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Would You Like to Meet Him?

Category:  FATHER-SON 


    These days, most of my evenings and half of my lunchtime breaks were reserved for going on dates. I was a man on a mission! I hated it when people found excuse after excuse for why something was unattainable. When I wanted something, I went for it! And this time, the mission was: get married and have a kid by the time I'm 40.

    Today, however, I was having lunch at an overpriced vegan restaurant with my old friend Ben, who was visiting San Francisco for the summer. Ben and I went way back, back when we used to live in London in our 20s. He was originally from Massachusetts; he and I met at a party for American expats across the pond and we hit it off. I liked Ben. The only thing I didn't like was that I was never the most handsome man in the room when he was around. Fuck it. You can't compete with a professional model. (I did wonder if I had the bigger cock, however. Hmm.)

    "I still can't believe you're a dad now," I said, shoving a forkful of salad in my mouth. I hated this healthy-diet bullshit, but it was a part of my larger goal: keep fit, and even more importantly, keep my swimmers fit. 

    "Technically, I was a dad when you met me as well, I just didn't talk about it. Actually, did I even mention I had a kid at all when we lived in London?"

    "No, I don't think you ever did."

    That's right! Ben had a kid straight out of high school. He wasn't around for long, though. Ben moved to Europe by himself and the baby was raised by the mom. It wasn't until recently, when the boy graduated high school himself, that the two had reconnected.

    "It's crazy enough becoming a father to a newborn. I can't even imagine becoming a dad to a teenager overnight," I said. "Can you imagine, if a woman from my past popped up and said I had a teenage son?"

    "I can, actually," Ben said, insinuating my sordid, promiscuous past.

    "Bite your tongue," I barked. "I've got other plans."

    "Yeah? Like what?"

    "I'm getting married before I turn 40."

    "Who's the unlucky lady?" he asked in between bites of his veggie burger.

    "I'm not sure yet, but I'll figure it out."

    "You got what, two and a half years left? You better get to figuring."

    "That's plenty of time. Besides, women are always more in a rush to get married than men."

    "Is that so?"

    "It's about time. We can't be bachelors forever, as fun as it is," I said.

    Enough playing games, I'd figured earlier this year. It'd done it all. Traveled the world. Gotten the Silicon Valley job that paid me way more than I deserved. Been the best man at my father's third wedding! The only thing I'd never done, was get married and have a kid of my own.

    Now, I wasn't looking forward to changing diapers or being woken up in the middle of the night. But I did want to spread my DNA and leave something behind, as arrogant as that sounds. I quite liked my family line, and I wasn't about to let it die off with me. 

    "I just think 40 is late enough," I said to Ben a while later. "What about you?"

    "What about me?"

    "When are you settling down? You're bi, your pool is twice as large."

    I could tell Ben was getting pissed off at being interrogated like this, but it was for his own good. I just wanted him to face reality.

    "Mind your business," he barked at me.

    "I'm just saying. Don't you wanna have more kids?"

    "I... I've never thought about that," he said, looking down at his plate.

    "Well you better think about it soon. Clock's ticking for us men as well."

    I was an overachiever, and very competitive my whole life! I always thought of myself as an alpha male, before everyone started calling themself that online. Now that I'd decided I wanted to be a father, I wanted to get there as soon as possible!

    Little did I know... I already was one.

    I normally hated social media, but now that I was dating girls by the hundreds, it was coming in quite handy at making new acquaintances. I went through my list of friend requests one Saturday morning, lying in bed naked, scratching my balls with one hand and accepting every female name with the other.

    When I'd gone through the list, I jumped out of bed to head to the shower. On my way, I stopped to admire myself in the mirror, flexing a few times to boost my confidence. Fine, I wasn't a professional model like fucking Ben, but I did look good! Standing at 6'3", I had a good amount of muscle, and I was very happy with the size of my dick and balls. Soft, I was bigger than some men were when they got hard. Erect, I was big enough to make any woman choke if she tried deepthroating me. Not that I would ever do that. Well, not unless she asked.

    I took a quick shower and when I got out I had a huge boner pointing up. My balls were begging to be drained before I got started with my day.

    "Okay," I said out loud to my cock and reached for my phone again.

    However, before I had a chance to open up a porn site, I noticed a message from one of my new online friends.

    "Hey. I know this is out of the blue, but I was wondering if you remember me? x"

    I looked at the message and checked the name of the sender: Gemma. Immediately, I thought back to my London days. I'd met quite a few Gemmas there, but never anyone in the States with that name.

    I tapped on her profile and sure enough, it said she lived in London. She only had a few photos up. I couldn't remember her face, but she looked very cute. I stroked my cock, thinking back to what might've happened between us back in the day. A drunken one-night-stand, probably?

    Even though I didn't remember the girl, I decided to humor her in my message back.

    "Yeah, kinda. We met in London, right?"

    "Yes 😄😄😄," she seemed thrilled I remembered.

    I continued to jack off, leaking some precum by now. I brought a drop of it to my lips and licked it off my finger. I don't know how many other straight men felt this way, but I loved the taste of my own precum. 

    "I don't remember all the details, to be honest, I may or may not have been drunk," I typed with one hand.

    "Yeah, you were... I know this is weird, but are you available for a voice call? It'll be real quick."

    "Who the fuck is this woman?" I wondered. Is this a long-distance booty call? It's evening in the UK by now. Is she also horny, and would she be up for listening to me as I shoot my load? 

    Either way, she was cute, and I figured jerking off would be easier while talking on the phone rather than texting. I agreed to a call and a split second later my phone was ringing. A nervous British voice sounded from the other side of the line as I put my phone on speakerphone.

    "'Ello," Gemma said. "Good evenin'. Or I guess, good mornin' ovah there."

    She did not sound horny.

    "Hey," I replied, trying to sound sexy, sitting down and stroking with two hands now. Even with both hands around my hard cock, there was still a part of it left uncovered.

    "Listen, I just wan' to get this out there, so I'm sorry if I talk too qui'ly. I don't know 'ow much you remembah. We met in 2004?"

    "Aha, that sounds about right," I agreed, even though I had no idea what she was on about. By this point, I was more concerned with blowing my load than anything else. And rather than asking her to participate... maybe it would be even hotter if we did it this way?

    "It were all a bi' crazy. We met in this club in Soho. You gave me your business card, which is 'ow I found you. You still work for the same company." 

    "Yeah," I confirmed.

    "Back in those days, I– I had very li'l money," she continued, stuttering, but forcing herself to get the words out. "I was barely gettin' by and you seemed to be doin' quite well. Which is why I didn't tell you at the time. I didn't wan' you to take 'im away if you wen' back to America."

    Take WHO away?! I was barely paying attention to whoever this girl was. I'd been horny all morning. I wanted to cum and hang up the phone.

    "I'm... gettin' ahead of meself. I 'ave a son. 'E's abou' to be 16 nex' monf. Callum. That's 'is name, Callum. And I'm fairly certain... well, I'm 100% certain that... you're his dad."

    Coincidentally, just as I got the news, my balls shot out the largest load of cum I'd shot out in a very long time. Spurt after spurt of jizz came rocketing out of my dick, landing all over my freshly-showered body. The words that the woman was saying were barely registering in my mind.

    "I 'ave a son... I'm a 100% certain that... you're his dad."



    "Mmmm!! Fuck me, Daddy!"

    "You like that, boy?!"

    "Fuck yes, Daddy. Fuck my hole. Ahhh!!!"

    The skinny twink on screen let out an exaggerated moan, making me turn down the volume on my laptop so my mum wouldn't hear it. Slightly annoyed at the bottom, I continued to focus on the top: a strong hunk of a man, sweat dripping down his hairy chest as he pumped back and forth inside the twink's tight hole.

    "Yes, Daddy," I whispered to my computer, my fingers playing with my own arse. I was hard as a rock and dripping precum all over myself, but I was ignoring my erection. I was concentrating on my hole, imagining that the strong daddy was fucking me instead.

    I spent a blissful ten minutes like that until the video was over. At the end, a banner ad for a local sex shop popped up.


    "I wish I had my own card," I thought, looking at the dildos and sexy underwear on screen. I wanted... no, needed something to practise with. Still, not like I could say "Hey, Mum, can I order a sex toy to stretch my hole with?"

    I closed the ad and clicked on the search bar, typing one word only: "daddy."

    I had to browse through several pages until I found a video I hadn't watched yet. Another father-son roleplay. The twink in this one kind of looked like me. I wondered if the father looked like...

    "Whatcha doin', son?" the older actor said confidently in an American accent, walking into the generic-looking kitchen.

    "I'm doing homework," the effeminate "son" replied dramatically. He was a horrible actor; he was probably only hired because he was one of those 18-year-olds who could pass for younger.

    "Let Daddy give you a little shoulder rub," the burly man offered, and thirty seconds later the two were kissing and pulling each other's clothes off. Yup, totes realistic.

    Still, it was enough to get me going. Still keeping one hand on my hole, I now wrapped my right hand around my cock and started stroking it. The daddy on screen was just as hot as the one in the previous video. Whereas the previous actor was chubbier and hairier, this one was smoother and more muscular. I could gladly take either.

    With my finger in my hole, I imagined the daddy's cock in there. I jerked my own cock, faster and faster, until I heard my mum's voice coming from the kitchen.

    "Callum! Dinnertime! Hurry up, we need to talk."

    "I'm coming, Mum!" I shouted back, amused by my own pun, and I started to shoot my load all over my bare torso, my T-shirt held up by my chin. When I was done, I used a tissue to clean up and went to the bathroom to dispose of the evidence and to wash my hands.

    "Takeaway?" I said upon entering the kitchen, filled with the smell of Chinese food. My mum was very frugal and cooked almost every evening, so this didn't happen often.

    "Yes. Help yourself. C'mon now, while it's hot."

    She seemed weirdly eager to get me to sit down, as if I were going to run away. What was this thing she wanted to talk about? Could it be my upcoming birthday?

    We both helped ourselves to some food in awkward silence. I started eating but Mum just sat there for a few seconds, before she started speaking.

    "All right, there's no simple way to say this so here it goes. I talked to your father earlier today."

    I choked on a piece of sweet-and-sour chicken, starting to cough uncontrollably. Mum started to freak out and rushed to get me a glass of water. It took me a minute, but I finally calmed down.

    "Are you okay?" Mum asked.

    I nodded.

    "Did you hear what I said earlier?"

    Another nod, followed by more silence.

    "Did... did he call you?" I said finally.

    "No. He didn't have my number. I found and called him."

    "What made you do that?" I enquired.

    "I always said I would when you turned 16. I put it off long enough."

    "And?" I asked without showing any emotion.

    Truth is, I'm not sure how I felt. I never knew anything about my father, and I never thought to ask. My mother was a rockstar. Well, not literally; she was a nurse. But she was an excellent mum who adored me, as did my grandparents. 

    "And..." Mum continued, "Callum, this is completely up to you, but... would you like to meet him?"

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