A few years ago, when our 13-year-old son Brett told us "Uncle Austin and I were just talking about dating and stuff… and I wanted you guys to know that I'm gay," his mother and I happily accepted the news. We smiled and patted Brett on the back, even though internally I was still somewhat in shock.
"Are we ready to leave?" my wife asked about ten minutes after the big coming-out moment, picking up her purse from the kitchen counter at my brother's apartment.
"You guys go down to the car. I wanna ask Austin something real quick," I said.
Anne and Brett each hugged my brother goodbye, and they left the apartment.
"Well, that was a surprise!" I said, finally speaking frankly.
"What do you mean?" Austin asked me, looking puzzled.
"Brett being gay, of course! Did you have any idea?"
"Not before tonight, no," my brother shook his head coolly.
"How did you two even get to talking about it?" I enquired.
Austin took a few seconds before answering my question.
"I just… asked him about girls, and he basically told me he's into guys instead. No big deal. Is it?"
"Of course not!" I said defensively. "When've I ever said anything bad about you being gay, or anyone else for that matter? I'm just surprised, that's all. I mean, he's so into sports, and—"
"Plenty of gay men are into sports!" my brother interrupted me.
"I get that, it's just… When you were little, you liked playing with dolls. You hung out with our sisters and their girlfriends way more than you hung out with me," I tried to explain how I felt without Austin taking it the wrong way.
"Yeah, that's what I did. I'm not Brett."
"Do you think… Has there been any research on–?"
"On whether being gay's hereditary?" my brother interrupted me with a laugh.
"Well… you're Brett's biological dad…" I said, admitting a truth that I never uttered out loud.
"I'm no geneticist, but I'm pretty sure it's just a coincidence," Austin smiled. "Listen, I get that you're taken aback, but you gotta keep it cool, and not treat Brett any differently."
"Of course I won't. Well, SOME things will have to change," I laughed. "Now that he's a teenager, I was getting ready to have the-birds-and-the-bees convo with him. How to avoid pregnancy, stuff like that. So if you have any tips on how to have the talk now, let me know."
"I suggest watching a lot of gay porn in preparation," my brother said, and I couldn't tell if he was kidding or not.
A year later, my son started high school, where his athletic prowess REALLY began to shine. Most of the sports were coached by the same person, Coach Kovach, who I vaguely knew because he was only two years older than me and we went to school together back in the day.
Since Brett was one of the star players, when I received a text message from Coach Kovach one day at the beginning of Brett's sophomore year, I assumed it must be good news. I was surprised to hear from Coach directly – usually all communication went through the school or through Brett – but I was happy to go to his office for the requested one-on-one talk.
"I wanted to talk to you about your son," Kovach said earnestly, and I knew immediately that this was no good news. "Brett was caught doing something in the locker room. Normally, I would need to report this to the principal, but as a favor to Brett I decided to talk to you first."
My first worry was that Brett might've been caught taking steroids in the locker room. Even though he was only 15, from what I'd read online, these days there was a blooming market for steroids in high schools, targeting student athletes who were under a lot of pressure to perform. That would also explain Brett's tremendous growth spurt, which had already made him an inch taller than I was. But would my son really do something so irresponsible, putting his life at risk? And without talking to me about it at all? I thought we were closer than that.
"What… What was he caught doing?" I asked with my mouth dry.
"He and another boy… were engaging in oral sex," Coach Kovach replied, his eyes looking straight into mine.
The answer – albeit discomfiting – had also come as a relief to me. Surely this wasn't as bad as injecting illegal steroids. I had to hold back from smiling, so as not to let Coach Kovach think I was taking this too lightly.
"When you say they were engaging in oral sex…" I said delicately.
"I mean I walked in on Juan sucking Brett's dick," Coach said curtly. Clearly, he wasn't someone who could stand beating around the bush. "Students aren't allowed to perform sexual acts on school property. I didn't want to report the boys to the principal, but I also didn't want to let them off the hook so easily. I texted you instead of Brett's mom because… well, you probably understand better what it's like being a teenage boy."
"Yes," I nodded, even though I certainly wasn't the type of teenage boy who ever got his dick sucked at school.
"I'll let you decide what to do with that information," Coach said. "They're not in any trouble with the school. But I told them I better not catch 'em at it again."
"Of course. Thank you, Coach," I said, shaking Kovach's hand and heading home.
That evening, I had a father-son conversation with Brett in his room. Although I'd expected it to feel awkward and uncomfortable for both of us, it actually ran pretty smoothly. I started by assuring my son that I wasn't mad at him, and that I won't even tell his mother (who'd probably make a bigger deal out of this).
"Now, who is this Juan guy?" I asked Brett.
"A new kid. Moved here from Texas over the summer," my son said.
"And are you two… boyfriends?" I enquired with a smile.
"Kinda," Brett smiled back. "I mean, we've been hanging out a lot. I like him more than any of the other guys who… I've been with."
I silently wondered if my son had stopped himself from saying "any of the other guys who have sucked me off." Even though Brett was being vague about it, he certainly didn't make this sound like it was his first time, or Juan his first partner. I'd been a virgin (including blowjobs!) until my freshman year of college, when I'd met Brett's mom, who to this day was the only person I'd ever been with. My son didn't seem to take after me in that regard – and in moments like this, I remembered Brett was Austin's biological son. My brother had always been wildly more promiscuous than me.
"Well, why don't you invite Juan over for dinner sometime?" I suggested. It was my way of reassuring my son I was perfectly okay with him having a boyfriend.
"Okay," Brett accepted. "But only if you don't make us stay with you guys in the kitchen all evening! We wanna hang out here in my room."
I had an ominous feeling that "hanging out" in this case might be codeword for more blowjobs, but I figured if they were gonna do it, they're better off doing it in Brett's room rather than the locker room at school, or anywhere else that might get them in trouble.
"Okay," I agreed, giving Brett a hug and leaving his room.
"Close the door please, Dad!" he shouted after me.
I shut the door behind me with a bittersweet feeling in my chest. My boy was no longer a little boy, but every day closer to being a man. It's a tough process for any parent, but in our case it was even more delicate. In our case, it meant I was running out of excuses not to tell Brett the truth about his paternity. Maybe this was as good a time as any?
"Not tonight," I said out loud to myself, shaking my head in an attempt to shake those thoughts off.
When I was little, my father quit his job as an accountant at a large corporation in order to go the self-employed route. I think he got the idea from Uncle Austin, who ran his own interior design business. "Nothing like being your own boss," my uncle always said.
Following in my uncle's and father's entrepreneurial footsteps, I started my own "business" at the age of ten. I printed out flyers in my dad's basement office, offering dog-walking and pet-sitting services, and I distributed them around the neighborhood. I also asked my parents to put them on their Facebook profiles, and I got a surprisingly high number of clients. Looking back, I think many of them were people who were perfectly capable of walking their own dogs, they just appreciated my initiative and wanted to encourage me.
I had a few jobs like that over the years. A couple of years ago, I started working as an assistant hockey coach for younger kids. I still did that every Saturday, and on Sundays I worked at a nearby campground, cleaning up after people's messes. It was hardly glamorous work, but I enjoyed being in nature and the money was decent. However, now that summer was officially over, the campground no longer needed as many employees, so they had to let me go.
Feeling motivated to make as much money as possible before starting college, I immediately began to look for extra work. Just as I was about to walk into a local supermarket to check if they were hiring, I got a text from Uncle Austin's fiancé Rodney that just said "do you have a min to talk on the phone?"
The message made me slightly nervous. Ever since that night when I'd spied on my uncle getting fucked by Rodney, I'd been wondering if Rodney did in fact see me standing in their doorway. He never said anything that night, or on the couple of occasions we'd seen each other since then. Could that be the reason he wanted to talk on the phone now? We texted at times, but I don't think I'd ever spoken to him on the phone in my life.
"ok," I texted back, sitting in the store parking lot and answering my phone, which rang seconds later.
"Listen, I wanna ask you something," Rodney said. Thankfully, his voice sounded easy-going and relaxed, which made me feel better.
"Sure, what's up?" I asked. "Is this about Uncle Austin's 40th birthday coming up?"
"Nah," said Rodney. "I might have a job for you. This family in Otsego's setting up a large gym at their house, and two of the guys I usually work with just canceled on me. So I figured I'd give you a call and see if you and your boyfriend wanna help me carry some of the equipment on Sunday."
"That's perfect, I was just looking for something to do on Sunday!" I replied enthusiastically. "I'll check with Juan, but I think he'll be down."
"Great. I'll text you the address. Try to be there round 10 AM. The family will be out, so we'll have the house to ourselves," Rodney said. "See you then."
On Sunday morning, Juan showed up at my house at 9 o'clock ready for work… if the work was an '80s aerobics instructor. He was wearing black booty shorts and a cropped tank top. There was just enough chill in the air I could see Juan's nipples poking through his shirt, but the day would get warmer. I knew my boyfriend probably wanted to show off for Rodney, which wasn't something that made me jealous. We got in my car, and set off for a 45-minute drive.
It was a beautiful morning, with autumn already in full swing. The trees lining the highway were a collage of red, orange, and yellow. The sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Juan and I started off passing the time singing along to some pop radio station. I was in just a t-shirt and freeballing in a pair of loose basketball shorts. Without underwear, it was easy to spot the length of my dick, which didn't escape Juan's eye. Before long, he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself, and he started rubbing my bulge.
"Careful, babe! I'm trying to drive!" I exclaimed, my dick growing hard under his hand.
"It's not my fault!" Juan laughed, trying to get his hand into my waistband. "You know I can't help myself when you go commando around me. Besides, we're like, the only ones on the road. Let me suck you off! I've always wanted to give road head."
I didn't respond, but also didn't try to stop him from stroking my dick through my shorts. I'd never gotten road head before and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious. I nodded and Juan's face lit up with a bright smile. In his haste to get my dick out, he yanked on the waistband of my shorts a bit too roughly. I heard a ripping noise as the elastic broke, but they were an old pair of shorts anyway so I didn't really care. In seconds, Juan had my dick out and in his mouth with the waistband down underneath my balls.
My cock-hungry boyfriend began slurping on my dick so aggressively, it was making it hard to concentrate on driving. Thank God there was barely any traffic! He was bobbing up and down, trying to take my full length. The motion of his actions made my legs jostle and I accidentally pushed down too hard on the gas, sailing to 90 mph.
"Oh, shit!" I yelled, trying not to swerve. Juan never stopped for a second. I set the cruise control to try and be safer and I let my boyfriend do what he does best. It was still hard to keep driving straight while enjoying the warm sensation of his mouth and lips as he worked my tool up and down. I managed to get one hand on his head and hold him in place, letting him suck harder and harder. Next thing I know, there was a pick-up driving alongside us. The male driver, probably in his 20s, looked over and his jaw dropped at the site of Juan deep-throating me on the highway.
"Shit! Someone saw us!" I cried out, but Juan was relentless. He moaned, making his vocal cords vibrate on my dick and sending shivers down my spine. I looked at the driver again… and saw him grin and give me a thumbs-up before speeding off ahead of us. At least it wasn't a cop. Fuck, I was getting close to cumming. The GPS alerted that our exit was less than a mile away. Feeling overwhelmed, I finally got Juan to stop, but only after I promised him that I would feed him my load later.
We got off the highway and were immediately surrounded by suburbs. The GPS took us another 15 minutes or so before we turned onto a street that was lined with quality, but modest homes. The further down we drove, the more expensive the houses seemed to be. We made one last turn to find the street where we'd be helping Rodney. This street was different. It was broad with big sidewalks. All the houses had immaculate landscaping. Each house must've had six or seven bedrooms. At the end of the street, we reached a large cul-de-sac. Juan and I were both speechless as the GPS instructed us to pull into the driveway of a beautiful mansion partially hidden by trees. The curved driveway must've been a quarter of a mile long. The house had a large U-haul parked in front of a massive three-car garage.
As we parked and got out of my car, I could see that the lot was almost entirely surrounded by trees. It felt like we were in the middle of the woods, totally private. I also noticed the temperature had warmed up quite a bit during the 45 minutes it took to get here. We walked up to the front door, which was wide open. I didn't want to just barge in, so I rang the doorbell. Thirty seconds later, Rodney was in front of us, shirtless, wearing the tiniest pair of shorts I'd ever seen. They look like the kind marathon runners wear, only smaller. He wore them so far down on his waist I could see the thick waistband of his jockstrap.
"Hey, fellas!" Rodney greeted us. He pulled us both into a group hug and I could feel his skin was already damp with sweat and hot to the touch. His armpits smelled faintly of deodorant and sweat. He stepped back and both Juan and I couldn't help but stare at his chiseled torso and six-pack. Uncle Austin sure was a lucky guy to come home to a guy like this every night.
"Isn't this house something or what?!" Rodney pointed out excitedly.
"For real! This is insane," I agreed.
"C'mon, let's get started," Rodney said, leading us to the U-haul. "I've already brought a few things, but still plenty of work to be done. All the boxes that can be carried by one person are closest, we'll start with those."
The back of the truck was already open with a ramp set up. There were dozens of boxes in different shapes and sizes, with the smaller ones towards the opening. We each grabbed a box and then followed Rodney back inside. His ass bounced deliciously in his tiny shorts, as did Juan's in front of me. With his shirt off, I could see Rodney's back muscles rippling. We followed him into the entryway that had a sweeping staircase and a huge modern-style chandelier. We took the boxes upstairs to the spare bedroom that was being turned into a home gym. Luckily, it was the first room at the top of the stairs.
After a few rounds up and down the stairs with these heavy boxes, Juan and I both followed Rodney's example and ditched our shirts. Back at the truck, he handed each of us a bottle of water and we took a short break. It seemed like each of us was trying to discreetly check out the others without being too noticeable. Eventually, though, Rodney was straight up ogling us, admiring our smooth muscled teen bodies.
"You boys are looking great for your age," he said, eyeing us both up and down. "You've both already got some great muscle development. Professionally speaking, of course."
Juan blushed and smiled at the compliment.
"Yeah, Coach Kovach has us lifting weights before school three days a week. I'm glad our hard work is starting to show," I said with Rodney nodding appreciatively.
A minute or two later, I set my water bottle down and sank into a deep squat to pick up one of the heavier boxes. As I stood up, the ripped waistband of my shorts gave way even more and sank below my hips. I could feel the top of my ass hanging out, which meant I was also showing off a considerable amount of pubic hair. I wasn't embarrassed or anything, I was just nervous that my shorts might fall down completely. Juan noticed and wolf-whistled before helping to pull my shorts up over my waist again all the while I'm sure Rodney was staring at the dimples of my lower back and my crack hanging out.
I headed inside with the box and with each step up the stairway, my shorts once again sank below my hips inch by inch. This continued throughout the day, and I was constantly pulling up my shorts. To take matters worse, every time I was carrying a box up the stairs, it seemed like Rodney was always right behind me. It was kinda awkward, basically rubbing my crack in my uncle's fiancé's face, but he never said anything. And then… it happened. I was carrying up another large box, and as I stood up, my loose shorts fell all the way down to my ankles. I had my bare ass completely exposed to Rodney. I lowered the box just enough so at least my dick was covered. Rodney and Juan both burst out laughing.
"Damnnnn. Boy's got booty!" Rodney joked.
"Oh, I know! Oughta be a crime that a top has an ass like that," Juan teased, grabbing both of my asscheeks and pulling them apart while giving them a good squeeze, all in front of Rodney. My face was red more from embarrassment than the physical labor now, and I did NOT get embarrassed easily. My boyfriend (who had just outed me as top) took his time pulling up my shorts, making sure Rod saw him give one of my ass cheeks a quick bite.
We managed to finish unloading all the boxes without any more wardrobe malfunctions. Next, we started working on getting all the equipment set up. This mostly involved Rodney doing all the work while we handed him different parts or tools, holding things up, and cleaning up the boxes and plastic. There were two treadmills, a stationary bike, and an elliptical machine. More often than not, Rod was in a low squat sitting on his heels. Each time, the waistband of his jockstrap was completely exposed as well as the straps showing from the bottom of his shorts. When I saw him from the front, his bulge seemed to almost burst out of his shorts. I kept having flashbacks of seeing him naked and plowing Uncle Austin. I vividly remembered when he pulled out of my uncle's ass and I saw his hard dick in all its glory. I still swear that thing must've been 12 inches!
"You know, Rod," said Juan. "You've got an amazing body. I hope I can grow my chest and arms like yours someday. Do you think you might train us sometime in the weight room?!"
"We might be able to work something out. I used to be a trainer after all," Rodney chuckled while tightening a bolt, Juan's eyes lighting up. Even that simple action had Rod's arms and pecs flexing like crazy. Throughout the afternoon I couldn't stop staring at his bulge, wondering how big his dick really was.
Assembling the equipment took us several hours. Rod helped pass the time by asking about our training regimens and giving ups tips on nutrition and different exercises. By early evening, we finally finished and had the last of the trash back into the rented U-haul.
"Do you boys wanna shower before heading home?" Rod asked, Juan and I exchanging glances. "The homeowners are gone for a week so you're welcome to use the shower in the bathroom."
"Sure, why not," I said, and Juan agreed. We followed Rod back into the house and up the stairs. He took us further down the hallway to the master bathroom, which felt like it had as much space as the entire second floor of our house. There was a massive four poster bed, that I'm sure was a lot of fun to fuck on. Rod opened a door and walked into the huge master bath. The walls, floor tiles, and sink were of expensive-looking marble. The glass walled shower was hard to miss. It had a large rainfall shower head and separate heads pointing lower. There was a shelf lined with toiletries and a bench, both made of the same marble. I don't think I'd ever seen such luxury in a bathroom before.
"Who wants to go first?" asked Rod.
"We're gonna shower together," Juan said.
"To uh, save time," I quickly added as Rod raised an eyebrow.
"Riiiight," he said with a smirk before leaving the room, not even bothering to close the door.
Juan and I hurriedly ditched our shorts and socks and fired up the shower. There was certainly room for two, and with all the showerheads we didn't need to take turns getting wet. We eagerly lathered each other's bodies with soap, washing off the day's sweat. I had my eyes closed, rinsing off under the water when I felt Juan's mouth on my cock again. I look down to see him coaxing my dick to full erection. I had blue balls from earlier, so I got hard within seconds. I'd promised Juan a load earlier, and it was time to deliver.
My boyfriend's plump lips looked so sexy wrapped around my thick cock, and they felt even better. Juan pushed me until I was sitting on the marble shower bench and then went to town deep-throating my dick. The steam from the shower and the amazing oral talent from my boyfriend had a soothing effect, and I closed my eyes to enjoy all the sensations, losing all track of time.
"You boys certainly are taking your sweet time," Rod's voice said suddenly, making my eyes snap open. Uncle Austin's fiancé was calmly standing in the cavernous bathroom, facing the shower with a grin on his face.
"Sorry, Rod! We – ahhh – I think I'll… we'll be done in a minute," I moaned, looking down at Juan's head as he kept on blowing me. If anything, Juan seemed to speed up, using his hands to play with my balls and arching his back to show off his bare ass to Rod.
"Please, take your time," said Rod, looking back and forth between my cock and Juan's hole. Rod came to stand right in front of the shower, and we made eye contact while he slowly pulled down first his shorts and then his jockstrap. For several minutes, Rod watched naked as Juan sucked my cock. My eyes bulged as I noticed his thick meat starting to grow firm. Rod reached down with one hand and slowly jerked himself. He gripped his cock at the base, and well over half of his length was still showing. His dick really was massive. Juan was now using both his hands in a corkscrew motion while bobbing up and down on my dick. I looked up at Rod's face and we made eye contact again, all while I was getting closer and closer to climax. Rod shook his dick and instantly, I started flooding Juan's mouth with my salty load, fulfilling my promise. Juan swallowed all of it, even squeezing the tip to get every last drop, before turning to look at Rod while still on his knees.
"Wow! You really are big!" said Juan, impressed.
"Thanks. I bet your boyfriend already told you that," replied Rodney with a grin.
"Wha– How would I know that?" I asked defensively, my heart skipping a beat.
"Because you saw me fuck Austin a few weeks ago," Rodney revealed. "You stood in the doorway in the dark and watched me fuck your own uncle's ass, didn't you?"
I tried to stay calm, but my dick was still rock hard and throbbing – which wasn't common for me right after I'd blown a load. At least now I knew the truth: Rodney DID see me spying on them that night.
"Yes," I admitted, hanging my head dejectedly. "I'm sorry."
"How big is that thing?" Juan asked Rod, trying to break the tension. "Cuz Brett thinks it might be 12 inches."
"Nah, it ain't that big," Rodney laughed heartily. "I can't give you a number. I've never measured."
"Well, I know for a fact Brett here is 8 inches. Why don't you come on over and compare?" Juan suddenly suggested.
Rodney and I stared into each other's eyes, waiting to see if the other would back down, both of us still stroking our hard dicks. I swallowed forcefully and then said to him, "Yeah. Come on over."