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A Huge Fan

July 2019 | Los Angeles



    "Happy Fourth of July, Daddy!"

    "Happy Fourth, honey," my dad replied. He took Mateo in his arms and gave him a big kiss.

    "Oh, hi Sam. I didn't see you there," Mateo said, pinching my dad's ass in front of me. "I have something for you," he added, and handed Dad a gift-wrapped box. "Sorry I didn't get you anything, Sam."

    "That's okay."

    I wasn't really used to Fourth of July presents anyway.

    "Oh wow," Dad said, taking out a tiny, American-flag-pattered speedo from the box. "That's… something."

    "Something for your little followers to see you pose in."

    "I'm sure they'll be thrilled," Dad said.

    "Oh, I'm sure," I thought to myself. 

    I'd been stalking my father's profile ever since I found it. I still couldn't understand how he got away with half the stuff he pulled on there. It was as close to porn as you could get without actually showing everything. In a way, the fact that there was still just a bit of mystery left made the posts even that much sexier.

    Pretending to be looking at my phone, I observed Dad and his boyfriend as they made out in the kitchen, in between getting stuff ready for the small party Dad was throwing later today. My father was wearing a pair of boxers and nothing else, and Mateo used the opportunity to let his hands roam all over my dad's body when they thought I wasn't looking (or, maybe they just didn't care).

    Looking closely, I noticed the bulge in Dad's underwear stir a couple of times as Mateo kissed and felt him up everywhere. They were like the gross straight kids at school who'd couple up and start dry-humping in the middle of the hallway. Then again, looking at them, the bulge in my own pants was starting to grow as well…

    Luckily, a distraction came in the form of a FaceTime call from my friend Lamar.

    I got up and headed upstairs, careful not to show my front to my father and Mateo. Once in my room, I closed the door and finally accepted the call.

    "What took you so long?" Lamar asked. "You look tired as fuck. You okay?"

    "I'm fine, I just got up a while ago. We're three hours back, remember?" I said to Lamar, who was back in Massachusetts. "I had to get to my room first. Dad and his boyfriend," (I said with a note of audible disdain) "are down in the kitchen."

    "Aww. What's the happy couple up to?" 

    "The same old, sucking each other's faces off. Mateo just gave my dad the tackiest gift: a speedo, that's honestly more like a thong, with the American flag on it for him to pose in photos."

    "Just like the Founding Fathers intended."

    "I bet."

    "Well," Lamar continued, "I'm sure I'll see it on his profile soon enough."

    "What, you follow him?"

    "Of course I do. I jerk off to him every day now."

    "Man, gross!" I yelled out loud, before lowering my voice. "This is my father we're talking about."

    "Hey, not my fault your father's hot as fuck. Don't tell me you don't jerk off to him?" Lamar teased.

    "Disgusting. Of course I don't," I lied.

    A while later, I went down to the kitchen to find Dad by himself. The boxers he'd been wearing were on the floor, and he was posing in the new speedo he'd just received. 

    "Where's Mateo?" I asked.

    "He's under the impression that six bottles of champagne aren't enough, so he went out to get some more before the guests get here. Hey, can I ask you something?"

    "Sure," I sat down at the kitchen table, with Dad standing a couple of feet in front of me.

    "What do you think about this?" he flexed and posed. The swimwear he was wearing was a size too small; his dick was about to bust out and his ass was swallowing it up in the back.

    "Well, I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to have the flag up your asscrack. Barring that, I'm sure you'll be like all the other thots posing online today."

    "A what?"

    Shit. Sometimes I genuinely forgot that he wasn't my friend but my father.

    "Never mind."

    "C'mon, tell me."

    "A thot. It's like saying a 'ho.' But it's not a big deal –"

    "Did you just call your father a ho?!" he laughed loudly, then came up to me and wrapped my neck in a chokehold. I started laughing as well, which made it more difficult to break free. Dad used the opportunity to start giving me a noogie, making me laugh even harder.

    "Dad! Stop!!"

    As he play-choked me, Dad's bulge ended up right in my face. He probably didn't even notice it but it was impossible for me not to, especially since the speedo he was wearing was so fucking tiny. My nose was almost buried in Dad's pubes, and I watched his tightly-packed bulge wiggle left to right between his thighs as his whole body shook.

    After almost a minute of torturing me like this, Dad finally let go. 

    "Here," he tossed me his phone. "Take some photos of me. This lighting's great. Help a ho out."

    I continued to smile, amused by how different this relationship was than the one I had with my mom and step-dad. I took some photos of Dad as he turned his ass to me, flexing his glutes.

    "Here," he said, and pulled the back of the speedos in between his cheeks, wearing it like a thong.

    My dick started to react again, as I took photos of Dad's huge ass cheeks, wishing my ass looked like that. When he turned around so I could take photos of the front, Dad's bulge looked a bit bigger as well. I wondered if it was the physical play between us that'd made it grow bigger…


July 2020 | San Francisco



    Sam's first week of his internship ended up being a four-day week due to Independence Day. Meanwhile, I had some time to reconnect with acquaintances from my modeling days who now lived in San Francisco. One of them, Josh, invited me to a fairly large pool party he was throwing on Saturday.

    "And you must be Sam!" Josh said when he met my boy, pulling him in for a hug. Watching a nearly-naked Josh hug my son didn't leave me indifferent.  

    "Nice to meet you. So, how do you know my dad?"

    Josh and I went on to explain how we met when we were both working in London and moved in the same American expat circles. Josh, who was my age, still looked as handsome as ever. He was straight, but being from San Francisco I think he had more queer friends that straight ones. One look around this pool was enough to confirm that suspicion. 

    "Since we're meeting family, I want you to meet someone as well. Blake, c'mere!" Josh shouted, and a boy who seemed to be even younger than Sam showed up. His eyes suddenly got wider and his jaw dropped open.

    "This is my friend Ben," Josh said, "and his son."

    "Y– You're Ben Turner," the boy seemed absolutely starstruck.

    "Why, yes I am."

    I was no major celebrity, but I was used to being recognized on occasion. Blake seemed to know who I was, even though, judging by his surprised reaction, his brother hadn't told him that beforehand.

    "And you're Sam," Blake said. His hand trembled as he shook hands with me and then with my son. "I follow both of you. I'm a huge fan."

    Josh, surprised to hear his brother say that, said "Okay, Blake, don't bother the guests. Why don't you go take care of the music, huh? Play something fun."

    Blake shyly disappeared. 

    "I didn't know you had a brother that much younger," I said to Josh.

    "Yeah, well, Dad's third wife is almost my age. He's my half-brother. I had no idea he was a 'fan' of yours. Just let me know if he starts pestering you."

    "Nonsense. He seems like a great kid."



    I was happy to be invited to a party with my dad. Except… well, that's all it was going to be now. Going to a party with my "dad."

    At first, San Francisco was our little getaway where we could do whatever we wanted. Now that I was interning here and we were socializing with Dad's friends, we had to be… well, father and son.

    In little over a year, our relationship had gone from strangers, to father and son, to lovers, to boyfriends. As things progressed, I was getting more and more emotionally attached without even intending to. 

    Looking around Josh's pool, there were quite a few couples, both gay and straight. Some of them were sitting in each other's laps, kissing, or just holding hands while talking to other people. A pang of jealousy hit me as I wished Dad and I could do that; could be like that.

    At least for now, I got to look at Dad from afar, and admire how hot he looked! As a joke, he'd packed the American-flag speedos from last year, and he was currently the center of attention at the party, flaunting his fit body in that provocative swimwear.

    I went inside the house to get something to eat, when I got a text message. Turns out we weren't the only ones at a pool party.

    "We're going to a party for the Fourth and everyone's telling me to wear these," said the text from my new friend Nathan, along with a photo of him in the eggplant-emoji speedos I made him get.

    "Do it!! 😜😜" I replied, smiling and fondly thinking back to our mutual time in San Francisco.


    Lost in my phone, I hadn't noticed I wasn't the only one in the kitchen. I jumped when I noticed the other person there, but it turns out they were even more nervous than I was.

    "Sorry! Didn't mean to startle you," Blake apologized, blushing. Even though he was my height he had such a baby face, and when he blushed like this he looked even younger.

    "Don't worry." I noticed he was pouring himself a soda so I asked for one as well. "So, have you been following my dad for long?"

    "Oh yes. Years! He's really…" Blake blushed even more, turning the color of the cherry soda he was pouring, "… nice."

    I smiled. I was fairly certain he'd meant to say "hot" or "sexy."

    "Th– That's," he stuttered while handing me my glass, "that's how I found you as well."

    "Ah, yeah?" I said, sitting up on the counter. 

    "Y– Yes. I've been following your fitness journey this past year. You've been a– a huge inspiration."

    "Aww," I was almost about to start blushing myself. 

    Skinny and lanky, Blake looked almost exactly like me when I was in high school. And the fact that he followed people like my dad was almost a fool-proof indicator that he was gay.

    "I've been meaning to start working out," Blake said, looking down at the floor, "I'm just not sure where to begin. May– Maybe you can give me some tips…"

    "I'd love to!" 

    Since Blake and I were the youngest people at the party, we would've probably ended up talking to each other anyway. This way, we seemed to have quite a few things in common, so the afternoon flew by as we sat and chatted, while the "grownups" got drunk and started pushing each other into the pool.

    "Your dad is so hot," Blake finally let it slip. The whole afternoon, he'd been eagerly keeping an eye out on Dad, who was parading his hot body in front of us and everybody else at the party.

    "He really fucking is," I nodded.

    "Can I show you something?" Blake started to blush again. We giggled like two schoolchildren as we huddled over his phone, and he opened a folder titled "BT."

    The folder was full of hundreds of photographs of my father! Photos I'd never seen. Photos from twenty years back. Photos where… he looked just like me.

    I scrolled through the images, utterly hypnotized. Some of them were scans from old magazines. Many of them were ads; usually for cologne or underwear. I had no idea how expansive my father's career had been.

    "He has a fanbase online," Blake added. "That's where I got these from."

    "I've never seen most of these," I said. Dad would occasionally post an old #ThrowbackThursday photo or something, but this was a whole catalog of him throughout the years. He was always attractive, but looking at these images, set up by some of the best photographers and makeup artists in the world… he was fucking gorgeous!

    And then came the provocative ones. A photo of my father fully naked, with his back turned to the camera, standing next to a beautiful woman dressed in an elegant suit.

    "I'm sorry. I hope that's not uncomfortable for you," Blake said modestly.

    "No… no worries."

    I scrolled to the next photo. It was a closeup of a naked man's crotch. He was covering his junk with his hands; on each wrist, he wore three expensive watches. His pubic hair and parts of his cock and balls were visible between his fingers. 

    "Is… is that him?" I swallowed saliva.

    "Yes," Blake answered. Around us, people were splashing in the pool, but we weren't interested in anything except my father's old photos.

    "If you want…" Blake continued, "if you want we can go upstairs and look at these on the computer in my room. It's a bigger screen…"

    "Let's go!"

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