A few years ago, I was talking to an 18-year-old college freshman. (I actually asked her to send me a photo of her ID because of how young she looked.) We texted for a couple of weeks, and she was sexy as fuck. Then, just as we were arranging to meet, she admitted she wasn't a college freshman but a high school senior, and she still lived with her parents. AND she wanted me to fuck her at their house while they're asleep.
I thought about it for a few days. I'd be lying if I said the thought didn't turn me on. When you've had as much sex as I have, you need to keep looking for new ways to keep it fresh and exciting. So what the hell! I went ahead with it. She snuck me into the house in the middle of the night and I stealthily walked by all the family photos in the living room... including photos of her dad with his shotgun. Luckily, the whole thing went without an incident. A week later, I was back on a Sunday to fuck her in her parents' bed while they were in church.
Karma's a bitch, though, and it came back to bite me in the ass in the most unexpected way. Here I was, less than a month after meeting my teenage son. We were just starting to get closer. I'd been telling him all about the women I was dating in London. Along with work and politics, women were one of the topics my father and I always bonded over. Granted, Callum never brought up any girls his own age, but I just figured he's a shy teenager. Somehow, even though I was from probably the gayest city in America, it hadn't even entered my mind that my son might be gay. And what a way to find out: catching him sucking a guy's cock in the middle of my Halloween party.
I shut the bathroom door as soon as I realized what was going on. It took me a few seconds. Everything seemed very blurry. I didn't want to embarrass Callum and I didn't want to cause a scene; but a part of me wanted to bust inside that bathroom, grab that man and shout "Get your hands off my son, you fucking creep!"
A few seconds passed, and the bathroom door opened. Callum peeked out.
"We need to talk," I said to him.
"Okay," he replied with his head bent down, looking at the floor.
I went to my bedroom and I could hear him following me. There were a few people there and I asked everyone to leave the room. I shut the door and looked at my son.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my hands on his shoulders, almost shaking him.
"I'm fine, I swear," he sounded nearly desperate.
"Did that man hurt you or anything?"
"No! It was fine... I was okay with it."
"Are you drunk?"
"I've had two gin and tonics, so I'm kinda tipsy, but I'm not drunk, I promise."
"Did you make those drinks or did that man give them to you?"
"What? No, he never gave me a drink, or anything."
I needed time to think. I was quiet for a few moments, when Callum spoke again.
"Dad, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that here. But I'm fine. And what we did... You know I'm old enough so it's legal here and everything. I just –"
"Stop talking!" I interrupted him more harshly than I'd intended. I didn't want to intimidate him. I realized I didn't want anything other than to make sure that he was okay. And then another realization hit me: he'd just called me "Dad" for the first time.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked one last time.
Finally, I took a step forward and gave my son a hug. It felt weird – I was nearly naked – but I wanted him to know I wasn't mad at him, especially not for being gay, if that's what he was. We'd hugged before, but this was by far our longest hug. I closed my eyes and I felt Callum's hands rest on my bare back. He was tense all over, I could tell, but he slowly started to calm down in my arms. I could also feel an unusual smell. Then I realized that just a couple of minutes ago my son had been sucking another man's cock, so it might still be on his breath.
"Let's go back to the party, son," I said and I let go. Paul, my neighbor who'd had his dick sucked was gone, and Callum and I didn't speak about the incident for the rest of the evening.
"Let's go back to the party, son."
"Are you okay?"
"Daddy's gonna give you a reward if you keep doing that."
I woke up with a jolt, startled by my dream. I took a few seconds to calm down and I checked the time. It was completely dark out, but it was almost seven o'clock. No point in going back to sleep now, so I lay awake for a while.
What happened a few days ago at Dad's party was insane, but it led to possibly the highlight of my relationship with him: he'd called me "son" for the first time. And not just offhandedly, but... affectionately. And I called him "Dad." That was okay now, and would be forevermore.
And he wasn't the only man who'd called me "son" that night. Unfortunately, Paul had left without giving me his flat number, so I didn't know where to find him now. Sometimes, when I was horny, I considered going to Dad's building and knocking on every door until I found Paul. Or maybe I could ask my father? He'd definitely know. But how would I even put it? "Hey Dad, you know that man whose cock you caught me sucking? Can you please give me his flat number, so I can go suck on it some more?"
Being a gay teenager, it felt like everyone else around me was having more sex than me. I had schoolmates who'd been doing it for years (or at least they were bragging about doing it). My options were much more limited. Now, it finally felt like it was my turn.
I reached down, grabbing my cock in all of its morning glory. I needed something to jerk off to, so I went to the same message thread that I'd been rereading for the past few days: Sunday's exchange between my father and Cat.
I stopped reading and closed my eyes for a few moments, enjoying the sensation while stroking. The fact that my father referred to me "sucking a man's cock" so bluntly, so lewdly... My mum, the nurse, always used the word "penis." With Dad, it was straight to business.
I had to slow down my stroking, or I was about to cum. Even though I wasn't interested in all these women my dad was fucking, the fact that he had SUCH an insane sex life, and he was talking about it with me without even knowing I was his son... It was all straight out of my wildest sex dreams. I mean, I'd seen plenty of porn (both gay and straight) with this kind of scenarios, but I never thought there were actual real people whose sex lives were like this. And of course, I had to push it even further...
I was nearing the edge again, but it was too late to slow down now. I went faster instead, picturing my dad and I having a threesome. He said it himself he'd be cool with it! In a matter of weeks, I'd gone from having no dad to having the coolest dad in the world!
With a huge smile on my face, cum started to erupt out of my uncut cock and land all over my belly. I could hear Dad's voice in my head: "Good boy!"
Catfishing my father was one of the best ideas I ever had. He didn't even know just how close I felt to him thanks to the secrets he confided in Cat. It was the weekend again and he and I were about to have lunch. I insisted we meet in front of his building, hopeful that I might see Paul again, which unfortunately didn't happen. Once we'd sat down at a Thai restaurant nearby, Dad got a bit more serious.
"Callum, there's something I need to ask of you."
"Go ahead," I said, slightly apprehensive of his tone.
"I want you to know that I trust your mother."
"Oookay." What the hell was that supposed to mean?
"And what I wanna do is a pure formality. Just something that we do once, and then we can forget all about it."
"I don't understand. What is it that you want us to do?"
He took a deep breath before saying, "I want us to take a DNA test. A paternity test, more precisely. Just to be a 100% sure that –"
"That you're my father," I finished his sentence for him.