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Inopportune Boner

Category:  FATHER-SON 


    When I was little, my mom and dad and I would take a trip to a different country every summer. All of those countries were in Europe, so it was fairly easy to get there from where we lived, close to Amsterdam. And then, the summer after I turned 10, our biggest trip yet: Orlando, Florida! Obviously, going to Disney World was mind-blowing for 10-year-old me, and Florida came with its own share of marvels, so different from anything I'd seen in Europe.

    I was having so much fun during that trip, that I completely failed to notice my parents were more reticent than normal for them. They knew something I didn't: that would be our last trip as a threesome. A few months later, my mom passed away from cancer, a disease she'd been battling for a while without notifying me. 

    It was a tough couple of years, but Dad and I coped as well as could be expected. I turned to my friends, who along with their families were all super supportive. Dad focused more on work, which he needed to do as the sole breadwinner now; but I suspect it also had a therapeutic effect on him, granting him an opportunity to lose himself in the world of software development and disconnect from reality.

    As such, I was mostly "on my own" as I started to go through puberty. I of course had my friends, and we got up to the usual kind of trouble adolescents are prone to get into. We were very independent, and even allowed to go on the bus or train to Amsterdam without parental supervision (something that wasn't unusual for us). We were a mixture of boys and girls, and when I told everyone that I was gay, no one batted an eye, and all of the teasing I got was good-natured. 

    The family vacations seemed to end with my mom's death. Now, with the exception of short trips to neighboring Germany and Belgium with friends' families, I hadn't left the country since the summer my parents and I went to Orlando. I missed traveling, but now that I was 16 I knew it was only a matter of time before I could start doing it on my own, and it was a premise I was very much looking forward to.

    A more pressing problem I now had involved my friend group. We'd all been open to stuff like booze or weed as soon as we entered adolescence; it wasn't a big deal and most of the adults around us knew or at least suspected it. They'd turn a blind eye to it or even join in for a quick joint, if they were the "cool parent" kinda folks. However, over the past year or so, some of my friends had begun to take their experimentation to new extremes. Scoring acid or ecstasy was as easy as finding candy in Amsterdam, if you knew where to go. I tried it a couple of times, didn't love it, and I moved on. But, it was when people began to smoke or inject more serious stuff that I felt like I was losing my core group of friends, including some of my best buddies.

    My father must've noticed a change in me as well. For the past six years since Mom's death, he had been mostly a hands-off kinda parent. That is why it was so unusual to hear him say "Son, sit down. We need to talk," one Saturday morning.

    "What's wrong?" I asked, taking a seat across from Dad in the kitchen at our house. Summer had begun, so we were both just in our underwear; boxers in Dad's case and boxer briefs on me.

    "I was hoping you'd tell me. Is everything okay?" he asked perceptively.

    "Why wouldn't everything be okay?" I bid for time, somewhat hesitant to open up just yet.

    "Well, yesterday was the last day of school for the year and you just came home and stayed in all evening. No partying with friends? That's unlike you," he noted.

    "Yeah, I wasn't up to it," I mumbled.

    "Your grades are looking good, so I know it's not that. Bram, are you having… boyfriend troubles?" 

    Up until now, my father had never explicitly mentioned my sexuality, simply because there was no reason to. It wasn't something I tried to hide from him, and anyone with a halfway decent gaydar could probably clock me from a mile away.

    "No, Dad, it's not that," I chuckled. 

    "You're 16 now, and we've never had any sort of sex talk or anything. I just figured you'd pick it up from friends, or the internet. But if there's ever anything you wanna talk about… I'm here."

    "Dad, like I told you, it's not that. Besides, what do you know about sex with boys anyway?" I laughed.

    "I might know more than you think," he replied coolly.

    "Wait…" I said, completely taken aback. "You mean… you've, like… done stuff with guys, or…?"

    "'Done stuff' seems like a wide net to cast, but yes," he nodded, now with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Not a lot of people know this about me, but I'm bisexual."

    This wouldn't have been the slightest bit shocking coming from anyone else in my life. It was 2022, and people were coming out left and right. BUT DAD?! I just… had this image in my head, of who he was as a person, and it seemed to change all of a sudden.

    "Why didn't you ever tell me?" I asked.

    "I suspect for the same reason you never specifically told me you were gay. It just didn't come up in conversation."

    "Yeah, but with me you've probably known for years," I said.

    "Something like that," Dad nodded with a wider smile, making me wonder if he could tell I was gay even before I knew.

    "With you… I couldn't have guessed," I said, pointing up and down with my hand at Dad's shirtless body. He just looked like… a dad. At 6'2", he was considered tall whenever we traveled, but that was only slightly above average here. He had a gym membership and took advantage of it occasionally, but he wasn't a gym god by any stretch. 

    "Like I said, Son, I never saw a reason to bring it up. Especially cuz… I've only had sex with a handful of people since your mother, and there was never any reason for you to meet any of them."

    My father having sex with other "people" (let alone, men!) was another thing that had never crossed my mind all these years. I mean, it wasn't anything unusual, just not something I thought about. All of a sudden, I couldn't get the image of him and another man out of my head.

    "Okay, so if it's not boys, then what's bothering you?" my father continued. 

    "Ummm," I stalled, feeling grateful that the kitchen table was wood instead of glass, so my father couldn't see the huge boner I was popping in my boxer briefs. The mental images of my dad with other men somehow pushed a button in me, and as confusing as it was for now, it was clearly an instantaneous turn-on. 

    For many years, Dad and I had been kinda distant, yet that all just seemed to shatter in a matter of minutes. I almost felt like I was talking to a whole different person, and I found it much easier to confide in him. I told him about my issues with my friends, leading to a long conversation, which concluded with my father standing up and offering to give me a hug.

    "Mm, kay," I agreed, slightly embarrassed to still be sporting a semi. Luckily, most of my erection had subsided by now, but I felt it quickly coming back as my cock rubbed against Dad's while we hugged. "I gotta go now!" I said, quickly turning my back to him and heading toward my room.

    "Bram! One last thing. What do you say you and I take a trip together this summer? Maybe somewhere abroad?" Dad asked.

    I turned my head around, and the first thing that caught my eye was my father's bulge. I might be mistaken… but I could swear it also looked bigger and fuller than it did a few seconds ago. 

    "I'd love that, Dad," I smiled, rushing off to my room to take care of my erection by beating off to some porn. Subconsciously or not, I selected a video featuring a guy who looked kinda like my dad, and I shot a huge load while watching him fuck his partner.

    Just a couple of weeks later, Dad surprised me by announcing our trip was all set up. Apparently he got an unbeatable last-minute deal on a flight to London, which worked out great since I'd never been to England. Traveling with Dad again brought me back to my childhood, waking up warm, nostalgic feelings in me. He held my hand as the plane took off and landed, just like he did when I was a little boy and scared of the turbulence. This time, the skin-on-skin contact and the vibration of the plane led to my cock getting hard yet again, and I had to resort to hiding it with my backpack so my father wouldn't notice and realize his son was a horny perv.

    We arrived in London about noon, and spent the day walking around the overwhelmingly large city. I mean, Amsterdam was big, but London felt HUGE! And so much busier! I didn't know where to look, and as we walked through the tourist-laden areas, Dad and I had to hold hands many times so we wouldn't lose each other. I was wearing tight jeans and I prayed that they would conceal my erections, which happened multiple times throughout the day, always while holding my father's strong hand.

    As soon as we arrived at the hotel that evening, I locked myself in the bathroom. After a long shower, I sat on the closed toilet and asked myself: What the hell is wrong with me?! I mean, I'd been getting erections for years now, some of them more inopportune than others. But I'd never had THIS happen – multiple boners in the middle of the street while I was just out walking. I wondered… could this have anything to do with Dad? And if so: How the hell was I supposed to share a bed with him tonight?!
   "Bram, you done in the shower? I wanna take one as well!" Dad knocked loudly on the bathroom door.

    "Yeah, I'll be out in a second!" I yelled. Just the sound of Dad's voice made my dick stir, and I made sure to wrap the towel tightly around my waist. I opened the door… and immediately lost my breath.

    "Phew, I could use a shower," my father said… standing in front of me fully naked.

    All of a sudden, my legs felt like putty. My knees were shaking so hard, it was a good thing I was holding on to the door so I wouldn't fall down. I'd seen both of my parents naked in the past, it was never a particularly big deal (I knew people in some other countries were much more prudish about stuff like that). But this was my first time witnessing my father's nudity in a long time, and it was certainly the first time since he'd come out to me. Now, as wrong as it was, my eyes darted straight to his dick, staring it down like it was the first penis I ever saw.

    Before ever growing any pubes, I remember looking at Dad's pubic bush and looking forward to the day I grow my own. Now, it's like the roles had switched: I had pubic hair, but my father seemed to shave his off completely. It made his uncircumcised dick look even bigger, and I felt myself getting harder and harder under the towel.

    "Bathroom's all yours," I said, quickly rushing out before my dad could notice my arousal. While he was in the shower, I beat off not once but TWICE. I was determined to get out as much "energy" as I could, so I could hopefully sleep through the night without my dick stirring me away.

    Just as I was wiping off my second cumshot, Dad came out of the bathroom, so I swiftly pulled the bed cover over my naked body. 

    "I see you're all ready for bed," Dad said casually, pulling his side of the cover open, and unintentionally baring my left leg and hip, just enough to reveal that I wasn't anything. "Oh. I see you like to sleep naked too," my father continued, toweling himself dry while his smooth cock and balls dangled left-to-right between his hairy legs. Since coming out of the bathroom, he never bothered to cover up.

    "Uhhh, yeah," I lied. I always slept in my underwear or shorts at home, but I couldn't tell Dad that I was lying in bed naked because I'd been jerking off up until a few seconds ago and still had cum on my belly.

    "Cool. So you don't mind if I do the same," Dad responded, throwing the towel on the floor and getting in bed beside me, naked.

    My heart felt like it was literally about to jump out of my chest. I was hyperventilating. My cock was still hard as a rock, and I kept it firmly clutched in my right fist.

    "I'm ready to go to sleep soon, that alright with you?" Dad asked me nonchalantly, seemingly completely unfazed by us lying next to each other naked.

    "Y– Yeah. I'm gonna turn in too," I said, even though I couldn't imagine sleeping at a time like this.

    "Alright then. See you in the morning," Dad leaned in for a quick kiss, which was probably meant for my cheek but ended up grazing one side of my lips. Unaffected by it, my father just lay on his back and closed his eyes, softly snoring within a matter of minutes.

    "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," I whispered to myself while still stroking my dick. Two back-to-back cumshots were clearly not enough to cause it to go soft. I'd have to jerk off a THIRD time! I began to wonder if I should go to the bathroom and have a wank there. But that would mean leaving my dad alone in bed… My naked dad, lying right next to me… So close, I could feel his body heat. I wondered what kinda guys Dad was into. Did he go for men his age, or did he like them younger? He was only 44, so he still had plenty of options. As I stroked my cock faster, I thought about all the guys who would be happy to get a taste of my dad's dick. Yet, he'd said he'd only been with a "handful" in the past six years… Did that mean that he liked to jerk off? Surely he must get some release somehow. How often did he do it; did he beat his meat daily, just like me? With his dick so long when it was soft, I could only imagine what it looked like when it was hard…

    "FUUCKKKK!" I bit my lip and held back from moaning out too loud. With my father's hard cock on my mind, I blew yet another load, my whole body shaking underneath the cover. Thankfully, with this being my third cumshot in less than half an hour, there wasn't too much sperm shooting out and making a mess all over the sheets. Still, it made for a toe-curling orgasm, after which my heartbeat finally began to return to normal.

    "Ahem," my father cleared his throat in his sleep, before turning to the other side and continuing to doze off. 

    With semen sticking to my lower belly, I fell asleep with my cock in my hand.

    After a few days in London, Dad announced we would be spending the weekend by the beach. He and I got on the train and headed to a place named Brighton, which I'd previously never heard of. Although the train ride was only an hour, the weather in Brighton was much sunnier, with temperatures several degrees higher.

    "I didn't pack any swim shorts," I said when we arrived at our new hotel room. 

    "That's okay, you can borrow some of mine," Dad said, throwing a pair of yellow speedos my way.

    "Dad, I can't wear these," I protested.

    "Wear sweatpants then! When did you get so prude?" he asked, already slipping into a similar, red pair of speedos.

    Turning away so Dad wouldn't see that I was once again sporting a semi, I put on his speedos, which were just a bit loose on me. When we got to the beach, I was glad to see we weren't the only men wearing "immodest" swimwear. With so many European tourists (and apparently, quite a few gay guys) the beach crowd seemed evenly split between speedo- and board-short-wearers. 

    "Dad… Is this town like, gay or something?" I asked as we lay down by the sea.

    "It's popular with gay tourists, if that's what you mean," he said coolly, and then added with a wink, "Thought you might like it."

    I looked around the crowd, but my eyes quickly landed on a group of four men lying just a couple of meters from us. Three of them sounded American, and only the youngest – an Asian kid who seemed to be my age – had a British accent. They caught my eyes because each of them wore speedos so tight and so tiny, that they made Dad's and my swimwear look conservative in comparison.

    I gawked in awe, able to make out the outlines of all four men's dicks. Before too long, the teenager of the group must have caught me staring, because he looked right at me and said, "Hey! How's it going?"

    "Um– Okay, you?" I replied, wondering if he was calling me out for my staring or if he was being friendly.

    "I'm Callum," he said with a smile (definitely friendly). "And this is Sam," he added, patting the second-youngest member of the group on the back. "These two geezers are our dads, Josh and Ben."

    If I wasn't mistaken, "geezer" meant an old man, so Callum was clearly being sarcastic, since both fathers looked about 40 and were in excellent shape.

    "I'm Bram," I said, doing my best to sound less nervous than I felt.

    "Hello, fellas. I'm Johan," my dad introduced himself.

    "You guys here on a father-son vacation as well?" Callum's dad Josh asked us.

    "Yes," my father said, already moving a bit closer to our new friends. 

    Little did I know that before the summer was over, Dad and I would be crossing every conceivable line, all thanks to our new beach buddies…

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