I Want You to Have It
May 7, 2020
"There you go, sir."
"Thank you," I said as I stepped out of the car, still unsure of what I was stepping into.
And then I saw him: Dad, standing on a small yacht docked in the pier, smiling at me, dressed in the nicest tuxedo I'd ever seen anyone wear. He seemed to have everything perfectly planned, down to the evening breeze that was blowing through his hair.
I incredulously looked at the driver as he held the door for me. He waited until I got out of the way, before shutting the door behind me, getting back into the limo, and driving off.
"I… I don't know what to say," I said to Dad as it was just the two of us, talking loudly so he'd hear me all the way up.
"Happy birthday, baby," he shouted, and started descending down the steps to help me onto the yacht.
"This… this isn't your boat, is it?"
"No. It's yours."
"I'm just playing," he laughed. "I rented it for the evening."
My heart pounded. At this point, I wouldn't put anything past Dad.
"Thought it'd be nice to sail around the city for a bit," he continued, as we stepped onto the boat holding hands. "It's a nice view. And it'll give us some privacy."
"Is it just the two of us?"
"No. There's the guy sailing the boat, and a chef that's cooking for us. But they won't bother us."
"Dad. I love you."
I turned to him, took his face in my hands, and planted a big, wet kiss on it.
Half an hour later, we were sitting at a table on the yacht's terrace, drinking champagne and watching the city skyline.
"You're really spoiling me, you know?" I said.
"I wasn't there to do it for 18 years, so it's about time," he said. I looked away. I was almost forgetting this is my father this was all happening with.
"When did you get to Boston?" I asked.
"This afternoon. Had everything arranged beforehand."
"I never asked," I tried to sound casual, "how was your trip to New York?"
"It was… okay," Dad answered. I had a feeling he was withholding something but I didn't want to push it.
"Did you get to see everyone?"
"No. Rory was really busy, the baby's due any day now."
"And Taylor and Owen?"
"They're okay," he said, rather dismissively.
I took a sip and looked out into the water.
"I didn't sleep with either of them if that's what you're wondering," Dad reassured me.
"I'm not," I took his hand. "I'm just being conversational. Let's talk about something else."
"Like what?" Dad laughed.
"Like… your 19th birthday. What was that like?"
June 30, 2002
"Monsieur Ben, bonjour," the friendly baker greeted me as I walked into his shop, like every morning.
"Bonjour, François. Deux croissants, s'il te plaît."
"Oui, comme toujours. Ça va aujourd'hui?"
"Oui. Aujourd'hui, c'est mon anniversaire," I announced my birthday in my rudimentary French that I'd picked up over the past two months in Paris. I saw the baker disappear behind a display case full of cakes and when he came back, he was carrying a box with a small, but beautiful cake in it.
"Mais, non…" I shook my head.
"Si, j'insiste. Joyeux anniversaire."
"Merci, François. À demain."
I accepted the cake and left the bakery feeling even better than I had this morning. Funny how fast you get used to a good thing. Walking through the quaint Parisian neighborhood, it already felt like home. To think I was just 19 and this was all happening! I had such high hopes for the future. Everything seemed perfect. Well, everything except one thing…
I left the States a week after my son's first birthday. My only child, and he was growing up estranged from me. But surely, this is what was best for Sam? His mom and her parents were taking such good care of him. I was making money hand over fist, and a good chunk of it went straight to him. He was better off without me. I would make a lousy family man. I didn't even know if I was… what I was.
"Morning, birthday boy," I heard as soon as I stepped back into the apartment.
I was staying in Paris with my "friend" Parker Anderson. The simplest label for us seemed to be "friends." Behind my back, I'm sure people called him my sugar daddy; after all, he was the one flipping the bill for this whole shebang.
I could tell many wondered if I was just pretending to be gay and taking advantage of him. Two things I knew for sure. 1: I genuinely cared for Parker. And 2: my own sexuality confused the fuck out of me.
I put the complimentary birthday cake I'd received in the fridge, before jumping in bed next to Parker and having our croissants.
"I have a little something for you," he said, and reached over to the nightstand and pulled out an elegant box covered in black velvet.
I could tell there was a piece of jewelry in the box, and I was right. It was an expensive golden chain and locket, flashy yet not too tacky. I opened the locket. Inside was a black-and-white photo of me, taken just days ago by a renown Parisian photographer.
"So you always remember this trip," Parker said and accepted a thank-you kiss from me. "So, what do you want to do today?"
"Let's just play tourists all day," I said. "Take the Métro and go see the Eiffel Towel."
"Is that what you really wanna do?" he chortled. Parker liked to think typical tourist attractions were beneath him.
"Yes. We've been in Paris for almost two months and we haven't done it yet. And we're going to London soon."
"Whatever you want, baby," he said and leaned in to give me a kiss.
An hour later, we were in the epicenter of tourist Paris. I have to admit, I could tell why Parker had no patience for crowded places like this. Still, for a small-town boy like me, this was now something I could I'd check off my bucket list.
We walked around the city for a while afterwards, until we found ourselves in a small park. Although there were a ton of people around, this particular spot we stood in seemed fairly secluded.
"You know what," I turned to Parker, whispering. "I think this would be a good spot for a birthday blowjob."
"Now we're talking!" Parker looked around and licked his lips. He loved the danger as much as I did. Within seconds, he was down on his knees, unbuckling my pants.
The city was loud and vibrant in the middle of the day. We could hear people and cars all around us, and see their silhouettes through the trees and bushes. The whole scene made my cock hard in record time, the tip of it hitting the back of Parker's throat within seconds.
I started to moan out loud. Even though I had to keep an eye out, I couldn't help but close my eyes every now and then, enjoying the sensation of getting my dick sucked right here. As I started to lose myself more and more in the moment, I was suddenly startled back to reality by a loud bark.
I opened my eyes and was surprised to see a golden retriever standing next to us. Parker seemed to not give a fuck about the dog and continued sucking my cock like there was no tomorrow. I quickly looked around, wondering where the dog's owner was.
"Pascal!" a male voice shouted nearby, coming closer. A couple seconds later, a handsome young man appeared, holding a leash.
"Désolé," he smiled when he noticed us and what we were doing. He continued looking forward, with no sign of embarrassment or disapproval.
"Pas de problème," I winked at him, as Parker's head continued bopping up and down on my dick.
The stranger and I maintained eye contact; a look of interest in his eyes, a look of mischievousness in mine. I smirked as I watched the man undo his trousers and pull out his uncut dick.
"Chut, Pascal!" he shushed his barking dog, and started jerking off in front of me. The dog's barks were making the situation even riskier… and my cock even harder.
Parker continued sucking me off, while the stranger got boned up and accelerated his strokes. I was getting closer and I could tell on his face that so was he. And then, just as I was about to start shooting my load down Parker's throat, a double-decker bus full of tourists drove by in front of us, tall enough for the people on the upper deck to get a clear view.
"Fuck!" I panted, and started cumming right in Parker's mouth. More eager than ever, he went even faster and tugged on my balls while draining every last drop of jizz and swallowing it all dutifully. Looking at us, the dog walker shot his own load on the grass, shaking from intense pleasure, maintaining eye contact with me all throughout.
"Pascal, non!" he shouted at his dog, who'd come to sniff his fresh cum on the grass. Laughing, he put the leash back around his dog's neck and gave me a wink before continuing on with their walk.
May 7, 2020
"Fuck off! Did that really happen?!"
"It did," Dad laughed, finishing up his story.
"Fuck. Makes this birthday feel boring in comparison."
"Hey! After all the effort I went through!"
"I didn't mean it that way. It's lovely. I just wouldn't say no to a blowjob myself."
"Well, I was saving that for after dinner, but if you insist…"
Dad got up, walked around the table, and got down on his knees in front of me. Me put his hands on my knees and spread my legs open, already making my dick twitch.
"But first," he said, and pulled out something from his inside pocket.
It was a small box. Inside was a golden necklace I'd often seen Dad wear. I opened the locket hanging from it and saw a black-and-white photo of Dad as a teenager. Next to it, on the other wise, was a recent photo from me."
"Dad..." I said, almost tearing up.
Still on his knees, Dad reached over and put his hands around my neck, pulling me down so he could put the chain on me.
"I got this on my 19th birthday," he said, "And I want you to have it now. So you always carry us with you."
I looked down and smiled. Words can't express how joyous I felt in that moment. Dad looked absolutely beautiful, even better than I'd ever seen him. In his tux, he looked like he was about to get married. For a second, a short pang of jealousy hit me. He and I, we'll never be able to…
Dad quickly expelled those thoughts from me head, though, when he proceeded to open my pants and pull out my cock. "Fuck!" I moaned out loud, as my dick got hard and hit the back of Dad's throat. His story still vivid in my head, I could picture it clearly. Dad at my exact age, down do the day, getting his dick sucked in a park in the middle of Paris. And now, years later, sharing that story with his own son. With me.
"Fuck," I said again, grabbing Dad by the hair, just like I imaged him grab his friend Parker. What they had at the time might've been special, with the trips and the luxuries and everything, but it would never come close to what we have. No, what we have is so special, we might be the only people in the world sharing something like this…
"Dad. Dad, I'm about to cum," I started panting. It'd only taken minutes, but I was so turned on that I was getting close.
Instead of slowing down, Dad pushed me even closer to the edge by increasing the speed, driving me completely wild. My toes curled in my shoes; my fist started pulling Dad's hair, but he didn't flinch. Faster and faster he went, until –
"Ah! AH!! Fuck," I started shooting my cum in his mouth, and felt his throat expand and retract as he swallowed it down. Shot after shot, I continued cumming, grasping for air, filling my lungs with the salty scent of the sea.
As I started to calm down, Dad continued to suck my cock more slowly, making sure to get every last drop. I looked at the panorama of Boston and I felt like the king of the city. Just then, I heard someone behind me clear his throat.
"Ahem. Dinner is ready sir," a deep male voice announced.
"Thank you," my dad popped my dick out of his mouth to say. "We'll be right there."