“Of course you are,” I responded, making it clear I wasn’t buying any of his bullshit… I mean that’s what he did all the time… talk bullshit.

“You’ll see,” he said. “Why do you think a hot, wealthy girl like Portia is not only out here with me, but willingly doing menial tasks like getting our shit out of the boat?”

“Because she’s as dumb as they come,” I said, the majority of his women being as bright as a ten-watt bulb.

“Actually she’s attending Harvard,” he said. “Third year. Biochemistry.”

“No way,” I scoffed, that just not seeming possible. She looked and spoke like a bimbo.

“True story,” he nodded, “she’s as brilliant as you are, yet she flew out here just to be my slut for the weekend. And she paid for the cabin rental.”

“No way,” the idea too ludicrous to be true, yet why else would she be here with someone twice her age… with a guy who was a four at best, while she was a twelve out of ten.

He ignored my response and continued, “But all chicks, smart or dumb, feminist or not, get weak in the knees at the sight of a big, fat cock.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I repeated, still not buying his bullshit… his entire life had been full of bullshit.

“You’re a genius, right?” He asked.

“I’m in the top ten percent,” I shrugged, although it was really more like the top one percent, but I wasn’t a blowhard asshole like someone else in the room.

“What happens to your Mensa brain when you see a hot girl, a big pair of tits or you’re watching porn?” he asked.

I didn’t respond right away, as he’d finally made a point I couldn’t argue against. Once the blood started rushing into my lower head, my upper head changed. I wasn’t as smart, but in my fantasies I became a much different person… suddenly in a stunning flash of dismayed clarity I realized I became just like my father… dominant and smug… both things I wasn’t in real life. Well, even at normal times I could be smug around people I found insipid.

“Exactly,” he said, reading my mind. “Women aren’t as different from men as society would like us to think. They like sex, but they’re not supposed to admit it. They crave big cocks like we crave big tits. In the end, behind the façade of propriety is the truth: given the opportunity, most women have an inner slut who wants to come out and play.”

“And your big dick provides that opportunity?” I asked, only partially sarcastic.

“Almost every woman will indeed take the opportunity once they know what I have,” he bragged.

“Just the sluts,” I countered, not able to fathom any classy woman falling for his malarkey, even though some of the women he’d been with since the divorce had seemed classy… at least at first.

“Is your Mother a slut?” he asked.

“Huh?” I asked. I was stunned he would have the gall to ask that. Since he left us Mom hadn’t dated anyone. She was anything but a slut, and he knew I would support her over him every time.

“Do you know I still fuck your Mother?” he asked, a smug smile on his face.

“No way,” I denied, even though I could see he was telling the truth. He was too arrogant to lie: he was who he was and if he said something you didn’t like, tough shit.

“She still even dresses the way I expect her to,” he added.

“The nylons,” I said, instantly knowing, having noticed that his women were always in nylons, but somehow had never made the connection it was his doing. For a smart guy, I can be pretty dumb sometimes.

“You noticed,” he nodded. “It’s my thing.”

Before I even had time to think, I acknowledged we had something else in common as I added, “Mine too.”

“Cool: like father, like son,” he said, before adding, “you see, once you give a woman the fucking she craves with a big, fat dick like the ones we have, she can never say no to you.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I have fucked a woman on her wedding day, both before and after her forever ‘I do’s’. I have fucked a church minister’s wife and daughter while he was giving a sermon. I have fucked more than one woman while her small-dicked husband watched, and I have fucked your Mother in dozens of wild places, including in the ass at your debate championship,” he listed proudly.

“You did what?” I asked, astounded, in awe of his list of crazy shit, but blown away at hearing him say he fucked Mom’s ass, and worse yet while they were supposed to be watching me as I won State.

“No offense son, but debate championships are the most boring things ever,” he said.

I wasn’t surprised he’d ditched it, but Mom had too, and to get her ass fucked???

Finally I said it, my tone one of disbelief, “You sodomize Mom?”

“Never used the word sodomize, but yeah she loves it in the ass, and since I don’t want kid number two, I only use her mouth and ass,” he admitted.

“You’re a dick,” I said, disgusted.

“And a big one,” he agreed, just as Portia returned to the cabin.

“Not as big as mine,” I said smugly.

“There ya go,” he roared, before he said, “Babe, do you know what I learned today?”

“No, what, honey?” she asked.

“My son has an even bigger dick than mine,” he announced, in the same way my Mother would brag about my debate championship.

“Good for him,” she said, looking at me with a smile as she slipped out of her runners, which looked ludicrous with her outfit anyway. Then, like I did anytime a woman was in nylon-clad feet in front of me, I stared at her purple painted toenails, encased so attractively in her mocha-coloured nylons.

“I also learned he’s a virgin,” he added smugly.

“I didn’t know eighteen-year-old virgins even existed,” she said, not in a cruel way, but in a genuinely surprised way.

“I’m out of here,” I said, mortified at being humiliated like this. How dare he out me like that? And to a girl!

Portia suddenly showed some real class when she grabbed my hand and brought me to a dead halt saying, her voice so soft and sweet, as my cock instantly hardened, “Sweetheart! It’s okay. We were all virgins once.”

“Yeah, until I was like fourteen,” my Dad joked.

“Don’t listen to your father,” Portia said, “there is no right or wrong time to lose your cherry.”

“How about now?” Dad asked.

“What?” Portia asked, looking at him surprised. I too had a similar look. Was he going to let me fuck his super- hot girlfriend? Would I actually do it?

“Well, he loves nylons and hot sluts and you love a big, fat cock, so it looks to me like a match made in heaven,” Dad pontificated benignly, as if this were the most logical thing ever.

“He’s your son,” Portia pointed out the obvious.

I couldn’t say anything; I was completely speechless.

“Look at the tent in his pants,” Dad said, pointing to my very erect dick. “He seems to like the idea.”

“Dad, I….” I began.

“Just show it to her,” Dad suggested.

Portia interjected, “William, this isn’t appropriate.”

“Whip it out right now, son,” he ordered, ignoring the woman’s common-sense objection, just like he always did with Mom.

My cock was awkwardly stuck in a weird position in my underwear, and for some reason I wanted to show this hot woman how big I actually was, and to see if my Dad’s theory was actually true. He did say a woman would do anything. And sucking her boyfriend’s son’s dick right in front of him would be a real good descriptor of anything. So I pulled down my pants and underwear in one quick plummet and let my Dad’s girlfriend see my nine-and-a-half-inch-long cock with its seven-inch circumference.

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