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smaller Camping With Dad Cover

I'd never seen Dad smile like he did as he gathered his clothes and walked back to the tent.

Shit, I thought, and let go of the tent flap. I scrambled into my sleeping bag and faced the fabric wall as Dad pulled back the opening and ducked inside.

"You asleep, little man?" he whispered.

I didn't answer, trying to keep my breathing as even as possible.

His hand brushed against my head. It moved lightly down my neck. I didn't want it to stop, ever. He whispered, "Sweet dreams," then his hand disappeared. His sleeping bag rustled for a few seconds, then silence.

Sweet dreams, my ass. My cock was still bone-hard. I adjusted, acting like I was moving in my sleep, and wrapped my hand around my throbbing shaft. I wanted to jerk it so bad, but I couldn't move. He couldn't know I'd just seen him fuck someone. And not just any someone--somebody my age. I knew it was stupid, but I was actually jealous.

I wanted to pump my hips, driving my shaft through my tight fingers, but I didn't dare move.

It didn't take long for his breathing to even out and grow shallow. He could always fall asleep at the drop of a hat. He also slept like a log.

I rolled over. It was a warm night, so Dad had fallen asleep with the sleeping bag peeled back, revealing his flat, lightly-haired stomach. I craned my neck to see the top of his pubic hair. Everything below that was either covered or in dark shadow.

In a moment of bravery, strictly driven by the churning in my balls, I eased my hand off my cock and reached out for the down-filled flap that separated me from my father's limp cock. I kept my eyes on his face as I inched the sleeping bag back.

When I figured I had pulled it down enough and I was sure he hadn't woken, I took in the glory I'd just risked my ass for. His thick cock lay across his hairy thigh and a large set of balls.

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