The large hotel shower and the nice products they had in there helped me relax to a degree. Coming out of the bathroom, I had no idea if I were about to see my son still here, stubbornly waiting for me on the bed. I looked around the room and it was empty. On the bed, which still smelled of sex after the night Sam and I had, I saw a pink envelope.
On it, next to Sam's name, he'd written: "I'm sorry. My exam's over at 7:15 tonight. Hopefully we can talk then."
"So how'd you do?!" Brady accosted me the second our Statistics final was over.
"Meh. Lousy, but not as bad as I feared," I said on our way out of the classroom. "I might still manage a C."
"See, I told you, man," he patted my back. "Holy shit! Look who's here."
Coming down the front steps of the building, I looked up to see my dad standing nearby, waiting a few yards from the entrance, almost as if scared to walk up too close.
"Can I come meet him?!" Brady jumped enthusiastically, unaware of the drama his text had caused between my father and me this morning.
Even though he looked more somber than usual, Dad still looked hot as hell. Wearing a polo and designer shades, he looked effortlessly gorgeous; casual, yet elegant.
"So nice to meet you! I'm Brady," my roommate went in for a friendly hug. He knew Dad and I were… a thing. A couple. He never asked many questions, but I was impressed by his tendency not to judge.
"Nice to meet you, Brady. I've heard a lot about you."
The three of us walked away from the building. It was still daylight, and a pleasant breeze blew as we leisurely walked through campus.
"How was the exam?" Dad asked the two of us. I said it was "fine," allowing Brady to get chatty and give more details.
"What're you up to next?" Brady asked us. I looked at Dad and we made eye contact. I had no idea what was next for us. Tonight, or ever...
"We were probably gonna go for dinner," Dad took the wheel in answering the question. "Would you like to join us?"
On the one hand, I was happy to have Brady with us at the Mexican restaurant we ended up going to. After all, this is what I'd wanted: for things to go back to normal. During dinner, with Brady there, we talked about school, travel, Dad's modeling career… everyday shit. But on the other hand, it felt like Dad and I were ignoring the elephant in the room in not addressing what'd happened this morning.
He and I finally got a chance to be alone (for better or worse) when Brady excused himself to go to the bathroom.
"Glad your exam went well," Dad said when it was just the two of us at the table.
"Thanks. I… I'm glad I took it."
Dad let out a loud sigh. I stared down at my plate, almost about to start crying again.
"Sam, I knew you would regret failing that class without even trying. I don't care if you fail that exam now, but you have to at least try! And it's only your freshman year, you can't afford to let loose so soon."
"Dad… you're right," I took his hand in mine, resting them both on the table. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for planning to skip the exam. And I'm sorry for what I said. That wasn't nice. I was just… desperate, I guess."
"That's okay," I felt Dad rub the back of my hand with his thumb. He was about to say something else, but I felt him cut himself off. There was a lot to be said, but we had no idea whether talking about any of it would do any good.
"I see you found the tickets to San Francisco," Dad said quietly, changing the topic. I was grateful he did so.
"Yes. I don't know what to say. Thank you. I'd love to go. If… If the offer's still on the table," I looked at him and smiled.
"Course it is," he smiled back, and put his arm around me, giving me a kiss on the cheek. When he saw Brady walking back toward us, Dad quickly pulled away.
"That's okay," I reassured him, and took his hand again. "He knows. He knows about us."
"And you're… okay with that?"
"Yes," I nodded, still smiling.
If my roommate was surprised to see the two of us holding hands when he got back to the table, he didn't show it. Instead, we started talking about the food, and I was joyous and grateful that things were, indeed, back to normal.
"I love Mexican food. Bet it's even better in LA," Brady said to my dad.
"It is pretty good."
"I've never been to Cali. I'd love to go."
Suddenly, I got an idea.
"What're you doing in June?" I asked. "Dad and I are going to San Francisco for Pride. Wanna join?"
Granted, I loved spending time alone with Dad, but having Brady there for a few days would make it so much fun. Besides, he might even bring the two sexy daddies he's with.
"Oh my god. Are you sure?!"
"Sure. Right?" I looked at Dad.
"The more the merrier," he smiled.
I liked my son's roommate, he seemed like a nice kid. After the two of them started complaining about not being able to drink at the restaurant, I invited them back to my hotel and got drinks on our way there. In my room, we joked, played music, and I got to listen to their hilarious college stories. With it being the end of their first year, they had every right to celebrate.
It was after midnight when my son's roommate picked up his phone to order a ride and go see his boyfriends (yes, boyfriends plural. I was happy that my son ended up rooming with somebody who was not only gay, but very open as well).
The second Brady was out the door, Sam jumped on top of me and we started kissing and ripping our clothes off.
"Let's never fight again," he panted, our noses touching and saliva linking our lips.
"Deal. You just do what I say and we won't need to fight."
The only thing better than make-up sex is drunk make-up sex. Sam and I had only had a few drinks each, but we both felt way drunker because of how heightened our emotions were after everything that'd happened today.
"Yessir, Daddy," Sam said, as I pushed him down and made us switch positions. I was the one on top now. I straddled Sam and pinned him down, clasping his wrists against the mattress and aggressively making out with him.
We struggled for breath, both of us barely getting any air between our passionate kisses.
"Fuck me," my son begged of me.
"Not yet, boy," I replied, kissing him even more vehemently as he raised his legs up in the air.
He wanted it bad and he wanted it right now. But I had other plans. I licked my lips, and slowly lowered my head down to Sam's nipples, biting and licking them. I let go of his wrists so I could bring my fingers down to start pinching his nips as I played with them.
Getting hornier than ever, Sam moaned and groaned and twisted in my bed. I continued to pleasure him by slowly going down his stomach, licking his belly button, before continuing to slide the tip of my tongue down to his crotch.
I tucked my hands in behind Sam's knees and lifted his legs up. Lying on his back with his ass in the air now, Sam's hole winked at me invitingly as he moaned, wanting more.
I licked my lips again before burying my tongue in his smooth hole. I went all in right away, and then I pulled away teasingly, rimming along his asscrack slowly. Up and down, and then back in the middle and inside. I could feel Sam's legs shaking in my hands, and I saw his fists grip the sheets tightly. I went deeper in. Back to work, back inside my boy's hole with my tongue.
Sam's loud moans reverberated across the room, making my dick harder by the second. His smooth, soft ass fit perfectly in my hands as I let go of his legs so I could start kneading his asscheeks. I gave them a few smacks while I was there. Sam yelped, but he enjoyed it. He deserved it, anyway; he'd been one naughty boy today.
I continued rimming him, going deeper and deeper in with my tongue, before using two fingers to start finger-fucking his hole. I shoved my index and middle finger in, before pulling them out and licking them so they would glide more smoothly.
I looked at my son's body as I fingered him. In one short year, he'd gone from a skinny twink to a muscle jock. He went from too shy to show off in front of me, to posting near-naked selfies for all of the internet to see. "Like father, like son," I thought as I admired his body.
Suddenly turned on, I couldn't wait much longer either. I got up on my knees and leaned in to kiss Sam again, my dick sliding in between his cheeks.
"Fuck me, Daddy," he said, looking me dead in the eyes.
Only too happy to oblige, I spit in my hand and used it to lube up my cock. We didn't need much: Sam's hole was already wide open.
Slowly, I pushed inside Sam while maintaining eye contact with him, catching the pain and pleasure in his eyes. Seconds later, when I was all in, it was pure pleasure, for both of us.
"Fuck, yeah!" he moaned.
"Yeah? You like it when Daddy fucks you?"
"Oh, I love it, Dad," he replied as I thrusted back and forth.
"You like taking your own father's cock, boy?" I grunted, looking at my son's muscles flexing as he got fucked.
"Fuck, yeah! Breed me, Dad," he continued to maintain eye contact.
"Yeah? You want your little siblings inside you?" I used the phrase he himself had come up with. "You want me to cum inside you like I came in your mother when we made you?"
"Fuck, Dad, yes!!"
I put my large hands on my son's growing pecs, squeezing them tightly, as I pumped back and forth faster and deeper inside his hole. Sam closed his eyes in pleasure and tilted his head back.
"Look me in the eyes, son!" I barked. Sam obeyed immediately. "Look me in the eyes as I shoot my load inside of you. As you take your own father's cum inside your guts."
With that, I flooded my son's hole with my seed, letting go of spurt after spurt of cum that all landed inside him without missing a drop. All throughout, we never lost eye contact for a second, barely blinking.
"Oh, Dad," my son moaned, and rested one hand on his belly.
"You feel that?" I said, putting my hand on his, and slowing down my thrusts as I fucked him. "You feel Daddy's seed?"
"Yes, Daddy," he nodded.
"You're Daddy's special boy," I whispered, then finally passed out on top of him, exhausted. My dick still remained inside him as we cuddled, both of us sweaty after such an intense fuck. Our sweat smelled the exact same way.