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CHAPTER 8

Happy Birthday, Dad

Category:  ATHLETIC 

Cowritten with: Tom R

NOVEMBER 2012 | LOGAN:

    Just like my birthday, Dad's birthday was on a Thursday this year. And just like me, he would be having a party on the weekend. Only in his case it would be even bigger, as this was his 50th!

    My mother had planned a "New York City vacation" for them. She got them a suite at a luxurious hotel, just a few blocks from their apartment, and Dad took the day off work. They wined and dined all over Manhattan, but Dad insisted on one thing: he was NOT canceling his personal training session.

    So that Thursday evening, we got together with Owen at the gym as usual. In honor of the birthday, Owen had prepared an extra challenging workout for us, just to show Dad that he still had it in him. By the end of it, we felt tired, but my father was also more hyped and energized than I'd ever seen him! Owen's idea worked like magic.

    Indeed, Dad seemed to be in an excellent mood. I really didn't know what to expect on his 50th (would he go into full-blown midlife-crisis mode?) but he seemed jovial as he joined Owen and me down to the locker room and into the showers. At some point this year, I hadn't even noticed precisely when, my father and I started to shower together at the gym, and even visit the sauna occasionally. Stuff like that used to be such a taboo, being naked in front of each other. Looking back now, I laughed at how unnecessarily dramatic we were. I was grateful at Owen for getting it out of us.

    "Hey, Owen! Aren't those two...?" I said, and pointed at the two naked men walking in front of us. I was sitting naked in the hot tub with my father and Owen, enjoying some relaxation after our tough workout.

    "What?" Dad asked. Since I was in a good mood, I figured I'd share the story with him.

    "Those two guys that just walked by," I said. "Owen and I were here in the hot tub once and they started hooking up. And then... we saw them fucking right under that shower there."

    Even at this age, I almost started to blush sharing a story like this with my father. It might seem silly, but even using the word "fucking" instead of "sex" felt like a big deal. There were only a couple of times, talking to Dad, when I'd mention having sex with my wife, and it was always done in as "non-vulgar" of a way as possible. It was completely different from the way I talked to my friends. Now, sitting here naked in a hot tub next to my dad for the first time, it felt exciting to cross that bridge. To be vulgar. To be friends. To stop pretending. 

    "Oh, really?" Dad said, looking at Owen as if they knew something I didn't. "They started fucking right here? Holy shit."

    We all laughed. I was so happy I could give my father a kiss.

    "Listen, why don't you guys come over to my place for some scotch?" Dad said. "I've got this bottle I've been saving and I..." he looked at me and then at Owen, "I can't think of a better occasion to open it."

    "Isn't Mom waiting for you at the hotel?" I asked.

    "She's getting a massage. And she'll be at the spa all evening. I think this is more of a present for her than it is for me. I'll see her later. What do you say?"

    "I'm done with work, so it's fine by me," Owen said on my left.

    "Sure, Dad. I'd love to," I said and put my right arm around Dad and rubbed his shoulder for a few seconds. 

 

MARK:

    It had been a wonderful evening. I had a few drinks with my son and Owen at home. I played some old crooner music I liked. We went to the balcony for a cigar; even though none of us smoked, the occasion felt appropriate. I'd be having a big party with all of my friends in a couple of days, but for tonight I was in perfect company.

    Halfway through my third scotch, I felt the courage within me, and I knew I had to act fast.

    "Logan... Son, there's something I want to tell you," I said from the couch, as Logan and Owen sat in two armchairs opposite me. They turned to look at me simultaneously and I said the words for the first time: "I'm gay."

    A moment of silence. Without saying a word, my son got up and came to sit on the couch on my left. He put his arm on my back, just like he'd done earlier in the hot tub.

    "I love you, Dad," he said calmly, and it was all I could do not to break down and start crying. Still, my jaw shivered and both my hands started to shake. Logan took my left hand in his right and gave it a strong squeeze.

    "Have you ever been with a man?" he asked, remaining much calmer than I'd expected.

    "Yes. I'm not proud to admit it, b– but," I started to stutter and found it hard to speak.

    "Shh," Logan rubbed my back. "It's okay. Tell you what: it's your birthday, so today I'm on your side no matter what. We can talk about it some other day, we can fight about it some other day if necessary. But for today, I want you to know that I will always love you," he squeezed my hand even stronger as he said those last few words. 

    "I– I love you too, son. More than anything."

    We hugged, and I finally let a few tears fall.

    "Would you like to talk more about this?" Logan whispered in my ear.

    There was so much to talk about, but I didn't know where to begin. The two decades of sex with unknown men? Coming out to his mother and the inevitable divorce? Entering my 50s as an openly gay man? 

    "No. We can talk about it some other time," I said in my son's ear. "Let's do something else now."

    We both turned around and noticed a smiling Owen looking at us from his armchair. For a few moments, I'd forgotten he was even here. Which is funny, since this would've never happened without him.

    The whole thing felt like a dream, but it wasn't. Owen took the bottle of scotch and refilled our drinks. We went out to the balcony for another cigar. Overlooking the breathtaking Manhattan skyline, we talked about the weather getting colder. The upcoming election in a few days. The shop where I'd bought the cigars. Could it be possible? I'd said those words out loud, and the world kept turning?

    Back in the living room, and another glass of scotch. Owen was now telling us a story of when he had fucked someone in the hot tub at the gym. We laughed, especially Logan, who found it particularly funny and interesting and asked all sorts of questions. And then, it was time for a confession coming from him.

    "You know, I've always wondered what it's like to get fucked," my son said, almost nonchalantly. 

    "Oh, really?" Owen asked, equally casual.

    "Yeah," Logan said. Whether it was the alcohol, or what I'd just done – Logan had decided to open up as well. "When I was in college, I had the opportunity to try. And I never went for it. And I've been wondering 'what if,' you know? Just... curious about it."

    "Well, would you do it now, if the opportunity presented itself?" Owen asked, cool as a cucumber. I just sat back, unable to believe what I was hearing and how this whole evening was unrolling.

    "Yeah, I think I might," my son nodded.

    "What kinda man would you do it with?" Owen asked. A moment of silence followed and I could feel a charge in the air.

    "A guy who is bigger than me," Logan eventually replied, his voice taking on a tone I'd never quite heard before. "Someone strong, but also someone who would make sure I enjoyed it. A large body, nice muscles. Plenty of tattoos." This was getting oddly specific. 

    "But also someone patient, who would take the time to teach me," Logan continued. A quiet moment followed. Then Owen smirked and looked right at my son.

    "Maybe you should go for it," he said.

    "Maybe I should," Logan replied. He set down his drink and got up and walked over to Owen. I realized I was holding my breath. I had no idea what the hell was going on, but I didn't want to interrupt it. I watched as my son reached over and put his hand on Owen's crotch. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, and I could see Logan's fingers moving along Owen's shaft. I could tell he was hard. I realized I was too.

    They both suddenly looked at me, almost as if they expected me to tell them what to do next.

    "M– Maybe we should go to the bedroom," I suggested. So we did.

    While Owen and Logan were standing at the foot of my bed, I was over by the dresser taking off my tie. I was transfixed at the sight of Owen moving closer to my son and leaning in to kiss him. I was still shocked that all of this was happening. Even after what Owen had told me recently, knowing that Logan had these interests was one thing. Actually SEEING the two of them make out was definitely another. No longer worried about what Logan might think, and feeling so freed by that, I started rubbing my own hard cock as I watched them.

    Owen was now unbuttoning Logan's shirt, then undoing his belt and opening up his pants. The larger man helped my son off with his clothes, and for a moment I was reminded of when I would help Logan undress as a boy. He was all man now, even bigger and bulkier after a year of working out. With only his short boxer briefs remaining, Logan closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Owen's hands roaming over his muscles. The muscles Owen had helped build up. Looking at Logan, I allowed myself to think something that I normally wouldn't — my boy was a stud. Maybe not in the same way Owen was, but Logan had achieved so much this past year, physically. I was proud of him, and in this moment, I felt no shame in being turned on as I watched Owen slide down my son's underwear, allowing his rock-hard cock to pop out.

    After tossing that last article of clothing aside, Owen started stroking Logan and they kissed again, staying like that for a little while. As Owen's hand slowly moved, I noticed some glistening at the end of Logan's dick. My son was incredibly turned on by all this, just as I was.

    "Your turn, Dad," I heard Owen say. It felt strange to hear him call me that, but in these circumstances it also felt incredibly sexy. I stepped forward and Owen got to work on my shirt buttons, moving slowly but sensually. Just past Owen, I saw Logan move to one side so he could get an unobstructed view of me. My son was stroking his hard cock as he watched Owen undress me.

    Soon, my own underwear was being removed and I started stroking myself as well. I wondered if my son could see the precum oozing from my cockhead. Owen pushed me backward gently and I sat on the bed, leaning back. He did the same to Logan and then my son was next to me on the bed. We looked at one another for a moment and smiled. The lightness I felt was incredible, beyond anything the alcohol could possibly have brought me. A few months ago I never would have imagined I'd come out to my son. And now here we were, naked on a bed together and stroking as we both watched our muscle-god friend and trainer strip down.

    After Owen kicked away the clothes he'd been wearing, he got on his knees at the foot of the bed between Logan and me. He put one hand on each of our bent knees, and looked back and forth between us, seeming rather satisfied with himself. I felt him squeeze my knee, and then Owen looked over at my son.

    "Turn over," was all he said, and Logan, looking nervous and excited, flipped over onto his stomach and then looked back at Owen over his shoulder.

    "Damn, that's one nice ass," Owen said with admiration and gave my son a slap on the ass. He crouched down at the end of the bed and grabbed Logan's hips, sliding my son closer. Then his hands started working Logan's firm cheeks. I had to agree, my son had ended up with a very nice bubble butt after all that training. I couldn't see it from where I was reclining but I knew Owen's fingers were getting closer to Logan's hole, brushing the edges of it and teasing that super sensitive area. I wondered if my son had ever had anyone play with his ass before. Thoughts that would normally never cross my mind suddenly seemed okay here tonight. 

    Watching Logan's face as Owen's fingers started working his hole directly was a pleasure unto itself. His mouth was open but his eyes were closed. He let out soft moans, and occasionally took in a quick sharp breath. I knew what was most likely coming next and I couldn't wait to see him react.

    When Owen leaned in and his tongue made contact with Logan's hole, the moans went from soft to loud pretty quickly. Though I'd never experienced his talents myself in this area, I had no doubt Owen was a master at eating ass. I was certain he'd gotten countless bottom boys wet and ready for his cock this way. It turned me on so much that my only son was going to be added to that list, right in front of me. My cock was rock hard but I'd stopped stroking it. I knew I'd want to cum at the same time as one of them, and I was in no rush to have any of this end.

    Owen was really going at it, and I could see him spreading Logan's cheeks wider to get his tongue as deep as possible. My son was now letting loose with cries of "Oh god!" and "Fuck yes!" His eyes were closed and a huge smile was plastered across his face. That smile I'd loved since the day I first saw it over 25 years ago. I reached out with my hand and ran it through his hair, rubbing the back of his head softly. My big little boy. He responded with small head movements and suddenly I felt us more connected than ever. I marveled again at this moment we were sharing.

    After a while, Owen stopped his feast and stood back up. His hand returned to Logan's ass and I knew he was sliding at least one finger in, maybe two, and they were going in much more easily now. Logan didn't give any sign of discomfort, but he was quieter since the intense feeling of the rimming had stopped. Owen worked his hole for a minute and then my son opened his eyes and looked at me, and then back at Owen. We all knew it was time.

    "Flip over now," Owen ordered, and Logan quickly got onto his back. I could see his erection wobbling around, and there was a good amount of precum leaking out. I loved knowing how turned on my son was by this, so excited and unafraid. There was still some uncertainty about his movements though. His ass was almost at the end of the bed, so at first he spread his legs around Owen's, almost like he expected something missionary style. Then he started to pull his legs up but stopped.

    "How should I... ?" he started, trailing off.

    "Just relax," Owen cut him off, with a reassuring tone. "I'll make sure you're right where you need to be."

    Then he grabbed both of Logan's legs and pushed him higher up on the bed. I had moved close to the center of the bed while watching them, and so Owen ended up shoving Logan right up against me. My son's back was against my chest and his head rested on my left collarbone. Instinctively I wrapped my arms around his chest to steady him, and the sudden heat of his whole body against mine was almost overwhelming. I felt my heart racing. My hard cock was pressed into his lower back on his right side, right below his ribcage. If Logan was bothered by that, or by any aspect of suddenly being up against me like this, he gave no indication. But I knew his mind was elsewhere.

    Owen climbed onto the bed on his knees, and grabbed Logan's legs at the back of the thigh. He spread them and pushed them back toward Logan, with my son's knees getting close to his shoulders. I knew from my own experience that this was ideal for face-to-face fucking, and indeed the intensity of their stare into one another's eyes was almost palpable.

    "You ready, buddy?" Owen asked in a sensual voice, smiling down at my son.

    "Fuck my ass, Owen," was Logan's response, and I wondered if he felt my cock throb right after he said that.

    Owen gently eased himself forward, and I could hear – and feel – my son breathing heavily and rapidly. Then he cried out "Fuck!" and starting squirming around. Not to try to move away from Owen or escape, just in response to the intense and likely painful sensations he was feeling for the first time.

    "Just relax, buddy," Owen said softly. 

    "Fuck!" my son cried out as Owen resumed pushing forward. I held my boy to me tighter like he were a baby, and moved my head slightly so I could whisper into his ear.

    "You have to relax, son," I told him. "Relax and push out a little. It will hurt less, and pretty soon it will start feeling good. Once you get used to having him inside you."

    "Okay," he said back to me softly. He reached up and I took his hand in one of mine. As grown as my son was, my hands were still a bit larger than his. I squeezed tightly and interlaced my fingers with his. We held onto one another. This feeling of connection with Logan was both paternal and erotic, but somehow beyond both. I was holding my son while he was getting fucked for the first time. Helping him get through it, because I'd gone through it before. Because there was no one better to guide him. Because that's what dads are supposed to do. 

    I thought back to the first time I'd taken a cock. How exciting and scary it was. I wondered how it might have been to have someone else there helping me through it. I caught my breath when I remembered that while I didn't have a mentor there with me, Logan had been there. He hadn't known what I was doing in the next room, of course. But the fact that he was there during my first time, and that now I was here for his... I almost couldn't process all the feelings that came up for me at that moment. But chief among them was definitely how much I loved for my boy.

    I coached Logan through the next few minutes as Owen slid further into him. Telling him to take deep breaths. Owen could see what was happening and he stayed quiet, though he and I made eye contact a few times and the tender expression on his face made me melt a little. Owen normally looked like such a tough guy, so when he smiled it felt extra special. So much had passed between him and me over the years. I never would have guessed it was building toward this, but I was so glad things had unfolded the way they had.

    Eventually I felt that Logan had moved past the worst of the discomfort. He was more relaxed and comfortable, and he let go of my hand to reach down to his own cock. The fact that my son was even harder now than he was before – possibly harder than he's ever been – was a sign that Owen was doing a good job. 

    "Fuck, if you could feel his cock, Dad," Logan said to me unexpectedly. Owen and I looked at each other and traded a quick smile.

    "I've felt it before, son," was all I told Logan in response as I continued to rub his chest. My son just smiled when I said that, and responded through gritted teeth, "I can't wait to hear about it sometime."

    As Owen got going again at a good pace, I felt Logan finally start to relax back into me more. Without thinking too much about it, I reached around and slipped my right hand behind his knee, pulling his leg back toward us more. With me holding it back, Owen let go of his leg and they shifted positions slightly. I think Owen was able to go a little deeper because Logan started softly whimpering again. But this time there were short gasps coming from him as well, and he was slowly stroking his hard cock in rhythm with Owen's thrusts. Logan was starting to understand how the pain gives way to pleasure when everything's happening in the right way.

    Owen settled into a gentle rhythm that also seemed to work well for Logan. It was working for me, too — my son's small back and forth movements were sliding the skin of my cock up and down where I was pressed into his back. We stayed like that for a long while. I think all of us felt how powerful this moment was, and time didn't matter. Everything was perfect.

    "Oh god," my son cried out, almost sounding surprised. "I'm gonna cum!" I realized that Owen must be hitting right against Logan's prostate. That huge cock was hitting that special spot inside my son and giving him that jolt that I knew well, and craved so often. Logan was frantically stroking his cock, as if he was afraid he might burst if he wasn't able to release right then.

    As spurts of cum burst forth and splattered across Logan's chest and stomach, a satisfied smile spread across Owen's face. He wasn't smiling at his own pleasure, but at Logan's. I could tell he was pleased to have given Logan – and me as well – this special experience. His eyes closed and he spoke, still grinning.

    "Get ready for my cum, buddy," he told Logan. And that was all the warning my son got. Just as his own orgasm was ending, Owen's began, and I thought about how Logan was feeling that sensation for the very first time. A man's cock inside of you, pulsing and getting bigger than it was before; the knowledge that his seed was filling you up, making you his in that moment. Marking you, seeping into your insides. I wondered if this was something Logan would want more of in the future, or if it was a one-time thing for him. Either way, I was glad to be here and witness my son's first time.

    I leaned in to gently kiss my son on his temple, like I had often done when he was a boy. Looking at his load spread across his abdomen, I noticed a few drops of cum on my arms that were still wrapped around his chest. Before I could fully realize what was happening, I felt my own release begin. The movement of my son against my cock had gotten me to that point so gradually I hadn't noticed; I'd been fixated on what Logan was experiencing.

    I moaned softly and I knew my son probably felt the warm wetness against his back. We were all breathing heavily, and Owen finally stopped his motions, though he didn't let go of Logan's leg. I was still holding on to my son's other leg. I think all of us were unwilling to let the moment go, wanting to remain intertwined in one another, feeling each other's skin and cum and heavy breathing.

    Sighing deeply, Logan fully relaxed his head back onto my shoulder. Looking down I could see him smiling at me and his eyes had a glint of amusement and adventure in them. 

    "Happy birthday, Dad," he chuckled, and I leaned forward and kissed his lips.

— The End —

Read more about young Owen in New York in 

Summer in New York

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