Simpsons Father and Son Camp Bonding

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Simpsons Father and Son Camp Bonding
As Bart loaded his bag, in the car, he couldn’t help but complain again. He didn’t want to be up so early, didn’t want to go camping and certainly didn’t want to go there alone with his father for a whole day and night. He couldn’t blame Homer however. It wasn’t his idea after all, it was his mom’s.

“Please Bart, do it for me,” she had said with her pleading eyes, the ones which no son could resist but agree to.

Homer had complained as well and Marge had dealt with him as well. It was ironic that the camping idea was meant for father and son to bond, when the one thing they did agree to was that they weren’t interesting in camping alone together.

But having agreed to it and with no way to back out of it, they had left home fairly early on Saturday, both men grumpy and complaining to each other. Homer didn’t trust the boy and knew that he would have to watch his back with his son around. There was no anticipating what devilish plot Bart might come up with to torture him. It was Bart’s favourite pastime it seemed and Homer his favourite victim. But for the moment at least, the boy was sleeping on the passenger seat. Getting up early on a weekend is never easy for a ten year old after all.

It took little over an hour before the Simpson men arrived at their designated camp site. Marge had chosen a peaceful forest spot for them rather then public camping grounds. She said that being completely alone together without opportunities to meet and socialise with other people would help the bonding. Also, she secretly wanted to avoid giving Bart any opportunity to humiliate his father in public.

As Homer stopped the car, Bart woke up and yawned loudly. He looked around and was surprised to find the area to his liking. The camping spot was a clearing surrounded by tall trees and as the boy opened the door, he heard a small river not too far in the distance. A circle of stones was set on the ground, the remains of another camping family no doubt. As he stretched, his father opened the trunk to bring out the tent and other camping gear. The food would remain in the car, to avoid attracting any wild a****ls.

Homer laid out the schematics for the tent and studied them for a moment. “Alright, so if I put this here…” he said as he planted a stake in the ground to set the tent, “and I put this one here… and I attach this here…” One could almost believe that he knew exactly what he was doing; ‘almost’ being the key word. Bart knew his father well enough to know that he was basically guessing and not really thinking through his methods. As he planted the last stake, Homer took a step back to look at his work. Three full seconds later, a small gust of wind brought it swiftly to the ground, to Bart’s laughter…
”Why you little!,” Homer angrily said as he strangled his son in revenge.

Over an hour later, the tent had been correctly set up thanks to Bart’s better ability to read the manual. After gathering gather firewood for the night, they decided to hike up a trail and see what they could find. They first went to see the river, where Bart proceeded to push his father into the water, with ensuing hilarity. They then found a bee nest and Homer was forced to jump back into the river when he tried to steal some of their honey. Generally however, they enjoyed their time out, although didn’t converse much. Bart and Homer still were not interested in the experience together.

Hours went by rapidly and as night crept near, the Simpsons found themselves on a small hill near their campsite. They climbed on a large rock and laid on their backs to watch the sun set.

”Wow,” Homer said in awe. “You know boy, this is the life. We can just stay here and watch the sunset, without a care in the world.”

Bart was beginning to be little bored at this point. The day had been active and he admitted to finding the hike fun, but sunsets with his father were not his thing. He just wanted to go to bed and be tomorrow so he could do back home, watch cartoons and play with Milhouse. He made a loud snoring sound to illustrate his point.

”It’s ok,” the father calmly replied. “One day, when you’re older, you’ll understand how precious these few moments of tranquility are.” They remained for ten more minutes before returning to their campsite, not wanting to be caught by the darkness. By the time they reached it, the sun had fully set, leaving the forest too dark to walk without a light. Thankfully, they had brought firewood earlier. Homer wouldn’t let Bart go to bed immediately; he was now motivated to spend some quality time together as a father and son should. He Homer started the fire and brought out some marshmallows to roast, but his son refused to partake in the sacred camping ritual.

”Come on Bart, they’re real tasty…” Homer said in his enticing voice

”Awww Homer, I just want to get to bed. I’m tired of being here, this forest is so lame!”

Homer knew that he had to do something fast to capture Bart’s interest. He started narrating a story about a headless ghost roaming around the woods, seeking revenge from all the little boys she encounters for all the trouble they caused her while she was alive. The father’s storytelling abilities lacked consistency however and it made the horror story too clumsy to be scary.

Bart decided to take the relay however and told a tale of his own, about a radioactive man in a world of zombies. More fiction then horror, Bart still managed to captivate his dad’s attention by exposing what the zombie world lacked (bacon, pork chops, doughnuts). In the end, the radioactive man proved to be Homer himself, which sent the father in a fit of fear, shouting in terror.

Bart laughed as Homer recovered from the story. Somehow, now that he didn’t think of all he was missing at home, he could appreciate more what he had right now.

”Hey dad… I’ll take one of those marshmallows now.”

Homer couldn’t be happier. They stayed up late, telling each other stories and laughing about people in Springfield. Bart would mock Patty and Selma, and in return Homer would make fun of principle Skinners. In the end, they both mocked the Flanders family together.

”Well,” Homer finally said, “It’s getting late, we should get some sleep.” He didn’t actually want to get some rest, but he could see that his son had trouble staying awake. It had been a big day after all and they had gotten up quite early.

”Yeah, you’re right,” Bart reluctantly replied. He wanted to stay up since he was having so much fun with his dad, but the siren voice of his sleeping bag got the best of him. Still, he hoped that he would feel the same the next day. The whole forest environment made Bart want to spend more time with his old man.

Both men entered the tent, stripped shamelessly to their underwear and got into their separate sleeping bags. They had chosen a good ground to sleep on, it was fairly soft and without any bumps, unlike the last time the family had gone camping.

Homer had forgotten hold cold the nights could get when camping, even during the summer. For all the fat he was worth, he still felt a little chilly, especially since he was used to the warmth of his own bed or from the proximity of a nuclear reactor. On the other side of the tent, Bart could hear his father twist and turn as if he was having a hard time finding comfort.

“Bart?” Homer asked insecurely. He felt a little humiliated that he had to ask the question. “Are you feeling… cold?” He didn’t want it to sound as if he needed his son to keep him warm, but in fact and offering a service of sorts to Bart.

Bart felt very warm in his sleeping bag. Thanks to his petite stature, he was able to roll around in it and have multiple layers of covers, giving him more comfort and warmth. Still, Bart didn’t want to disappoint his old man, not after the nice evening they had spent together. “Yeah, a little bit,” he replied with a slight tremble in his voice.

“Do you want me to warm you up?”

“Sure. Thanks dad.”

Homer got out of his sleeping bag and zipped it with his son’s. He slipped into the now larger bag and laid next to the boy. Bart couldn’t resist a soft moan as he felt the warmth of his dad’s bare chest against his also bare back. Homer couldn’t resist covering his son with his arm, his hand resting on the boy’s chest. Bart wrapped his own arms around his father’s as if a blanket.

Moments passed in silence. Bart felt very cosy and peaceful next to his father and wanted to enjoy it further rather then give in to sleep. On the other hand, Homer’s mind was racing with thoughts, some of them forbidden, finding the situation very peculiar. He had not thought through sleeping with his son, their bare skin; he even felt Bart’s butt against his groin. It felt strangely arousing and all the thoughts of Patty and Selma kissing that his mind could conceive couldn’t prevent his arousal.

Bart immediately felt it, his dad’s growing cock against his butt. He felt it slide up slowly, like an a****l stalking his prey. The boy was surprised to discover that he didn’t mind the feeling at all and instead wiggled his buttocks teasingly against it. He felt the tip of the cock poking his back through the top of his father’s undies.

Almost u*********sly, Homer moved his hand downwards to Bart’s thighs. He caressed the region slowly, rubbing his son’s smaller penis through the fabric of the underwear. He moved his hand up and down, feeling the length of it, the ball sack, and the inner thighs themselves. Slowly, he slipped his hand inside the underwear and massaged the shaft directly.

The new more direct sensation made Bart tense up a little, leaning further against his father. He could feel the wetness of his dad’s cock against his back but thought nothing of it and instead just enjoyed the pleasure that Homer was giving him. He took it as it was, an act of love and tenderness, forbidden and amazing. It was a secret he could share with his father.

Homer slipped his thumb over the elastic band and brought down the underwear with Bart’s help, throwing them deeper inside the joined sleeping bag. Now completely nude, Bart turned to face his father, lifting himself a little to meet his head. As their heads hot nearer, they could feel each other’s warm breath against their necks. They approached their heads and their lips met, their tongues joining in a sensual dance.

Homer could feel the wetness of his son’s small pecker against his chest. It made him smile as he grabbed it again and fondled it, teasing his gasping son. Silently, the father slipped under the covers to observe his son’s nudity closer. The smell was exhilarating and he couldn’t prevent himself from passing his tongue along the length of it, lapping the few drips of precum leaking from it. He licked again and again, his rough tongue lightly pulling the skin upwards. Homer then took the small ball sack and sucked on that as well, lightly, as if to savor its salty flavor.

Bart took a deep breath as he felt his father’s tongue along his boyhood. Before him was his father’s crotch, still covered by underwear, yet emanating a powerful arousing odor. He delicately grabbed the underwear and slid them off, his father wiggling his bottom and legs to aid his son. He was presented with a massive cock, which he easily managed to slide in his large mouth. The boy then started bobbing his head up and down the shaft, letting it slide off from time to time before devouring it again. Bart used his hands to massage the areas around the shaft, playing with the balls and crotch. He could feel his father doing it to him and it felt great, so he wanted to give him the same pleasure.

Homer had not thought further then to reach for his son’s genitals and lick them like a lollipop. Having Bart give him the same surprised him and made the deed harder to do. Somehow he had picked up skill with his mouth and it made Homer have trouble to concentrate on his own deed. Both males entered a sort of competition, trying to give greater pleasure to the other and break their concentration. Neither had been with other men before which put them on equal grounds, and they had to find each other’s weak spots for claim the win.

Although Bart had started by emulating his father, he had noticed that he could provoke some spasms just by rubbing some areas and sucking in a certain way. He was enjoying the cock in his mouth about as much as receiving a blowjob himself. He knew that he wanted this to happen again and his mind wandered around at other opportunities he might have, with his fathers and perhaps other males of Springfield.

In the end however, his technique was no match for his dad’s and Bart’s whole body shook as his orgasm hit him. He felt his c***dhood melt in his father’s mouth, his mind blanking out from bliss. Homer was all too happy to lap up all of the flowing boy juices. He enjoyed sensing Bart’s body jerk as his tongue lashed his sensitive post-orgasmic penis.

Bart was about to resume giving his father oral sex, but Homer returned from under the sheets to meet with his boy. They shared a brief kiss, Bart tasting the aroma of his own jizz on his dad’s lips, while Homer moved his hands around the boy’s body, his back, and finally moved his hands onto his butt cheeks. Bart was surprised to feel a finger gently probing his anal ring, not trying to force itself in, just feeling the contour of it and smoothly stretching it. His mind raced as he felt Homer’s dropping cock rubbing in anticipation against his body. He knew that all he had to say was “No”, if so he chose, and his dad would respect his wishes.

Bart felt safe with his father and wanted to truly be with him. He wanted to feel the strong manhood push inside him and bind them for a brief moment. Homer extended his arm and grabbed his backpack to try to find something that could be used for lubrication. He found Bart’s special brand of shampoo and decided that it would do perfectly. He squeezed some in his hand and proceeded to rub it over his erect cock. His son turned his back to him and Homer slowly slipped a finger inside his butt hole, all the while making circular motions to loosen him up. Satisfied with his work, the man grabbed his cock and lightly pocked Bart’s tight ring.

”Are you ready son?” he slipped in his mate’s ear.

”Yeah,” Bart whispered back, preparing for the unavoidable pain.

The father knew that he had to be gentle. He pushed through the initial resistance and let his son breathe as an inch of himself slipped through. Bart tried to relax, thinking of how Lisa might do it with her meditation techniques. He closed his eyes, took deep breaths and tried to clear his mind, letting his body loosen and accept the large member.

Another inch slid in, but now he felt more in control. It took several minutes before Homer managed to insert himself completely inside the boy. They laid motionless for a while, tied in lust, as Bart accommodated the new sensation. The feeling of being full was odd, but after a while it stopped being so unpleasant and he nodded to his dad to proceed.

Homer took the cue and slowly started thrusting his hips into his boy, while keeping aware of the discomfort that he could feel. The boy was beginning to understand the enjoyment of the act however and gradually, his own hips started bucking to meet his dad’s. His small pecker started becoming erect again, but the boy was still unsatisfied with the position, so he slid off and lifted the covers of the joined sleeping bags.

Homer rolled on his back, his cock rising like a totem pole, precum leaking freely on his chest, calling to Bart. The boy grabbed the erect shaft and placed it back to his butt hole. This time it slid in much easier and before long, Homer was pumping his meat with more vigor, his son meeting every thrust with one of his own.

The man couldn’t remember having felt anything so tight and with his son previous mouth treatment, it was all he could do to stop himself from cumming on the spot. He wanted to make the sensation last, both for himself and his son’s first sexual experience. It was hard to keep the juices from flowing however when you had such a tight hole milking you raw, the beautiful sight of his nude son before him and Bart’s boyish cries of glee filling the tent.

The boy felt very aroused from being penetrated and had started masturbating furiously. The sensation was new and overwhelming and it made him horny as if he had not just shot his load. He thrust into the fat cock as fast as he could, feeling the pressure build as did his dad.

Willpower doesn’t need last forever and in the end Homer grabbed his son’s hips and jammed him down as he shot his load deep into his ass. Bart didn’t stop jerking off however and soon also shot his hot load on Homer’s chest and even one shot to his cheek, all the while clinching his butt cheeks tighter, exciting Homer further in the process.

As the excitement subsided, Bart fell on his father’s chest and onto his own juices. He didn’t mind. In fact, he felt as in heaven in the man’s strong arms who held him tightly, the now limper cock still stuck in his bottom. Both felt at peace with the world and each other, something that didn’t happen very often. They remained silent and comfortable for a few minutes.

“Dad?” Bart finally asked, still motionless.

“Yes son?”

“Does this mean we’re gay?”

Homer was taken aback from the question. He had once been homophobe and had since learned to push through and become more tolerant, but had never expected to go through such lengths himself.

“No son,” he finally responded. “It just means that we love each other very much.” It felt like a half answer, but neither male minded really; they were too comfortable laying against each other, their nude bodies feeling each other’s heat. Homer had something to ask his son as well.

“Hey son? I really enjoyed my time with you today and tonight. But now that we’re going back home, could you… maybe… lay off the teasing?” His voice sounded all sheepish and insecure.

Bart smiled and sighed as he heard the question. “I have a reputation to upkeep you know…” Bart approached his father and gave him a kiss on the nose. “But I’ll tone it down, for you.”

‘Well, it’s something at least,’ Homer thought as he hugged his special little man in his arms. He couldn’t know what the future would hold for them, but at least he felt closer to his son now.

“Hey boy,” he whispered in his son’s ear. “Want to go at it again?”

“Homer, you read my mind,” Bart answered with a grin.

The END.

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