"Is this what you wanted? You wanted Daddy to fuck your pussy?" "Ahhh, yeah." "That's the way. Open that pussy up. Take Daddy's cock. You want Daddy to cum inside you tonight? You wanna feel your little brothers and sisters swimming inside your hole?" "Fuck, Dad, yes" …
"AH!" I stirred awake in the middle of the night, haunted by dreams of what happened between Callum and me. Next to me in my bed, a young woman who I'd met a few days ago was silently sleeping. She'd agreed to spend the night at my place, probably under the presumption that we would have sex, but when it came time to "do the deed," I couldn't get myself to go through with it so she agreed to just cuddle and go to sleep. I hadn't had sex with anyone since Callum a couple of weeks ago… and I couldn't figure out how the hell I'd gotten myself in this situation.
When I had woken up the morning after fucking my son, I felt immense guilt. If this were any other sex partner, I'd tell them to leave and never talk to me again, for their own benefit. But this was Callum; I couldn't possibly cut him out of my life! So what was I to do? While it was happening, it was evident both of us enjoyed it. But in the light of day, things felt very different.
I avoided Callum for a few days after that, until Father's Day came. It was the poor kid's first time spending Father's Day with his dad… I just wished he'd gotten a better dad than me. He didn't seem to feel that way, however. He thought I was the "World's Best Dad," judging by the present he got me. Indeed, it felt like Callum was fine, and I was the only person making a big deal out of this. But this was a massive deal, wasn't it?! How could we just pretend everything was a-okay?
After our Father's Day dinner that evening, I confessed my feelings of confusion to my son, who seemed much more comfortable with the situation than I was. He assured me that this was alright, that he was alright. That he wanted more. That night, he got more, when he started sucking my cock while I was asleep until I blew my load in his mouth. He swallowed every last drop of it, tasting the spunk that made him and going to sleep in my arms.
It had been a few days since. I went back on the dating apps in an effort to find a girl to distract me from what was going on but the success of that was limited, as proven by the unfucked woman sleeping next to me right now. I'd been woken up by yet another dream of Callum and I fucking. Dreams like this came to me most nights now. Feeling sweat running down my forehead, I checked my phone on the nightstand, just so I'd have something to do. There was a text from my son sent recently, at 1:03 AM, with just three simple words: "I love you 😘❤️"
Callum and I texted all the time now, even more than usual. If he had his way, he would spend every night in my bed, but he still had to spend most of the time at his mom's. At times, when reading Callum's flirty messages, I realized just how similar he sounded to "Cat" (very understandable, since they were the same person). Cat had managed to make me grow attached to her without even meeting her – something no other woman on a dating app had ever done.
Of course, the fact Callum was a guy and not a girl was fucking with my mind as well. I'd always been extremely open-minded – growing up in San Francisco had made sure of that – and I'd had my fair share of experiences with guys, but only when women were involved as well. I remembered conversations with male friends and acquaintances, who insisted they were straight even though they'd had sex with men. Their rationalization of it usually boiled down to "any hole is a goal." But it wasn't like that with Callum and me, not at all! When we were in the midst of it, I wanted to please him, to pleasure him, to give him what he wants. And my son seemed pretty clear on what he wants. Which left me with the question: What do I want?
For now, I wanted to go back to San Francisco and see the rest of my family again. Here in London, Callum and I always ended up alone in my flat, where temptations were high. In California, we'd be staying at my dad's house again, surrounded by other people, which would hopefully help us see some clarity… whatever that means.
But before jetting off, there was one more thing Callum wanted to do here: go to London Pride. He'd been planning it for weeks with his mates from school, and I made sure to book us tickets so we would miss neither Pride in London nor the 4th of July in the States. Callum wanted me to come watch the Pride parade with him and his friends but I turned him down, seeing as I didn't want to be the only "old guy" hanging around with him and his clique. Instead, I went to a gay bar with a large patio area, and I told Callum I'd wait for him there until the parade was over.
The bar was crowded as fuck, and I felt obligated to have a few drinks just so I could keep up with everyone else. Plenty of guys tried to hit on me, but I turned them down. My son showed up a couple of hours later, wearing a flamboyant crop top and short shorts, along with plenty of rainbow patterns on his face, socks, and shoelaces.
"Is that what you chose to wear?" I said loudly so he could hear me over the noise of the crowd. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, which smudged some of the face paint that was on there.
"Yeah, you like it?" Callum turned around, showing off his exposed midriff for me.
"It's… something," I laughed.
"And the best part," my son said, pulling down the back of his shorts a bit and pulling up a waistband that said Trophy Boy on it. Callum was wearing a jockstrap, and I recognized it as the jock I'd bought him for Christmas, last time we were in SF and at a sex shop together.
I still remembered vividly what my son looked like with nothing else but that jock on. His ass looked phenomenal in it. Now, I patted his bubble butt through his shorts and said, "C'mon, let's get you a drink."
My son and his friends had managed to get their hands on some booze earlier as well, so Callum had already had a few drinks. He didn't seem drunk, but he was definitely feeling some liquid courage. He flirted with me – and with other guys at the gay bar. It was good to see him this way. I wanted my son to be confident, and I knew it wasn't always easy for him since he had a tendency to be shy. It seemed like he was growing out of it. However, I also felt a pang of… jealousy to see him attracting other men's attention like this and reveling in it. I NEVER felt jealousy like this. But today, I found myself reaching for my son's exposed lower back, feeling the sweat that was there, pulling him in so that everyone at the bar would know he was with me.
The venue was too loud to talk much, so we mostly danced. There were quite a few gay couples around us, and it almost felt like we were one of them. The other couples made out; some of them getting really explicit and letting their hands roam everywhere, from pecs to asses to growing bulges. Some of the guys were dressed sexier than others, including a few who were practically naked, which sure made the hot summer day feel even hotter.
"Come with me to the loo," my son suddenly said in my ear. I was confused by his suggestion but didn't have much time to question it, since Callum was already pulling my hand and leading me toward the bathroom.
The line for the men's room was long, but it seemed to be moving quickly. "What're doing?" I asked Callum as we waited in line.
"I just want us to have some alone time, that's all," he said coyly.
"Let's go back to my place then," I suggested. "It's only a couple of minutes away."
"No, the streets are too crowded and it'll take us longer than that. Besides, I wanna do it here. C'mon," he said, pulling me in since it was our turn to head into the men's room.
"Do WHAT here?" I asked myself as Callum led us into a stall and closed the door behind us. Plenty of guys noticed there were two of us going in one cubicle, but nobody blinked an eye.
In the narrow stall, Callum threw his arms around me and started kissing me. I could taste the liquor on his lips, mixing with the taste of booze in my own mouth. My son had definitely found his confident side today more than ever! I put my arms around Callum as well and before I knew it I was pulling off his crop top, letting it drop to the floor. More passionate kissing followed, during which I was able to completely let go and forget all of my doubts and insecurities about Callum and me. Instead, I had my hands running down his back, pulling him into my mouth and tugging on the waistband of his jockstrap.
"Take those shorts off," I said quietly as men came in and out of the restroom, pissing and talking and washing their hands. My son did as he was told, and a few seconds later his shorts were down around his ankles. Callum now stood in front of me in the jock I'd bought him, looking absolutely stunning. He knew what I really wanted to see and didn't even need me to ask him to turn around. He did it all by himself, showing off that perfect ass of his for me, flexing his glutes and driving me wild.
Unable to control myself, I dropped down to my knees and buried my tongue between Callum's asscheeks.
"AAAH!" he moaned out in pleasure. By now, everyone in the men's room probably knew there were two guys hooking up in one of the stalls. If only they knew those two guys were father and son…
I ate Callum's ass for a while, touching his smooth hole with the tip of my tongue slowly before inserting all of it in. My son moaned unrestrictedly, not giving a damn that we were in public. Indeed, he seemed to be enjoying it; he was the one who insisted we do this here rather than go back to my flat after all.
While rimming Callum, my hands traveled up his legs and stroked the outside of his thighs before turning inward. In between my son's legs, I found his teenage cock hard as a rock, leaking precum into the pouch of the jock. So far, Callum always received pleasure through his ass, whether he was hooking up with me or my buddy Ben, who'd taken Callum's virginity. But today, I wanted my son to experience a new sensation: I wanted to be the one to work on his cock. I'd jerked myself off often enough to know how to work a dick, I figured. With my hands on Callum's hips, I made him do a 180, until I was faced with the boner inside his jock and grazing it with the tip of my nose.
I took a big whiff, able to smell the precum which my son had leaked out. I licked my lips and put my hands inside his pouch, taking out his hard-on.
"Oh, fuck," Callum moaned as I started to stroke his dick. I made sure to get his precum all over my hands, so I could use it as lube and bring my son even more pleasure. I'm not sure what my son expected would happen between us in the men's room – maybe we'd just make out – but I could tell he was surprised that I'd started this at my own volition. He looked down, right into my eyes, and mouthed a single "Fuck."
I'd touched a few men's dicks before, usually while DP-ing a girl with another guy, but I'd never given anyone else an honest hand job. I always took pride in getting things right at the first go, and judging by my son's reaction I was doing everything correctly. I used long strokes from Callum's cockhead all the way to his neatly trimmed pubes. With each forward stroke, I saw more precum leaking out of my son's piss slit. Tempted by it, I rubbed my thumb against his sensitive glans and I got some precum on it before leading it to my mouth and tasting it.
"Fuck, Dad…" Callum whispered quietly so no one else could hear. I continued to jack him off, driving him close to the edge until I had him panting. "Dad, Dad… I'm gonna– I'm gonna cum!"
With that, a huge spurt of jizz shot out of my son's cock, landing all over my face. I couldn't stop now – and neither did I want to – so I kept going, gripping him tighter and stroking him faster as he shot a second, third, and fourth wad of spunk. Each rope managed to hit my cheek and my eyelid, forcing me to close one of my eyes while milking my son.
"That's it, let it all out," I said, probably loud enough for the guys outside to hear. A few more strokes back and forth, until I was certain Callum was absolutely spent. Finally, he pulled the front of his jockstrap back over his dick, and I got up off my knees until he and I were face to face.
Callum leaned forward, stuck his tongue out, and licked all of his cum off my face, with the exception of the bit that was right around my lips. I licked my lips and swallowed that bit myself, tasting my son's jizz. Then, I bent down to pick his shirt off the floor.
"Ew, I'm not putting that on," he said. "I'll just walk home shirtless."
I smiled, as Callum and I left the men's room and headed out of the bar. With the huge crowd in the streets, it took us ten times longer to get to my flat, but when we finally did, we took all our clothes off and passed out on my bed for a nap. As we cuddled, I still had a taste of Callum in my mouth, spooning him from behind with my semi in between his cheeks.