JOSH:
Keeping in touch with people back home was increasingly difficult eight time zones away. Slowly but surely, I was developing a daily routine in London. I finally joined a gym. I discovered new favorite places to eat. So finding time to get on FaceTime with people back in California was less and less likely.
However, there was one person back home who I just HAD to talk to after what happened on Halloween. It took us a couple of weeks to make it happen but we finally had a date scheduled.
"Hey Ben," I said into the camera. I was just out the shower in nothing but some boxer briefs.
"Hey man," Ben said, suppressing a yawn. He seemed to be naked himself, and just waking up. Even with his hair a mess, my friend, the professional model, looked as handsome as ever.
After a few minutes of catching up, I finally got to what was really bothering me.
"I wanted to talk to you about Callum."
"Your son, right?"
Ben knew about my teenage son in London. Out of everyone I knew, Ben had been in the most similar situation: he didn't meet his own son until the boy was 18. And what made him the perfect person to talk to about this was the fact Ben was bi and his own son was gay as well.
"Yes. Sooo, I think he's into men," I said, talking about Callum.
"Did he tell you that?"
"Not quite. He had his mouth full," I couldn't help but crack a joke, as inappropriate as it was.
"Huh?"
"At my Halloween party, I walked in on him sucking someone's cock."
"And is that something we can laugh about or do you wanna have a serious conversation?" Ben asked sincerely.
"We can do both. But let's start with the serious stuff."
"Okay," he said, sitting upright as if to say "I'm all ears."
"Well, I'm obviously fine if he's gay or bi or whatever. But this guy was much older. Like, I think he's older than me. He's one of my neighbors."
"Shit. And how do you feel about that?"
"I don't know, conflicted? Like, Callum's of legal age here, I couldn't get the guy arrested even if I wanted to. But isn't an age gap like that a problem?"
"I don't know. How many teenagers have YOU fucked in the past few years?" Ben asked rhetorically.
"Touché."
"From my experience, gay guys go for the age-gap thing even more than everyone else. And..." my friend contemplated for a second before continuing, "not to be out of line, but the boy did grow up without a father. Sounds like his mom never married so he didn't even have a step-dad. Are you really surprised that he's falling for a father figure?"
"Shit! Is that what you think this guy is to him?"
"I don't know. I don't know your son. And I definitely don't know your neighbor. But it doesn't sound that unlikely to me."
"Does your son... Does Sam go for older men as well?"
Ben thought about it for a second before answering.
"Yes. Not exclusively, but he's into guys my age."
We both sat quietly, looking at each other's video feed for a few seconds. Wanting to break the tension a bit I said, "Your tits are looking good."
"Thanks," Ben bounced his pecs for me a couple of times. They truly were hypnotizing. "I got the home gym down in the basement, so it's easy to get to every morning."
But he knew I wasn't here to talk about his muscles, I was just deflecting. "Have you talked to Callum about any of this?" Ben stirred the conversation back to what was relevant.
"We had a talk right after I walked in on them. I wanted to make sure he was okay, that he wasn't being coerced or anything. I haven't seen him since, and I haven't brought it up. Not sure if I should."
"Maybe you can say something like 'if you wanna talk about anything, I'm always here,' and then you don't push it further than that. Let him come to you, if he wants to."
"Yeah, that makes sense," I nodded. I realized I was bouncing my pecs as well; I couldn't let my friend be the only show-off on camera today.
"When're you seeing him?"
"Monday after school," I replied. "We're going to the clinic for a paternity test."
"Oh, shit. You haven't done what yet?!"
"No. I didn't want it to be the first thing we do."
"Yeah, but... What're you gonna do if the test is negative? Are you just gonna leave London and pretend this never happened?"
"I don't know. I'm kinda... making it up as I go along."
We talked for a while longer before hanging up. Later, I sat looking at my reflection in the blank computer screen, thinking about what Ben said... "Are you really surprised that he's falling for a father figure?" Was that what Callum was looking for in other men? Or was I already becoming a father figure to him? And how would he take the results of the test, regardless of what they were?
CALLUM:
After my birthday party, mates from school often asked about my dad. A couple of girls even asked if he had any social media profiles they could follow. So on Monday, when he came to pick me up from school in an upscale taxi, a lot of my friends said "say hi to your dad, Callum."
I never really feared hospitals and doctors' offices like most people do. My mum was a nurse, so I felt at home in that kind of environment. But today for the first time I felt uneasy going to the clinic, and I wasn't even sick or anything. Going ahead with the paternity test was fucking with my mind. I trusted my mum, and if she was right then Josh was definitely my dad. But what... What is he isn't?? Will I lose him forever?
We were in and out of the private clinic in ten minutes. The results would be ready at the end of the week. And now we wait.
Dad offered to do something together right after but we were both tired and – at least in my case – emotionally drained. It was too late for lunch and too early for dinner, so we said our goodbyes instead. I was going to head to the Tube but Dad insisted on ordering me a taxi. So I found myself in the backseat of another expensive car when I got a text on my phone.
"Rough day. Hope yours is better," it said. It was a message from Dad for Cat.
"Sorry to hear that. What's wrong?" I typed.
"Nothing too bad, I'm just drained. I could use a distraction."
"How can I help?"
"I think you already know 😈😈"
For a few days now, my father was insinuating that he and Cat should exchange more photos. Of course, I knew that "more photos" was code for "sexy photos."
"I'm at work right now," I said from the back of the cab. "Give me a few hours 😉"
—
I always knew there was a lot of straight porn out there, but I never realized just HOW MUCH! When I got home I neglected all my homework, instead browsing for naked female bodies that looked like they might belong to Cat.
It was tougher that it seems. For her profile pics, I'd picked a fairly generic-looking blonde. There were definitely a lot of those online. But finding the right kind of body shots wasn't easy. First of all, they couldn't be professional photos, they had to be the kind of nudes a girl would take on her phone. She had to be hot, but not too hot. The body had to match the profile pics. She couldn't have any tattoos. Her nails and nipples had to be the same shape and size in every photo. I literally made a checklist of all of these points in my Notes app before starting my search. It felt like a project I was doing for school. Introduction to Sexting.
Later that evening, when I heard a ping on my phone I knew exactly who it was without even checking. This time, it wasn't a text from Dad. It was a photo.
He was wearing the same tiny red boxer briefs that Cat had helped him pick out. Only this time, he was taking a mirror selfie with the front of the underwear pulled down, held there by his thumb. His pubic hair was on full display, his abs flexed, and his bulge fuller than ever, probably half-hard.
I replied by sending a photo straight away as well: a girl showing most of her tits while still hiding her nipples with her fingers. I wanted to go slowly so I wouldn't run out of photos I'd saved.
"Nice, Kitty Cat 😈😈," my father texted. "Would you like to see what's in here?"
He sent another photo of his bulge, this time zoomed in. Even though I'd seen his cock just hours after meeting him, seeing it behind fabric actually made it sexier in a way, more tantalizing. The underwear that he purchased at that gay shop accentuated all of the right details, making me pop a boner looking at it.
"Yes," I typed in answer to his question, my fingers trembling even while typing those three letters.
Dad wasn't about to give it away easy either, it seemed. He sent another photo with the underwear on. This time his cock was so hard that it was almost bursting out. Was he taking these photos in real time? The thought of him getting hard at the same time as me made me start to drip precum. I rubbed it on my fingers and started to pull the foreskin down my rock-hard cock.
"Is that you hard?" Cat asked.
"Half."
FUCK! That bulge was him HALF hard?!
"Show me more."
He sent another photo, his underwear pulled halfway down the shaft of his dick. I stared at it, mesmerised by his cock and pubes, remembering seeing them in person at the urinal on my birthday. I felt the urge to bury my nose in that pubic hair of his.
I sent a few more photos of "Cat," all the while jerking off. After I sent him a butt pic, Dad also replied with a photo of his own muscular arse, his underwear now fully pulled down and lying on the floor. I imagined his cock getting harder off camera while he was sexting with me.
I never asked if he was jerking off at the same time, but I was fairly certain he was. We took our time in between sending photos, probably because we both had our hands full. As the pleasure from my cock spread all over me, I imagined the same kind of pleasure pulsing through my father's body. I wondered if our orgasms felt similar. If our cum tasted the same.
My phone chimed, and there it was: a dick pic from my dad, his cock in all of its erect glory! His cut dick, towering over his neatly trimmed pubes and smooth ball sack. He was even larger than I'd imagined it! I took it all in, from the tip of the dick with the precum glistening there, to the shaved balls that produced the sperm that made me.
"FUCK!" I shouted, lying on the bed in my room and shooting a load all over myself. I usually closed my eyes when I came but this time I held them open, looking at my father's latest pic without even blinking.
"Fuck, Dad," I said out loud as I reached my climax. When I was done, I collected the cum off my belly and brought it to my lips. I swallowed it, once again wondering if my father's cum tasted anything like it.