Be Careful What You Wish For
This story was available to Supporters in October 2021
Two months into my senior year, and I was going harder than ever. Everyone at school thought that I was crazy – I was pretty much guaranteed entry into whatever university I picked – but they didn't understand the pressure I was under to maintain my impeccable GPA. I sure as hell wasn't about to let things slip through my hands at the very last moment.
In my first year of high school I started BlkSTEM, a club to motivate and help fellow black students get into STEM. It was originally an excuse for a couple of friends and I to hang out and exchange experiences, but it grew to be much more than that. A good amount of people joined and I had a lot of fun planning our activities. We received plenty of local attention, and even made the national news. I knew it all looked amazing on a college application. That, in conjecture with my flawless school records and the fact I came from a single-parent household pretty much guaranteed me a full-ride scholarship.
As much as my friends told me to "ease up" and "chill out," no one did it more than my dad. It was getting really annoying, frankly. Dad never went to college and he had no idea how competitive the whole process was these days. He worked as a mechanic and his only hobby seemed to be smoking weed. I loved him and I would never say this out loud, but… a big part of why I was doing all of this was because I didn't want to end up like him.
As different as Dad and I were, we had one thing in common, even though he didn't know it yet: we were both into guys. Dad had a boyfriend named Marcus who worked as a travel blogger. (I think the biggest surprise there is that people still read blogs.) I wasn't out to my father yet, but I was bi. It wasn't something I was necessarily ashamed of, I just didn't think it was anyone else's business so I kept it on a need-to-know basis.
Whenever Dad's boyfriend came back from a trip he always brought us little gifts, usually trinkets that he got at some bazaar. As if we needed even more clutter at our house, with Dad hoarding everything. Today's visit from Marcus was after a trip of his to India. And today's presents were two… rocks?
"They're magical wishing stones," he said, and I had no doubt he actually believed it. "You hold them in your hands and make a wish, and it will come true within two days."
Yes, my father was dating an adult man who believed in magical stones. I couldn't get out of this house fast enough.
"Aha. Cool. I'm gonna go, I have some homework to do," I said, leaving the rock at the table and getting up to go to my room.
"It's Friday, you have all weekend to do homework. Come and have dinner with us," my dad said.
"You're just getting takeout, I can have it in my room," I insisted. "I wanna get my work done early."
I went upstairs, leaving my dad and Marcus to light up a joint and smoke while I studied in my room. A couple of hours later, I went downstairs to get my portion of the Chinese takeout and I found Dad and Marcus just where I left them: on the couch smoking, except now they'd taken their shirts off. I rolled my eyes and went back upstairs to eat and do more work. I'd actually gotten a couple of college textbooks and I was going through them, getting an early start. Before I knew it, it was close to midnight and my father entered my room.
"You still up? You should get some sleep," he said.
"Dad! Can you knock?!" I asked him for the thousandth time. "I'm fine, I'll go to bed soon. You don't need to remind me, I'm not a kid. And put some clothes on around the house, please!"
My father stood in my doorway in nothing but a pair of boxers that were so worn they were practically see-through. I did NOT need to see that.
"You know, you could really learn to be more respectful to Marcus. You didn't even say thank you for your gift," Dad said, walking into my room and slamming the "wishing stone" on my nightstand.
"Dad… it's a rock," I replied. It was nice and green and smooth and everything, but it hardly counted as a legitimate present that I should go crazy over. It was late and I REALLY didn't feel like arguing about this now (or ever).
"I don't care if it's a goddamn rock, you say thank you!!!" my father suddenly bellowed, which was uncharacteristic of him. I thought weed was supposed to mellow you out? That was it; I snapped.
"You know, you got some nerve coming in here talking to me about some fucking rocks, man. Ever since I started school you haven't lifted a finger to help me out. Do you know what other kids' parents do to help them get into college?! I'm up against all that, all on my own, and you've hardly even said 'well done.' Now you wanna burst in here criticizing me and talking about your hippie-ass boyfriend and his stupid gifts?! Gimme a fucking break, man."
My father has never hit me in my life, ever. I could swear this was going to be the first time. However, he pulled himself together and with both anger and disappointment in his eyes, he turned his back to me.
"I'm going to bed," he said quietly.
"Say good night to Marcus," I added.
"He's not here, he left," my father replied before leaving my room.
"Well I'm sure you can hold your rock and wish him back," I shouted sarcastically after him. High on adrenaline, I went to brush my teeth and did my best to calm down before getting into bed. When plugging in my phone, I noticed the wishing stone on my nightstand.
I didn't believe in magic one bit. But I also didn't believe in God, yet sometimes before a big test I prayed that I would do well. In my room, in the dark, I could get away with whatever. I took the stone in my hands and with exasperation in my voice I quietly said,
"I wish Dad would understand what I'm going through."
I came back from work on Friday with my back aching even more than usual. I reached for the emergency pain killers I had in my bathroom but at the last second I changed my mind and decided to have a bit of weed instead. Those pills were a fickle friend and I was doing my best to avoid them, especially since I knew my pain wasn't going away anytime soon.
When Marcus came by the house my son was still out, so Marcus and I took advantage of the situation and fucked in the living room. I sucked his dick and swallowed his nut, and then I let him return the favor and give me head for a while before driving my dick up his fat ass. Even with my backache, I could make my boyfriend moan like a motherfucker, which was quite good for my ego. Marcus swore I had the biggest dick he's ever been fucked by so I gave it to him deep every time, dropping my babies off deep in his guts.
After our fuck, we got dressed and were joined by Dustin just minutes later. Marcus gave us our presents from India and as per usual, my son immediately retreated to his room, spending as little time with us as possible.
I invited Marcus to spend the night, but he preferred to go back to his place instead. I think he could sense how tense I was, both because of the pain I was in as well as the fact that my son was acting like a dick; so he preferred to leave Dustin and me alone to deal with it. After Marcus left, I went to my son's room and managed to get in a fight with him, even though that was the last thing I wanted. I went to bed disappointed in both myself and Dustin. As I put my clothes in the hamper, I realized I had Marcus's wishing stone in my pocket. I took it out and made a wish before bed.
"I wish Dustin and I would find a way to talk to each other."
In the morning, I woke up feeling… better than ever! "Holy shit, is this real?" I thought as I stretched in bed. It was actually scary how good I felt; better than I could remember feeling in years, no, decades!
I looked around and realized something even weirder: I was in… Dustin's bed? Yes, this was Dustin's room. But how did I end up here? Granted I smoked a lot of weed, but I didn't ever get high enough to stroll into my son's bed overnight. And where the hell was my son?
I got up, feeling lighter on my feet than ever. I thought I wouldn't be able to see much without my glasses but my vision was crystal clear. "What the fuck?" I thought and I reached up to scratch my goatee, only to touch a smooth-shaven chin.
I rushed to my room, aiming to get my phone and call Dustin. I burst into the bedroom and realized there was someone in my bed. It… It… It was me! For the first time, I saw my body from an outside perspective in real life. It was lying in bed in my favorite boxers, snoring loudly.
I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror to see Dustin's face looking back at me. "Whoa!" I said loudly and heard my son's voice come out of my mouth. I touched my face while staring in the mirror. Sure enough, I could feel each touch. I pinched myself to check if I was dreaming. I splashed some water on my face. I looked in the mirror again and I… I was still Dustin.
"I'm in my son's body," I said out loud, a phrase I never expected to utter. Once again, it was Dustin's voice that came out. I stood by the sink breathing deeply until I realized I needed to take a major piss.
"Oh, hell nah. I'm gonna have to touch my own son's dick to piss!" I thought. This was too fucking weird!
I was never too prudish when it came to nudity, but my son was much more uptight; you'd think he was raised by someone else. I hardly ever saw him shirtless, much less in his underwear, and I hadn't seen him naked since he was old enough to get dressed by himself.
As much as I wanted to avoid taking a piss, holding it in wasn't an option for much longer. It was either use the toilet or go in the underwear I had on: a pair of tight boxer briefs that I'd never seen before that belonged to Dustin.
Reluctantly, I stood in front of the toilet and closed my eyes, taking out Dustin's dick and hearing the piss stream hit the water. I held the dick shaft with my right hand and ran my left hand over the nut sack, feeling how smooth it was. My son shaved his balls, and it made the skin on the sack feel even more sensitive. Feeling curious, I slid my fingers up to the patch of pubic hair over Dustin's penis, feeling how neatly trimmed it was. By now I was almost done with my piss, and my curiosity was getting the best of me. I opened my eyes and looked down to see my son's dick for the first time since he'd matured. It was nice and hefty; definitely impressive for a teenager. I shook off the last few drops of piss, and I continued to run my fingers through my son's young dick and balls, feeling his tool start to rise at a speed only a teen his age could achieve. The feeling was… so bizarre and so good at the same time. Yes, erections feel good at every age, but it felt so empowering to be in a young man's body again, to have a young man's unit hanging between my legs. I learned that as different as we were, my son inherited one thing from me after all: my impressive dick size. Within seconds, I was jacking off, getting lost in the sensation. It wasn't until I started dripping precum into the toilet that I realized how fucking inappropriate this was. I had to get Dustin! We had to figure this out!
I walked out of the bathroom and waited a few minutes for my boner to go down, planning how I would wake up my son and what I would say. I used the time to make some coffee, thinking it would help. Finally, I returned to my bedroom to see my own body lying in bed. Just then, I noticed it also had a raging boner, pointing up through the piss slit of my favorite boxers. I was looking at the underside of my own hard dick in a way I've never been able to before.
"Wake up. Wake up," I shook the sleeping body with urgency.
"Mmm, what?" I heard my own voice reply.
"Wake up. Are you Dustin?" I asked.
"Of course I'm Dustin," my own body replied, clearing his throat and adding, "What the hell? Why does my voice sound this way?"
Dustin was still half asleep and I could see him beginning to register the strangeness of the situation. He realized he was lying in my bed. He looked down and saw my middle-aged dad bod where he expected to see his slim, young body. He saw my prick throbbing, probably feeling each throb.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!!!" Dustin jumped out of bed and then immediately went, "Oh shit! Oh shit! My back!"
"Calm down! You're in my body!" I told him. "So you can hurt yourself easily, trust me. Here, have some coffee."
I made Dustin sit back in bed and I gave him the coffee, making him drink it like it's medicine. After he calmed down, I tried to explain the situation: we were in each other's bodies.
"But how…?" he asked in disbelief.
"I got something to tell you," I said. "Last night I made a wish using the wishing stone and I think… maybe that's what caused us to switch."
"That's impossible!" he argued.
"Okay then, I'd love to hear your explanation," I said.
"What the fuck? So we're stuck like this forever?!" he panicked.
"No, I don't think so. At least I hope not. Remember what Marcus said: our wish would come true within two days? Maybe that means we'll go back in two days."
"How do you know?! Oh my god, we need to call Marcus," my son continued freaking out.
"Easy. Panicking won't solve anything. I'll call Marcus and I'm sure he'll be right over, we'll see if he can tell us more."
Dustin sat on my bed, looking desperate. It was actually quite disturbing to see my own aging face look so despairing.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I feel like this is my fault for making that wish."
"Maybe. But I also… I also made a wish," Dustin said. We both revealed our wishes to each other, and then sat in silence for a couple of minutes, unable to speak. Finally, Dustin said, "I need to pee."
"Yeah. You know how to do that," I told him. "Except, you're in my body now."
"Holy fuck, this is mortifying," Dustin reacted.
Dad was right: there was no scientific explanation for all of this. Maybe we'd both inhaled some sort of hallucinogenic gas during the night and we were imagining all of this? But that didn't seem very likely either.
Somehow, my father managed to maintain his cool throughout all this. It was actually quite helpful, because I was about to lose my shit. He talked me into keeping calm and waiting patiently for Marcus to get here. In the meanwhile, I stared at myself in the mirror, except it was Dad's body I was looking at. My back was killing me and I could barely stand up. I'd never felt so tired in my life, and the coffee wasn't helping too much either.
I realized I had woken up with a boner but it'd quickly gone anyway. This thought was particularly harrowing since I did NOT want to think about my father's penis at all, let alone touch it, let alone be attached to it! But I had no choice. I had to pee, so I went to the bathroom and I pulled out Dad's dick, immediately impressed by the size of it. I was quite hung but my father seemed even bigger than me. Guess I have him to thank for those genes.
I looked down, examining my dad's dick with curiosity, as weird as that fucking was. Finally, I let go and started peeing, savoring the relief coming over me. I noticed Dad's balls were hairier than mine, and his patch of pubes more unruly. I guess Marcus didn't have a problem with plucking pubes out of his mouth when sucking my father's dick.
Once I was done peeing, I tucked the dick away in the raggedy boxers I had on. I wanted to change into something else so I went to my room and tried putting on a pair of my boxer briefs, when I realized the waistband was too tight to go around my father's waist. Instead, I headed to Dad's room to ask him for a clean pair of his underwear, anything other than the worn-out pair I had on.
I realized my father was in the shower, humming calmly like this was just a normal Saturday. Feeling nosy, I poked my head into the bathroom to look at my own body in the shower, water running down my taut muscles.
"Holy fuck!" I thought. This was so surreal!! For the first time in my life, I was getting a really good view of my ass. The few girls and boys I'd hooked up with had all complimented it, and I was hypnotized by how it looked in the shower as shower gel ran down my body's spine and between my perky ass cheeks.
Then, Dad started to turn around. Thankfully he had his eyes closed so he didn't see me, but as he turned to face me I realized… he had a huge throbbing hard-on. It was MY hard-on. My own dick, pointing at me like an arrow. And it was my father who got to feel the blood rushing to it. That incredible tingly sensation that came with being hard. And he didn't shy away from it. On the contrary: I saw him wrap a fist around it and start stroking, jacking off in the shower while he was in my body!
I breathed rapidly with both panic and horniness. I felt myself pop a boner as well. I looked down at myself to see my dad's dick poking out of the fly of his favorite boxers.
Swallowing spit, I wrapped a fist around it as well. I'd never noticed my father had hairy fingers, but now I was in control of them. I used them to stroke his dick, feeling the pleasure pulsing though the body I was in. It was good enough to finally make me forget about the pain in my back for a second. There I was – jerking off in Dad's body while spying on him jerking off in mine. I watched my young muscles flexing under the shower as Dad rubbed them with his free hand, obviously enjoying touching them. He thrust his hips forward, fucking his hand, getting both of our dicks harder and harder.
"Mmm," I tried to suppress a moan while working my dad's dick. Masturbating in his body felt… different. It was fucking amazing, but still unlike doing it in my own body. I never thought I'd get to experience this from this perspective, ever, and now that I had the chance I was glad I was taking advantage of it. And my father seemed to have the same exact thought.
I continued to observe as he stroked under the shower, giving me a show of my hot, young body. I was never an athlete but I was in decent shape, and at the risk of sounding conceited: damn, I looked good! Just as I focused on my tight obliques, I was surprised when Dad suddenly started cumming under the shower. I saw cum shooting out of my dick and going down the drain, while Dad loudly moaned in my own voice as he felt my balls being emptied.
"Shit!" I whispered, about to blow a nut as well. I looked down at my dad's dick that I was holding, and saw it erupt with a HUGE cumshot. "Holy shit," I panted as more and more cum kept cumming out of my dad's balls. It was the same cum that'd made me, which was a WILD thought to have while experiencing this sensation. I gripped harder and continued to nut, catching the jizz in my hand so it wouldn't make a mess on the floor.
Once Dad's cumshot was over, I got scared that he was about to open his eyes and catch me creeping on him, so I quickly turned away. I looked for something to use to wipe the cum off my hand, but then I got an idea…
I'd tasted my own jizz plenty of times. But this wasn't my cum I was currently holding: it was Dad's. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I raised my hand up to my lips and lapped up the jizz that was in it, tasting my Dad's sperm for the first time.
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