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CHAPTER 7

Sexy Video

Category:  FATHER-SON 

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JOSH:

    As my phone rang, I ran naked out the shower to answer it. Few people called without texting first so it was always a cause for alarm when it happened. "I should've known," I thought when I saw my dad's name flash on screen.

    "Hi, Dad."

    "Hey, Josh. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you jacking off, just wanted to check how you're doing."

    "Ha-ha," I said sarcastically. Ever since our exhibitionist video call, my father started every phone conversation by cracking a joke about it. Ironically though, I really WAS playing with my cock in the shower just now so I was a bit fluffed up, and tugged on my balls while talking to my dad.

    "Everything okay? Have you gotten the results from the test yet?"

    I sighed.

    "They're letting me know tomorrow, Dad."

    "On a Saturday?!"

    "It's a private clinic. They work weekends."

    Even though I looked at the paternity test as just a formality, as time went by I started to feel... nervous about it. My reaction caught me by surprise. Maybe it was the finality of it all, or maybe the fact that it felt like I'd taken some test that I was about to pass or fail.

    My father and I talked on the phone for a few minutes. As we started to say goodbye, I came out with a question that had been bothering me. I figured if I can't ask my dad, who can I ask?

    "Dad... What do I do if the test is negative?"

    "What do you mean, what do you do? You pack up and come back to San Francisco. Do you need a tutorial?"

    "No, Dad, you don't get it... This boy and I... We've bonded over the past few weeks." Even though I hadn't told my dad the story, I thought back to the time I caught Callum sucking a man's cock at my party and how concerned for his well-being I felt in that moment. "He's... He's never had a father and we've gotten close, and now if it turns out I'm not his dad, what, I just turn my back to him and walk away?"

    "Joshua, this is exactly why I told you to take the test as early as possible. See, this is precisely what I feared! Now here you are, in love with a boy who may not even be yours."

    His close-mindedness frustrated me.

    "So what you're saying is if Mom came out today and said you're not my biological father you'd cut me off?"

    "Don't be ridiculous! It ain't the same. I've raised you for nigh on forty years."

    I was going to retort, when someone knocked on my door.

    "Dad, I gotta go," I said.

    "Okay. Have fun jerking off. I'll talk to you later."

    With water from the shower still dripping down my body, I was going to go get a towel to wrap around my waist. But since I was standing by the front door anyway, I took a peek to see who it was. To my surprise, it was Paul. My neighbor whose cock Callum sucked.

    Looking down at my own dick, I did something impulsive and opened the door. I'd seen Paul's cock and knew it was big... but mine was bigger. And in this fluffed up state, it looked intimidatingly large. It was some sort of primal method of intimidation I thought might give me the upper hand.

    "Hey," I answered the door nonchalantly. Paul was definitely surprised to see me this way, but he did his best not to react.

    "Hi. Listen mate, if you got a minute, I was wondering if we could have a chat."

    "Sure, c'mon in," I said, letting him in and closing the door behind him, my balls swinging between my legs as I moved. "I'm just gonna go turn off the shower. You take a seat."

    I walked to the bathroom, where the shower had been running this whole time. I turned it off and grabbed a towel, but instead of wrapping it around my waist I used it to dry my hair and walked back to the living room that way. 

    "Can I get you something to drink?" I offered to my neighbor while running the towel through my hair in front of him, my nuts still swinging between my legs as he tried not to stare.

    "I'll take a beer."

    "How 'bout some scotch?" 

    He chuckled, and I took that as a yes so I poured us two glasses of whiskey. Still making no attempt to cover up, I went and sat down on the couch opposite Paul, spreading my legs even wider than I normally would.

    "Cheers," I handed him his glass and raised my own.

    "Cheers, mate."

    "So what did you wanna talk about?" I said after taking a sip (which I'd made sure was longer than the sip Paul took).

    "Your son," he said matter-of-factly.

    We looked at each other in the eyes without blinking as if it were a contest. Finally, I lifted my glass to take another sip.

    "Go on."

    "I've been meaning to talk to you since the party. Seems like the decent thing to do. When I met Callum that night, I didn't know he was your son."

    "What, you thought he was a 16-year-old friend of mine?"

    "I didn't know he was that young. And remember mate, you and I only talked for two minutes when you invited me. I just fought you was some Yank who just moved here by 'imself. 'Ow was I to know you 'ad a British son an' ev'ryfing?"

    I could tell he was getting heated because his accent was getting stronger. For some reason, it put a smirk on my face.

    I kept quiet and let Paul continue, while I spread my legs even further and drank my scotch.

    "Anyway. When you walked in on us the boy was like 'oh shit, that's me dad.' So I started to freak out, but luckily you didn't come back with a knife. And for what it's worth, HE was making eyes at me first."

    "He was making eyes at you at my party?" I said slowly, placing both my arms on the backrest of the couch, exposing my hairy pits which still felt wet.

    "Nah, down in the street a couple weeks back. I went down for a fag and caught him staring at me cock."

    "Careful, buddy," I said, maintaining eye contact with Paul. "I can still go for that knife."

    He chuckled at my threat, and took a sip of his drink. He remained silent, waiting on me to respond. I finished my drink in one final gulp and said,

    "I spoke to Callum that night and he assured me he was alright. That's all that matters to me. So whatever happens between you two has nothing to do with me."

    "Grand," Paul smiled and slapped his knees. He finished his drink and got up to leave, and I followed him to the door. "And just so you know," he continued while I held the door open for him, "nothing's happened between him and me since. It's not like I have his number or anything."

    "He was just good for a quickie blowjob?" I said with some venom in my voice.

    "Now hold on, I didn't say that," Paul raised a finger. "But you are right in one thing. He WAS good."

    He walked away and up the stairs, leaving my standing in the doorway. I looked down at my cock and realized it hadn't gotten softer this whole time. On the contrary, it was almost hard now.

 

CALLUM:

    I'd lost count of how many times I'd cum while looking at the photos that my father sent to Cat. It was cyclical: every morning in bed, every lunch break at school, every evening before sleep... 

    I met up with Dad a few times, on the weekends and after school. It was so much fun getting to know him as two people; Callum and Cat. If only I could do this with every person I knew! You get so much more insight into a person's life. And after being absent for 16 years, I wanted to learn as much about my dad as possible. 

    Sure, there were some feelings of guilt, but I managed to suppress them. The worst feeling was the occasional panic that I might get caught, but I paid meticulous attention to every text and photo I sent. By now, I had a folder in my computer with Cat's family tree of every relative she's ever mentioned, her friends, her exes. When she told my dad she's had sex with a professor at uni, I went as far as to look up a list of professors at that university to make sure he was a real person.

    By making Cat a sexually adventurous person, I got even more stories out of my dad. And boy, did he have a lot of stories! Sex with his science teacher when he was still in high school. Fucking a married woman in an airplane bathroom and watching her sit back down next to her husband and kids. Getting his cock sucked on the freeway while driving down the coast. Fucking a teenager in her parents' bed while they were in church. And yet I knew, this was just the tip of the iceberg with him.

    Dad came from a wealthy family, that much was clear to me now. I imagine he never heard "no" growing up so he just took whatever he wanted. He moved to Europe when he was not much older than me now and galavanted around the continent. He spoke of going to parties with supermodels and taking drugs I've never even heard of. That was precisely the type of thing a parent would never share with their child, but I liked knowing that about him.

    He wanted to meet Cat in person, but a simple "my mum is sick right now and I need to look after her most evenings" was enough for him to back off. He still said he wanted to meet (as did Cat) but he wasn't too pushy. Instead, he surprised me with a video one evening.

    "I've been looking at your photos and this is what you did to me," said the message under the video. My hand started to shake as soon as I saw the still of naked skin, and I almost dropped my phone. I was at the cinema with a few mates, literally walking into the auditorium and looking for our seats. I stared at the video thumbnail with the play button over it, and I just KNEW what it was.

    "You alright, Callum?" my friend asked. I'd stopped walking. With my hand shaking, I was spilling popcorn all over the floor.

    "Y–Yes," I said and put my phone away. I went to sit down next to my mates just as the previews started. Flashing images and loud noises that would normally cause a sensory overload now didn't affect me in the slightest. It was like I wasn't in the room. It was like I wasn't anywhere. Like I'd taken some of the party drugs my father mentioned, and I was just floating in my own little world. In my pocket, I had my phone with a sexy video from him. It was three and a half minutes long, that much I'd noticed. What do I do? Do I go to the bathroom and watch it now? No, I knew I had to watch it at home, in my room. It was too special to waste on a cinema bathroom.

    So do I leave, head home as soon as possible? With my body shaking, I couldn't even imagine standing up right now, much less walking out in the street and taking two Tube lines to get home. No, I'd stay until the end of the film. I'll be calmer by then. I'll be alright.

    Now that I'd made that decision, I felt chained to my seat for the duration of the movie, as if someone else was forcing it upon me. In fact, it was my own stubbornness binding me here. That, and a desire to prolong the moment until I got my reward. It almost felt like I was edging, even though I wasn't touching myself. To make matters worse, the film was over two hours long. At the end of every scene, I caught myself thinking "c'mon, c'mon, wrap it up," so much so that I almost yelled out at the screen when a new scene started, extending the plot instead of putting an end to it.

    After the film, I rushed to the men's room along with most of the men from the auditorium. The urinals here had dividers between them, but I still managed to catch a glimpse of the man's cock on my left. When I noticed he was cut, I looked up at him and based on his outfit (a sweatshirt with some baseball team I've never heard of) I realized he was probably an American tourist. Even though my bladder was about to burst, I couldn't let out a single drop of piss. I was too nervous and horny. My cock quickly started growing at the urinal as soon as I let it out. Images of the urinal at my grandparents' restaurant on my birthday flashed through my mind again. The American man next to me noticed my boner, and he and I made eye contact. Feeling nervous to the point that I was almost sick, I put my cock away and rushed out of the bathroom.

    Outside, my mates were making plans to go someplace to eat, but I said I had to go home. They were surprised, but we said our goodbyes in front of the cinema and they let me head to the Tube on my own.

    I didn't come to Leicester Square too frequently but when I did, I felt some sort of weird satisfaction by elbowing tourists out of the way and making my way through the crowd. I didn't often feel stronger or smarter than people around me, and this was one of those rare moments. While everyone looked at their phones (or god forbid, paper maps), confused and overwhelmed by all the lights, I knew exactly where I was going. And tonight more than ever, I felt an urgency to get there quickly.

    I pushed my way to Leicester Square Station, past the man trying to hand me a free newspaper at the entry. I rushed down the escalator, aggressively pushing people who dared stand on the left. It was a Friday night, which made everything worse. Since this station was close to all the gay bars, there were quite a few gay men that I would normally ogle at. Not tonight. 

    The good thing about rush hour was that there were trains basically every minute. I got on the Northern Line and tried to meditate on the train to calm down. Thankfully, since I was moving away from the city centre, the train wasn't filled by party-goers but instead mostly people going home from work.

    I got off at Waterloo Station and ran to the Jubilee Line. My bladder was killing me! I'd never learned which of these stations had bathrooms in them. "Southwark, London Bridge, Bermondsey, Canada Water," I muttered the names of the stops repeatedly under my breath after I got on the second train. When I was little, I had mild OCD which manifested itself in various tics. In moments like this, it started to come back to me.

    When I finally got off the train, I ran home and straight into the bathroom.

    "Callum? You alright? Have you been drinking?" Mum yelled after me.

    "I'm okay!" I shouted, finally letting go and pissing for over a minute.

    When I was done, I retreated to my room and shut the door. I took my phone out my pocket and looked at it. I turned off the light and switched on the lamp on my nightstand. I wanted it to feel... romantic? I felt like I had a date, just not with a person, but... a video? It was weird, but I felt the same kind of excited anxiety in my stomach that I would on a date.

    "Here we go," I muttered. I opened the dating app and stared at the video thumbnail some more. I couldn't see much, just what looked like a hairy leg. At long last, I hit play.

    "Hey, Kitty Cat," my father's voice said, sounding more sultry than I'd ever heard or imagined it. Quickly, I hit pause. This was too good to be true!! Fuck, I wanted this moment to last forever! Just like that, in a second my cock was rock hard. I pulled it out carefully, one wrong move and I might already cum. I reached for my birthday present from Dad this year: an expensive pair of headphones. I put them on, rewound the video to the beginning, and pressed play again. 

    "Hey, Kitty Cat," my father's voice said seductively straight in my ear this time. The audio quality was exquisite, somehow even better than in person. On screen, my father was lying in bed shirtless, looking into the camera with those smoldering eyes of his, flashing that gorgeous smile. "I've been thinking about you tonight. I just took a shower earlier, so I'm lounging around."

    He flipped the camera and I almost had a heart attack. My cock throbbed in my lap so strongly that it was almost painful. On screen now, I could see that my father was fully naked. He recorded his body lying in bed, covering his junk with his free hand.

    "I don't need to be modest around you, do I?" he said. "No, you don't," I whispered and felt the butterflies in my stomach go crazy as he lifted his hand and exposed his cock. FUCK! My heart beat so loudly, I was worried my mum might hear it from the other room.

    "This thing just won't go down," Dad continued, stroking his cock now. He was probably half-hard and only getting harder by the second. "I keep getting interrupted. First a call from my dad. Then a neighbor dropped by. Now than I'm alone I figured I'd send you a little treat."

    If only he knew how big of a treat he was sending! I wrapped one hand around my boner but I didn't dare move it. The video was only halfway through and I was already on edge.

    "Mmm," my father moaned, getting bigger as he jerked off. I tried to take in every detail. The way his toes curled. The way he tugged on his balls in between strokes. The way he caressed the inside of his hairy thigh. Soon, his dick was fully hard, and I realized that I hadn't been breathing.

    "Mmmmm, Kitty Cat, how I wish you were here taking care of this," he moaned, his body writhing in pleasure. I saw the precum dripping from his piss slit, and it made me lick my lips. Suddenly, I realized he could easily find some other girl to come to his flat and "take care of it" for him. Instead, he was doing this just for me.

    "Ahhhh," he moaned, making sounds I never thought I'd hear him make. I set the volume as high as it would go and I could hear his accelerated breathing right in my ear.

    "Oh, baby," he continued, using his precum as lube all over his shaft now. His circumcised mushroom head glistened, growing enlarged and more sensitive. And then, just when I thought this couldn't get any better...

    "Daddy needs to feel good," he said, a mixture of a moan and a grunt. "Fuck. Daddy needs you here to do this for him. Be a good girl. Take care of Daddy and he'll take care of you, Mmm, I got a prize for you right here, building up."

    I couldn't help but check the countdown: 40 seconds left. I didn't want this to end, but I also knew that what was coming up would be better than anything else.

    "Mmm, yes baby, take care of Daddy, won't ya? Ahhhh. Mm, yes! Oh fuck. Fuck, yes. Mmmm, FUCK YES!!"

    And just like that, Dad's cock erupted like a fucking geyser! An insane amount of cum like I'd never seen before, shooting up toward the ceiling and landing down on his toned body, getting in the ridges between his abs and running through them like gutters. I wanted to yell out at the top of my lungs but I bit my lower lip instead, and shot my own load all over the carpet in my room; my heart pumping, my mind racing, my ears full of my father's climactic moans. 

    "Ah, ah, ah," we both moaned at the same time, like father like son. Slowly, we both started to calm down. Finally, my dad's finger scooped up some of the cum that was on his belly, and the phone camera flipped again.

    "Have I told you I love the taste of my own cum?" he said into the camera and put his finger in his mouth. Next, something I didn't think possible happened: I started to cum AGAIN. A second orgasm, even stronger than the first, and more cum landing on my carpet. Fuck! I'd never had a double orgasm before, and I knew I'd remember this night forever.

    The next morning, I woke up and in reaching for my phone I noticed the stain on the carpet next to my bed. I'd tried to clean it up the best I could, but it was okay. Even if I got in trouble for it, it was a souvenir of one of the best nights of my life. 

    It was later than usual, and I realised I had a message from Dad. What day is it? Fuck, Saturday!

    "The test results are in," the text read. "We need to talk."

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