Just like real leftovers, cigar dad time is even better after you’ve forgotten about it at the back of the fridge for a few days.

I’ve talked enough about Handjobs Magazine on here for everybody to know what it is, and I still read through my collection with some regularity. Even though I’ve read every story, seen every illustration, and even scanned through most of the Dear Handjobs letters, I still run up on things I’d forgotten about, and get to enjoy them anew.

Such is the case with today’s story, Thanksgiving Coming Out. I had definitely read this story a few times before, but it wasn’t till after I’d busted to it (yet again) that I came to that realization. Ah, well. Just good reassurance that it’s a good story to share with you guys on this lazy holiday weekend.

This one, from the November 1999 issue of Handjobs, is by Rick O’Bannion (one of HJ’s anonymous writers adopting the name of the lead character and narrator from the story, lending fresh authenticity to its filthy pleasures), with illustrations by E. Rex Shawn. Enjoy this while I eat some of the many slices of pie left in my refrigerator:

Thanksgiving Coming Out

by Rick O’bannion

I was at a turning point in my life. First of all, I had just begun to develop an interest in other boys, and that scared the hell out of me. Then my Dad started to change. Mom had died when I was just a little kid, and Dad and I had lived alone since then. All of a sudden, though, the father I thought I knew so well began to disappear.

First Dad started smoking these enormous, bitchin’ cigars. Then I noticed one day that he hadn’t shaved, and he told me that he’d decided to grow a beard. I’d always thought of Dad as something of a straight arrow, but I didn’t mind the cigars and the beard. In fact, I thought they made him look damn sexy. That was the problem. Suddenly I was seeing my father as a sexual person, and that attraction scared me even more than the realization that I wanted to have sex with some of the guys I knew. Dad also developed a fondness for beer and began to put on weight around the middle until he had a respectable paunch that made him even sexier in my horny teenaged eyes. My desire to get it on with another guy, however, remained just that – a desire. So you could add frustration and perpetual horniness to the list of problems I was having. I was damn near a basket case by the time Thanksgiving rolled around.

Dad surprised me by announcing that we were going to spend Thanksgiving with his father and brother. I’d only met my grandfather and Uncle Mike once or twice and hardly knew them, but I didn’t raise a stink about being away from home for the holiday. We drove out to Granddad Joe’s place Thanksgiving morning, and Dad told me that we’d be staying for the weekend. Dad had a big cigar smoldering in his jaw the whole time we were in the car, and I had a hardon for the entire trip. By the time we got there, I was a wreck and needed to jack off in the worst way.

Then I saw Granddad Joe and Uncle Mike and came close to losing it right there in front of them. Uncle Mike could have been Dad’s twin with his full beard and big gut, and Granddad Joe was an older version of his two sons. They were the hottest looking men I’d ever laid eyes on in my life. I was undressing my male relatives mentally before Dad and I even had our bags out of the car. My underpants were soaked with cock juice, and I was sweating as though I’d just run a marathon. Luckily, no one commented on the bulge in my pants, though I felt like I had a telephone pole jutting out down there.

Dad, Uncle Mike, and Granddad Joe had a couple beers while we watched football on TV and waited for dinner to be ready. Long before the turkey appeared, I was the only one still sober. All I could think about was getting some privacy after we ate so that I could jack off and get rid of some of the cum that was making my balls ache.

Antsy as I was, I still appreciated dinner when we finally sat down at the table. Like Dad, Uncle Mike and Granddad Joe were great cooks. In addition to all the usual Thanksgiving goodies, two six-packs of Bud sat in the middle of the table. I began thinking about having a beer myself. I sure needed something to calm down the gonads at that point. I grabbed for a can of beer and looked questioningly at Dad.

“What the hell! It’s a holiday, son. Go ahead. Knock yourself out!” he told me.

I took Dad at his word and managed to put away four beers in the course of dinner. Of course, the rest of them matched my efforts two for one, and all of us were plastered by the time we polished off the last of the pumpkin pie. I’d eaten enough turkey and trimmings to make a respectable bulge in my own belly. It wasn’t in Dad’s and Uncle Mike’s league, of course, but it was not bad for a boy my age. In addition, my cock remained semi-hard all through the meal, but at least it was hidden under the table. No one could see how aroused I was.

Cigar Time With Dad

With dessert out of the way, Uncle Mike passed around a box of the enormous cigars that all three of them smoked. I nearly jumped out of my chair when he shoved the box in front of me and raised his eyebrows in a question. Granddad Joe and Dad were in the process of lighting up, and the rich aroma of their smokes had my juices flowing again. They looked so damned studly sitting there slouched in their chairs with those big stogies streaming away in their jaws. I’d always thought of smoking cigars as the right of older men, but right then I just had to have one of those stogies. This time I didn’t even bother looking to Dad for permission. I grabbed for a cigar and quickly went through the ritual I’d watched enviously ever since Dad started smoking. With a good burn going on my smoke, I finally looked up and glanced around the table to see how my family was reacting. Dad was beaming as proudly as if he’d just landed a million dollar contract.

“See, Dad,” he remarked to Granddad Joe with drunken pride in his voice. “I told you Rick was a chip off the old block!”

Granddad Joe nodded in agreement, drawing hard on his cigar and releasing a thick, swirling cloud of smoke into the air above the table.

“You look damn good smokin’ that cigar, son,” he told me. “How d’ya like it?”

For some reason I felt as though I’d just passed some sort of test without even knowing it. Before answering, I pulled in a mouthful of smoke and slowly exhaled it into the churning blue cloud drifting above us.

“I like it, Granddad! I think I’m gonna take up cigar smoking!” Dad pushed himself back from the table a couple inches and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his slacks which were already dangerously low-slung under his bulging gut. Chomping down on his cigar, he beamed at me in a drunken, paternal manner.

“Guess I’m gonna hafta double the ol’ cigar order from now on!” he laughed.

That drew an appreciative chuckle from Granddad Joe, Uncle Mike, and me. For the first time that day, with a belly full of food and beer and a great tasting cigar burning in my jaw, I relaxed completely. At the same time, however, the sheer masculine sensuality of the scene had my cock in such an uproar that I could have shot a load in my pants without even touching myself.

Uncle Mike and Granddad Joe had also shoved their chairs back from the table as they contentedly puffed on their cigars and turned the air in the dining room blue. Man, what a scene that was! Uncle Mike slouched down in his chair, head tilted back and cigar clenched tightly in his teeth, with his hands shoved in the waistband of his pants on either side of that bulging, turkey-and-beer-stuffed belly.

Dad stroked his beard with one hand while the other circled over his big gut, belching out great puffs of cigar smoke every thirty seconds or so. Generous scatterings of cigar ash decorated both their shirt fronts. Then Granddad Joe knocked back still another brewskie and lifted himself off his chair to give vent to a long, rumbling fart that shook the windows and made the rest of us grin. Each man radiated so damn much brute masculinity that I didn’t know where to look from one minute to the next as I stored up images for my next jack off session, which I hoped wouldn’t be too long in coming.

I was one happy boy right then, I can tell you! That big old stogie I was enjoying stretched my jaw, but so comfortably that I knew I’d been born to smoke cigars. My head was spinning as much from the thick smoke I was sucking into my mouth with every breath as from all the beer I’d poured down my throat. Best of all, the rich taste of the tobacco and the warmth of all those brews had my balls in an uproar and my dick on the verge of spurting. The only downside, if you could call it that, was that I was so fucking horny I thought I’d lose my mind. I ached to whip out my boner and jack myself to the Granddaddy of all eruptions. Equally badly, I wanted to see Dad, Uncle Mike, and Granddad Joe join me in one massive cum-shooting O’Bannion family orgasm. For a good ten minutes I was so wrapped up in savoring my first cigar and all those forbidden thoughts that I was oblivious to anything else.

Suddenly, I glanced over at Uncle Mike and got the shock of my young life. Right there at the dinner table, as he slowly, sensuously rotated his cigar between his lips with one hand, his other hand was just as slowly, just as sensuously stroking the most enormous mancock I’d ever imagined! I had to make a quick grab for my cigar to keep it from dropping it in my lap. My jaw gaped open. As hard as it was to take my eyes off the sight of the prize-winning dong that had miraculously appeared in Uncle Mike’s lap, I stole a quick, furtive glance at Dad and Granddad Joe. Holy shit! Both of them had their fat daddy-dicks out of their pants, too! I was the only O’Bannion at the table not showing hard for all the world to see!

My elders hadn’t failed to pick up on the fact that I’d finally gotten the full picture. Dad had a broad grin on his puss with his cigar jutting out of the middle of his smile.

“What’d I tell you guys?” he chuckled. “Didn’t I tell ya the kid was ready t’ join the club?”

What the fuck is he talking about? I wondered to myself.

Uncle Mike belched loudly and punched Dad on the arm. “Yeah, Pete. You did, and I guess you were right, too! I bet ol’ Rick here’s got one helluva hardon trapped in his pants. Am I right, boy?”

I had my cigar back in my mouth now and was puffing away like a house afire. My mouth was burning, and my head was reeling. Somehow I managed to keep from passing out from excitement and gasped, “Fuck, yeah!”

“Well, come on, son,” said Granddad Joe. “Don’t make us beg for it! Get that whanger o’ yours out here for us t’ see!”

My hands were shaking, and a torrent of gray ash from my cigar tumbled down the front of my shirt as I fumbled with the zipper on my pants. I’d already leaked so much precum into my underpants that my hands were sticky with the stuff by the time I got my dick out in the open, and, oh man, did that ever feel good! As often as I’d jerked off, I’d never seen the head of my cock so fuckin’ red. My piss slit gaped wide, ready to fire. I couldn’t help myself then. Without conscious thought I fisted my prong and squeezed hard. In a fog of lust and cigar smoke I heard myself whimper as I fell over the edge and squirted a pint of cockcream straight up in the air. My first wad hadn’t yet splashed down before the second and third followed quicker than I could take a drag on my stogie. No orgasm had ever felt so fuckin’ good. For what felt like an eternity I sat there with my eyes closed. I was shaking like I’d stuck my finger in a wall socket.

Opening my eyes after a few moments, I discovered that I hadn’t been dreaming. My three closest male relatives all had wide grins on their faces. Dad, who’d been sitting right next to me, also wore the sticky aftermath of my eruption. I’d really slimed the old man good. He had cum in his beard and all over his shirt and pants. He was also licking his lips so I knew some of my jizz had made it into his mouth.

“Damn, boy!” laughed Granddad Joe. “You gotta jack off more often! You damn near drowned us with that load!”

We all laughed out loud, and Uncle Mike crowed, “Give the boy another beer. He needs t’keep up his strength!”

As I sucked down the beer, the rest of them started ripping off their clothes. Shirts, pants, underwear, and socks all flew through the air and landed in tangled heaps all over the room. My dick, which had just shot the load of a lifetime, came roaring back to life, as hard as ever. I chugged that beer in record time and joined the guys in getting naked.

“Ditch the stogie, son. Get over here and suck some cock!” Dad dropped his hairy ass back down on his chair and spread his legs, giving me an eyeful of the bloated wiener he was offering. A good seven inches of rock hard manmeat reared up out of Dad’s lap. His swollen cockhead was already dripping honey. Blue veins stood out along the length of Dad’s dong, and I imagined that I could see them throbbing away, keeping that pecker nice and stiff. In my most uninhibited wet dreams I’d never conjured up as magnificent an example of manhood as my Dad’s cock. My throat was aching to get stretched.

I took one deep drag on my cigar and laid it in the ashtray on the table. Then I slid down on my knees and scrambled across the floor till I was between Dad’s legs. Uncle Mike and Granddad Joe drew their chairs up on either side of Dad’s so that they could both have a bird’s eye view of my first attempt to suck cock. I hoped that they could hold off blowing their wads so that I could suck each of them off, too.

“Lick your ol’ man’s pecker, boy,” Uncle Mike suggested in a gust of cigar smoke. “Get ’im all good and wet.”

Obediently, I followed his directions and experienced my first taste of another man’s honey as I lapped up the precum streaming out of Dad’s pisser. From the way he groaned as soon as my tongue made contact with his dong, I knew Dad was enjoying my efforts as much as I was. Just as I’d known from the moment I took that first drag on my cigar that I was a born cigar man, I now knew that I was also born to suck dick. I was so turned on that I didn’t waste any time on the preliminaries. Once I got a taste of Dad’s juices, I opened wide, engulfed the head of his cock with my lips, and sucked hard.

“Son of a bitch!” Dad shouted, sending a cascade of cigar ash down his chest. He grabbed my head and shoved the entire length of his prong all the way down my throat.

“Way t’ go, Ricky!” Uncle Mike urged me on. “Suck that fucker!”

“Yeah, take it all, son!” Granddad Joe joined in. “Make your Daddy feel real good, now.”

Dad was doing all the work now, slamming his cock in and out of my mouth like a fuckin’ pile driver. I let my eyes roam left and right and saw Uncle Mike and Granddad Joe eagerly fisting their own prongs and puffing hard on their stogies. Thick clouds of cigar smoke swirled around my head as I did my level best to make Dad happy. I knew I’d never be able to light up a good cigar again without thinking of sucking a fat cock.

Dad was half stewed and completely out of control as he finally got to fuck his only son’s face. All too quickly, I felt his spongy glans swell to dangerous proportions in my mouth and I knew the end was near. I had my hands locked on Dad’s legs so that I wouldn’t lose contact with his pecker as he slammed into me. The temperature in the room seemed to have risen twenty degrees. Sweat poured off Dad’s heaving chest and sprinkled down in my face. For that matter, I was sweating like a pig myself. Dad’s lips had drawn back, and I could see his teeth sunk in the butt of his stogie. His eyes had rolled back in his head now, and he was snorting like a stag.

“Ugh! … Ugh! … A-R-R-R-! … UH, UH! .. Ahh, FUCK!”

With that, an enormous spurt of slick cockcream spurted from Dad’s pisser straight down my throat. Then another wad, and another! I was fuckin’ drowning in cum! I couldn’t swallow fast enough, and bubbles of cum leaked out of the corners of my mouth and trickled down my chin, but I kept right on sucking. Then another thick stream of fuckjuice slapped me in the side of the head. I glanced over and

saw that Uncle Mike had lost it and was spraying his load all over me. I glanced to the other side and saw Granddad Joe spurting like Old Faithful and dumping his steaming wad on my back.

My own teenaged cock was so damn stiff, I was actually afraid it’d break off. I grabbed hold and squeezed and another load of my personal, grade-A honey squirted all over Dad’s legs.

I was momentarily disappointed not to have gotten to taste Uncle Mike’s and Granddad Joe’s loads, but then I remembered that we were going to be there all weekend. Let me tell you, the four of us stayed drunk and hard the entire time. I lost count of how many loads of cream I swallowed over those four days. That Thanksgiving was the best holiday of my life.   

I don’t think I’ll get tired of stories about boys learning about important stuff from within the safety of their own fraternal/paternal bonding groups. Especially if it involves beer and smoking (cigar dad s ftw). That’s how boys grow up properly, right there.

Happy leftover Thanksgiving!

-t