November 2008

 

JOSH:

    For most of my formative years, I was an only child. Better yet: the only child of divorced wealthy parents. If you were to ask me, that was the ideal situation. Then, a month before my 13th birthday, my brother Kris was born. All that meant was, with everyone paying more attention to him, I had even less supervision! By the time I was halfway through my teenage years, I had more excitement and experience under my belt than some people did in their whole lives.

    I left Dad's house a few years later to go to college, after which I moved to London. Because of that, Kris and I didn't really "grow up together," but ironically, that only made us closer. I'd come back to San Francisco several times a year, and he and I would quickly make up for lost time. My little brother admired me, which definitely fed my ego. He would confide in me when it came to stuff like school and girls, and I could tell he found it easier to talk to me about certain things than consult our dad.

    The day before Thanksgiving 2008, I was at Heathrow Airport with my buddy Ben, a fellow expat in London. We were flying back to the States for the holiday, and like the horny 25-year-old that I was, I couldn't think of anything but sex.

    "Airports make me so horny," I said to my friend as we passed a few female flight attendants. I reached down my jeans to adjust my bulge, which was growing bigger.

    "Leaving the house makes you horny, Josh," my buddy noted. "Then again, staying in doesn't stop you either."

    Later on, we took our jackets and belts off as we waited in line to go through security. Ben noticed that I'd picked purple boxer briefs to wear under my low-rise jeans that day.

    "Nice undies," he teased me.

    "And from what I can tell you're not wearing any," I said, pointing out Ben's bare midriff.

    "Nope." My buddy pulled down the front of his pants to flash his pubic hair and the top of his cock to me, real quick without anyone else noticing.

    "Fucker," I laughed, shaking my head.

    There were two things I envied Ben for: his good looks, and his sexuality. Ben loved beautiful women; we usually went for the same type. More often than not, we could get with whatever girl we wanted. But in addition to that, Ben also hooked up with guys. Some of the most fun stories he told me involved another man (or two, or ten). I'd had plenty of freaky experiences with girls; but having grown up in SF, I knew that the world of man-on-man sex went even deeper, and got even seedier. At times, I wondered if I could truly call myself "kinky" if I didn't try it at least once...

    That day on the plane, I had a semi-boner that made it difficult for me to get comfortable. It didn't help that the flight attendant tending to me was sexy as fuck! I tried flirting with her, but she quickly and politely shut me down. Her coworker, though, an obviously-gay guy, seemed more than willing to help me with the growing bulge between my legs, which he kept eyeing. When I got up to go to the bathroom, he stopped me to say "let me know if you need anything else," which was a pretty clear insinuation, especially accompanied by the cheeky wink he gave me.

    For a moment, I actually considered saying yes. By that point, I still hadn't had sex on a plane, and it was very high up on my bucket list (a bucket list which pretty much solely consisted of sex acts). And what's naughtier than sex on a plane, if not sex on a plane with another man? Still, I smiled at the guy and shook my head, going to the bathroom by myself to piss and blow a load in the toilet.

    Flying west, I'd left London in the morning and arrived in California in the morning as well. By this point, Dad was on his third wife and they'd also had a son, four-year-old Blake. When I got to the house, I went straight to my room and got down to my purple underwear, eager to take a shower after my long flight.

    On my way to the bathroom, I passed a sulky Kris, who went into his room and slammed the door shut. He was 12 now, so it wasn't that unusual for him to be broody. Still, I wondered what was wrong, and I decided to go check on him first.

    "Knock knock," I tapped on his door. "Hey man, you alright?" I poked my head in.

    "I'm fine," he said, slumping down on his bed, and I could tell he was lying.

    "No, you're not. What's wrong?" I came in and closed the door behind me.

    Kris looked at me. Almost by reflex, I flexed my muscles, like I always did when I was shirtless.

    "Fine," Kris sighed. I could tell there was a story coming, so I went to sit next to him on his bed. 

    "I... I got a blowjob the other day," he said, staring down at his knees.

    ("Holy shit," I thought. I'd been 13 my first time, and I thought THAT was early. He had me beat by a year.)

    "Okay," I said calmly. I hated seeing my brother like this, looking guilty as if he'd just committed a sin. "Who was it?"

    I wondered if it was one of the girls in his grade. But then...

    "Victor," my brother said his best friend's name.

    Once again, I was surprised, but I knew I mustn't let it on, so I just nodded and said "Okay."

    "But I'm not gay!" Kris quickly shouted defensively.

    "Whoa, buddy, it's okay!" I said and I put my arm around him. "It's okay whether you are or you ain't."

    "Well, I ain't! He just wanted to try it and I let him. But I still like girls! I swear."

    "Hey, you don't have to swear anything," I shook his shoulder. "I told you, it's fine either way. As long as no one forced you to do something you don't wanna do, there's nothing to worry about."

    For a second there, I was worried Kris might start to cry. But he seemed to be getting calmer.

    "Have... have you ever done it with a guy?" he wanted to know.

    As his significantly older brother, I knew Kris looked up to me as a role model. All I could do right now is be honest with him.

    "I've never... gotten a blowjob from a guy," I said. "But when I was around your age I fooled around with some buddies as well. But that never made me worry I might be gay."

    "I think Victor is."

    "That's fine. You don't treat him any differently if he is, you hear me?!"

    "Of course," Kris nodded.

    "And you... just do whatever feels fun, and if it doesn't feel fun you don't have to do it. Just send me an email anytime if you want to talk about it."

    "Okay," he finally smiled.

    "Now, I need to go shower because I stink," I said, lifting my arm and shoving my hairy armpit in my brother's face.

    "Get off me! Gross!" he laughed and shoved me off his bed.

    On my way to the bathroom, I thought once again about my buddy Ben, and the male flight attendant. "Even my little brother has more experience with guys than I do," I concluded.

 

January 2021

 

    I never let my son know I'd seen the texts to "Cat." Before Callum came back from the bathroom, I put his phone on silent and laid it on the table with the screen facing down. He had no reason to suspect anything. I didn't want to confront him just yet. I needed time to process.

    During the remainder of the time we spent at the restaurant, I tried keeping a neutral face. Callum started to talk about the music that was playing and how he loved the artist, and it was so easy to just focus on something else and not even address the elephant in the room (or, "the catfish in the room" in this case, I guess).

    After lunch, I did some shopping before heading back to my flat. On the way back, I bumped into Paul, my neighbor who got sucked by Callum on Halloween. I hadn't seen him in weeks, and I remembered the last thing he'd told me. "He WAS good," he'd said, referring to my son's oral skills.

    I bought a bottle of scotch while I was out, and I opened it as soon as I was in my living room. I had several glasses one after the other, trying not to think too hard. Yet, I couldn't help but think back of all the photos and videos I'd shared with "Cat." All the saucy confessions. All the sexts and cumshots caught on camera. FUCK, I was such a fool not to see right through it! Just as I started to get worked up, I got a message on my phone.

    "Sorry, I didn't see that pic until now. YUM!! 😛"

    It was "Cat" reacting to the dick pic I'd sent from the restaurant. 

    "What am I doing, THERE IS NO CAT!!" I told myself. I paced around the room, imagining my son sending this from his phone. Just then, I got a second text.

    "I wish I could see more," it said.

    "Yeah? What do you wanna see?" I sent, feeling angry, confused, drunk... and horny, all at the same time.

    "I wanna see you cum 💦".

    "Why do you wanna see me cum?"

    It took a while to get a response. "Why do you wanna see me cum, Callum?" I said loudly to my phone.

    "Because you're hot. And it turns me on," came a text back. "I'm curious to see what you look like when it happens. I wanna know all about you."

    "He's curious about me..." I thought. I continued to pace, my head whirling. Then, before I knew it, I'd typed "We should do it on cam so it's live," and hit send.

    "I don't have a cam or mic here," I read.

    "Such fucking bullshit!" I laughed out loud. I really should've seen through this weeks ago. It was my fault, really.

    "But I'd love to watch you. I can still text you while we do it," said the latest message I received.

    "Yeah? You want that? Let's do it then?!" I said out loud. I texted to confirm the plan. I walked up to my computer and turned the cam on, taking my shirt off and waiting for "Cat" to come online.

    "You look so hot, Daddy 🔥🔥" read the next message.

    Daddy. That's what Cat called me. What... Callum called me.

    "Here I am baby," I said, flexing my abs and winding my torso. I'd had plenty of experience performing for girls on camera; I knew just what my angles were. And now, here I was performing for my own son.

    "Your body looks great 😍" said the following message. I raised my arms and flexed my biceps, making my pecs bounce up and down. Looking at my own video, I was turning myself on. 

    "Soooo fucking hot," Callum continued encouraging me. He was a rather skinny boy. Did he really admire my physique? Was it admiration or sexual attraction? Where exactly was the line between the two?

    "Look at that muscle, baby!" I said out loud, getting closer to the camera and showing off my bicep some more. Next, I tweaked my nipples and bounced my chest right in front of the cam.

    "Wish I could take those nips in my mouth," read the message.

    "Yeah? You wanna suck on Daddy's nips? You wanna nurse on Daddy's muscle tits?"

    It was then that I realized I was drunk. I was saying things I'd never said before... and I was saying them knowing fully well my son was the one watching the show.

    "Fuck yeah!" he responded over text.

    Was he hard by now? He had to be hard by now. In my pants, I wasn't soft either. I unbuttoned my jeans, and pulled down the zipper while still seductively winding my body.

    "So hot! You could be a stripper 😈" was the feedback I received.

    "I'll be a stripper for you, baby," I said, and kicked off my shoes so I could quickly get out of my jeans. Now, I was standing in front of the camera naked, expect for the red boxer briefs I had on. That's when I realized... "Cat" was the one who picked out this underwear for me! It was Callum all along, planning my sexy Halloween costume, encouraging me to show off even back then.

    "Remember these, baby?" I said, snapping the waistband of the boxer briefs against my skin. "You told me to get them. You said I looked hot in them. You said they make my bulge look huge."

    "They do!! 🔥🔥 It does!"

    I grabbed my crotch and rubbed my balls and my semi-hard cock through the thin fabric.

    "You told me to wear a slutty Halloween costume," I said into the camera, "and show off in front of my friends and neighbors. Even my son was there."

    "I'm sure he loved what he saw."

    "You think?" I asked, turning around and showing off my ass as well.

    "Oh, I bet. He got to see just how hot his father is."

    "Maybe he liked what he saw," I said, pulling the underwear down and exposing the top of my asscheeks and a few inches of crack.

    "There's no way he didn't! Show me more," came the next message.

    Slowly, I swayed my ass left to right and pulled down the underwear until it was all the way under my cheeks. With my hands reaching back, I made my glutes jiggle right in front of the cam.

    Meanwhile, in the front, my cock was only getting bigger. It was time to stop teasing. I pulled down the boxer briefs and left them on the floor. Finally, I turned around until my fully-hard cock was on video. Video which Callum was watching.

    "FUCK! That's so big!" came a message. "I wanna see it cum."

    "Patience, Kitty Cat," I teased, slowly stroking my hardon. I went on like this for several minutes. By then, I was leaking precum and using it as lube on myself. I was jacking off leisurely. It was enough to keep me hard, but not so much as to make me cum just yet.

    "I wanna see you cum," my son begged. He seemed obsessed with it.

    "You will baby, I promise. I'll cum for you," I said.

    Then, the following message said: "Wish I were there on my knees in front of you."

    "Yeah? What would you do if you were?" I asked out loud.

    "I'd take that huge daddy dick in my mouth. Suck on it until it's all the way down my throat."

    Suddenly, the visual of my son sucking Paul came back to mind.

    "I'd keep sucking on it until all that daddy sperm came out."

    "Yeah? You want my baby-making jizz?" I grunted, edging myself faster.

    "Yes! I want your baby-making cum down my throat," my son replied, talking about the same cum that'd made him.

    "You fucking perv!" I said out loud. And it wasn't meant for "Cat"; but Callum himself.

    "Fuck, yeah, I am. And you are too, aren't you, Daddy? Admit it!"
   "I'm a fucking perv," I grunted drunkenly. "And I wanna shoot this load down your cum-guzzling throat!"

    "Yes, Daddy. Make me your cum-eating slut. Shoot down my throat! Make me swallow it down."

    "FUCK!"

    The fake photos of Cat and images of my son all blurred together in my mind. The dirty talk, whoever it was coming from, was pushing me over the edge.

    "Fuck, I'm gonna cum! Open up! I'm gonna cum!!!" I shouted and started blowing my load right in front of the camera. I'd been waiting to cum since this afternoon at the restaurant, and now it was here. Sweet release. Encouraged by my pervy son, who was probably blowing his own load at the same time, watching this in his room.

    "Oh, baby. Oh, baby!" I started to pant as load after load shot out of my cock. Even I was surprised by how much I was cumming. In my drunken state, it was getting difficult to stand.

    "Fuck, that was so hot! I came while watching you," came a message just as I shook the last few drops of cum off my dick. It all ended up on the carpet, and I didn't even give a shit about cleaning it up. 

    And then, one more message came. It said: "I wish that really went down my throat."

    I looked at the screen, at my own video of myself with my cock in my hand, and I said, "Maybe we'll do that soon, baby."

    With that, I shut the computer and staggered to my bed, where I passed out until morning.