When Mom died of pancreatic cancer after months of excruciating pain, Dad and I were devastated and exhausted. I’d been in a half-assed relationship with my girlfriend (the biggest whore in my high school), who’d aggressively gotten me to give up my virginity in the cargo bed of a pickup truck on the way to a Bob Dylan concert in Long Beach. I’d had so much on my plate at the time, it was like watching it happen to someone else; although Dylan was amazing. He sang “It’s Alright, Ma,” that night, before it came out on his 5th album.

The afternoon Dad and I returned home from Mom’s simple ashes-sprinkling ceremony by her cemetery marker, in accordance with her will, attended by a few relatives and close friends, I was numbed out. I wasn’t surprised to see Dad get out a beer and make himself a thick roast beef sandwich; at 350 lb. that was just his way of coping. He asked me if I was hungry, which I wasn’t, but I took the beer he slid across the table. Neither one of us was crying or even especially sad; I think we were both just relieved that it was over, both speechless.

I drank another beer, watching Dad finish off a huge bowl of vanilla ice cream drenched in chocolate syrup. He let out an enormous belch, went to the living room, lit up a cigar and started watching a football game. Normally I’d leave him alone at that point, but this time I really needed his company, so I sat down next to him. He put his arm across my shoulders, something he’d done occasionally and briefly before, but this time he didn’t take it away, and after a few minutes he drew me close beside him. I hadn’t felt Dad’s body since I was little, and the heat and bulk of it was soothing. He kissed me on the top of my head. When I looked up into that wide, ugly face I loved so well, he bent down and smilingly kissed me right on the lips.

Instinctively I put out my tongue. Realizing how inappropriate that was, I was about to withdraw it, but he wrapped his wide mouth around it, sucked it into his own hot mouth, and we found our tongues exploring each other. Dad had a copious amount of saliva and started drooling all over my face.

At that point I had a raging hard-on, could feel my pants getting soaked in pre-cum and found myself embracing Dad with a blend of love and lust he did not refuse, but returned in kind, engulfing me in his thick, powerful arms, pulling me up atop his enormous belly, while he continued to vigorously suck and explore my tongue. His breath was always typically audible, but now he was breathing so loud and hard that snot started running from his nose, mingling with our dripping saliva, but neither of us cared. Now it seemed he wanted me to suck on his tongue harder, which I gladly did. All the lifelong affection I’d had for my big strong father I now lavished on that tongue that was fucking my mouth.