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You Never Forget Your First Time


    As March neared its end, memories from the holiday season in California started to fade and become more vague; but the way I felt only became stronger. After having sex with another man for the first time on New Year's Eve, I wanted to experience it again but I had no idea how to go about it. 

    Now that my son knew that I was open to hooking up with men, he suggested I try on some apps ("Grindr's more popular, but Scruff might be better for daddies like you"), but I was too much of a technophobe and nervous to do that. Besides, it's not like I wanted to fuck just any man out there. I kept thinking about Toni – the boy I did it with in LA. We were still in touch, even though he was busy with school and had some personal issues he was dealing with. It made me want to fly there to see him, hug him, comfort him… and dump another load in his ass.

    A couple of days before the end of the month, I was in my kitchen on a Tuesday evening when I got a phone call from Eli.

    "Dad! I've got great news. I'm going to mixology school!" my son shouted gleefully.

    "Congratulations! Now, what school is this?" I asked.

    "Only one of the best in the country! It's in LA, Greg helped me get in. He's been telling me to apply for months and I did, and I finally got accepted. It's a three-month program, and you learn all about cocktails and fancy wines and stuff like that. AND they help you get in touch with some of the best restaurants and hotels out there. It's a really big deal in the bartending world."

    "I'm very, very happy for you, Son," I said. And I was, even if the terms "three-month program" and "LA" meant that Eli would be moving further away from me.

    "It starts in a couple of weeks," my son continued, "but I need to figure out what to do with my apartment here in Chicago first. I'm thinking of subletting it. I already found someone interested, but they wanna move in on the 1st, which is this Thursday."

    "Aha," I nodded.

    "Which means I either need to fly out to LA tomorrow, or, I was wondering if I can come stay with you for a few days so I wouldn't need to to rush."

    "Of course, honey. You know you're always welcome here."

    "Great. I'll take the train tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to seeing you, Dad."

    "I'm looking forward to seeing you too, Eli," I smiled.

    The following day, my son and I spent the evening catching up in my living room. We were having some wine and Eli stepped outside to smoke a joint a few times, leaving me reminiscing about the last time the two of us sat here, and I ended up with Eli's load on my face. Memories like that still made me think "Did that really happen?" to this day.

    This time, however, the conversation was less sexual. Eli filled me in on more details about the bartending course he'd be attending, and how Greg helped him figure it all out.

    "How is Greg?" I asked my son. Greg and I were Facebook friends now, but I'd noticed he stopped posting a couple of weeks ago, so I had no idea what was going on in his life. 

    "He's okay, I guess," Eli replied somewhat hesitantly. "At least that's what he says. To be honest, he sounds kinda weird. He keeps insisting it's nothing to do with me, and that he's not sick or anything. He said we can talk about it in person once I'm there."

    "Yeah, I've noticed he's been absent online as well," I added. "I hope he's okay."

    "I'm sure he's fine, probably just work or something," my son reassured me. "Obviously, I'll be staying with him during the three months that I'm there, so I'll take good care of him."

    "I bet you will," I laughed out loud, well aware of what kind of "care" my son usually provided to his boyfriend.

    Suddenly, an idea struck Eli.

    "Hey, why don't you come with me?! I've been looking at flights out of Columbus, and I think I'm flying out on Friday of next week. You can come for the weekend and be back on Sunday."

    "I don't know," I said, taking a sip of wine. "I'm not like you, I'm not used to all this flying back and forth."

    "I know that, but it'll give you a chance to see Greg. Plus, there's that boy that you've been keeping in touch with, what's his name?"

    "Toni," I answered.

    "You can see Toni again. Maybe go for round two," my son teased and winked at me.

    "Oh okay," I caved in. "Count me in."

    A few days later, it was a Saturday, and I was up before Eli (no surprise there). I went out to run some errands and get groceries. I made sure to get extra wine and snacks, since I assumed my son and I would be spending most of the weekend home alone. Which is why I was surprised to return to the house and see someone else in there with Eli already.

    "Noah! Nice to see you," I said, greeting my son's best friend. At least I think he and Eli still considered each other "best friends," even though they didn't see too much of each other after Noah went to college and Eli moved to Chicago.

    Recently graduated, Noah was now back in Columbus and working at a local company, making decent money from what I could tell. He looked like a million bucks.

    "Hey, Mr. G," Noah greeted me using a nickname that made him sound like a child, but he was definitely grown now! He was wearing a sweatshirt that he filled out very nicely with his bulging muscles. Noah was always a skinny kid, not as athletic as his baseball-playing older brother Jake, but he seems to have discovered working out in college and was now a bona fide hunk. That body in combination with his gorgeous smile probably made most girls go after him and beg to have his babies. 

    Unfortunately for them, Noah was gay, just like my son. Not just that: from what I could piece together, even though he used to be versatile, Noah was now a "total bottom," and quite an insatiable one at that. Since finding out about my sexuality, my son was now more comfortable sharing personal information like this about himself and his friends with me. 

    I put the groceries away and joined the two young men, bringing beers for everyone. Eli and Noah were just finishing off their first round, and we all raised our bottles. I'd known Noah most of his life, but this was our first time drinking together.

    "Cheers! To being here and being queer," my son shouted, and we clinked bottles.

    Almost immediately, the conversation turned to sex, which is, I assume, mostly what my son and his friend talk about. Apparently, after being in a monogamous relationship for four years in college, Noah was "letting his freak flag fly" now, and being a proud slut all over Columbus. He talked about taking loads in parking lots, public restrooms, in married men's garages while their families were at home.

    "Where do you find all these men?!" I asked in awe. If I hadn't bumped into Toni at that restaurant in LA, I would've had no idea where to go.

    "I'm telling you, Dad, online's where it's at! You gotta download some apps, whether you're looking to date or fuck, or both," my son encouraged me.

    "But how do you go from talking on an app to fucking in someone's garage?" I enquired.

    "There's usually not a lot of steps in between," Noah said. "There's a ton of guys out there looking to get laid."

    "When you're your age and look like that, I'm sure there are," I winked at Noah.

    "Ha, I'm sure that helps. But don't underestimate that daddy charm you got going on, Mr. G."

    This started a series of playful flirtations between Noah and me, where he referred to me as "Daddy" and asked a few candid questions about my first time with a guy. I had no problem sharing the story with Noah (and Eli, who'd already heard all of it. It was what led to him blowing that load on my face a few weeks ago).

    Noah then decided to share one of his stories.

    "I've been fucking with this married dad for the past few months," he said, adjusting his bulge, which seemed bigger ever since I'd started telling my story. "He's closeted, but we fuck at his house when no one's around. Then a few weeks ago, I get a message from this 20-year-old that still lives with his parents, and he invites me over for a quickie, and IT'S THE SAME HOUSE! It's the guy's son! They use different apps so they don't know about each other, they're both like 'oh, if my family found out they would kill me.' So I didn't tell them. I just have fun with both of them."

    "Fuck, that's crazy," Eli reacted, grabbing his own bulge. "Imagine if that happened to us," he said, looking my way.

    "Well, that can't happen since you're both out of the closet now, but maybe something else can," Noah said suggestively. "Mr. G, why don't you go sit next to your son on the couch?"

    I looked from Eli to Noah with confusion, but decided to do as I was told.

    I got out of my armchair and as soon as I was on the couch next to Eli, Noah was on his knees in front of us.

    "Did you know I used to have a crush on you, Mr. G?" Noah asked as he put his hands on my crotch, rubbing my cock through my jeans. 

    "You did?!" my son asked, sitting on my left. Apparently this was as much news to him as it was to me.

    "Yup, all through high school, maybe even middle school," Noah said, rubbing my cock while making eye contact with my son. In my pants, I felt my dick rising until there was nowhere else to go but out.

    "You were the closest I had to a father figure," Noah – who was raised by a single mom – said to me. "One time," he continued while unzipping my pants, "I went through your laundry and jerked off while sniffing your underwear. Fuck, I've been dreaming of doing this for so long," Noah moaned and he opened his mouth wide, swallowing my cock in a single gulp. 

    "Fuck, that's hot!" I heard my son say. Two seconds later, Eli was pulling out his own cock and starting to jerk off while watching me get a blowjob right next to him. "It must feel great, finally tasting the dick you've been lusting after for so long," my son said as he stroked his boner, which my eyes were glued to.

    "Umpf, you have no fucking idea," Noah replied with a mouthful of cock.

    "You've turned into such a fucking slut," my son continued. What would normally sound offensive sounded like a compliment coming from Eli. "I can't believe the first guy that ever fucked me is now a whore bottom."

    "I remember that day," I said suddenly. The boys were both sixteen, having a sleepover at Noah's while his mom was gone. After an unusually long time in the bathroom, getting ready, Eli had confessed to me that he was prepping for his first time. I'd felt so proud in that moment, that my son would open up to me about something like that.

    "I remember it too. I remember you quizzing me all about it the following morning," my son chuckled while stroking his cock, making eye contact with me. "You were asking me all these questions about how it went as soon as I got home. Meanwhile, I still had Noah's and Jake's cum inside my ass."

    "What?!" I asked in shock, and judging by the way Noah gagged on my cock, it sounded like he was shocked as well.

    "Yeah," Eli nodded. "That night, after Noah fucked me and loaded me up, he was asleep and I bumped into his older brother in the living room. Jake bred me as well."

    I felt my dick pulsing inside Noah's warm mouth, leaking precum down his throat. Hearing my son talk about being "bred" and "loaded up," and fucked by two dicks – two brothers of all people! – on his very first night… It did something to me and I almost came inside Noah's mouth.

    Luckily, Noah was an expert cocksucker. He could tell I was close to the edge so he stopped at the crucial moment, prolonging my pleasure. Scooting a couple of feet to his right, he was now kneeling in front of my son, while still stroking my shaft with his left hand.

    "My brother fucked you that night?" Noah said, licking his lips and looking up at Eli. He grabbed my son's cock with his right hand and stroked both of us at the same time and with the same exact tempo.

    "Yeah," my son nodded again. "I mean, you were good, I'm glad my first time was with you. But Jake really knew what he was doing, he'd fucked so many girls by then."

    "I can't believe you two went behind my back," Noah said, sounding turned on by the idea.

    "Yeah, we fucked around for a few months until he went to college. On more than one occasion, he'd blow a load inside my mouth and I would kiss you shortly after that."

    "Fuck!" Noah and I swore simultaneously. 

    I'd always thought that my son became "wild" only after meeting Greg; that Greg was the one who corrupted my boy. Turns out, Eli was out there being freaky even in high school. Even at 16, he'd experienced more things than me at 46 today.

    "Jake fucked me in your bed several times," Eli said to his friend as Noah put my son's cock in his mouth. "We went through a phase that summer where I begged him to fuck me every single day. Fuck, I was even more of a slut than you are now! I knew he was going away to college, so I wanted to get every last drop of cum from his balls before he left."

    Hearing my son describe himself as a teenage slut, on a quest to get a baseball jock's cum, as much of it as possible… I could feel my own balls churning out cum, ready to blow…

    "I'm gonna cum!" I warned Noah, whose fist was still pumping up and down my cock. Quickly, he moved his head from my son's lap onto my own. As he did so, a long string of Eli's precum connected his cock with mine, linking them together for a couple of seconds.

    "AHH, fuck!" I shouted, putting my hands on the back of Noah's head and starting to fuck his throat.

    "Yeah, Dad! Give it to him! Trust me, he can take it. Go harder!"

    I took my son's advice and pounded Noah's throat mercilessly, the way I'd never done to anyone else. The cocksucker gagged and drooled all over my hairy lap, but I followed Eli's directions: "Go harder, Dad! Fuck his face!"

    "AAAAARRRGGHH!" I grunted, almost barking as I unloaded inside Noah's mouth. He's been lusting after my cum for most of his life, and now after all these years he was finally receiving his reward.

    "Good job, Dad!" my son cheered me on, our knees bumping against each other as I blew my load inside his best friend's mouth. 

    "Don't swallow! Come here," Eli said next, and pulled Noah off my cock as soon as I was done cumming. Gripping his hair, Eli brought Noah's head back to his own lap and said, "Now spit! Spit my father's spunk all over my dick."

    Noah did as he was told, and I watched in awe as my sperm glistened on my son's cock. Eli stroked himself for a few seconds, before bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking my cum off of them. 

    "Fuck, Son…" I muttered, not knowing what else to say.

    Pulling Noah's hair again, Eli shoved his own cock back in his friend's mouth. Pretty soon, Noah got to swallow both Eli's cum as well as my own when my son blew his load down his buddy's gullet. 

    "Fuck," Noah said, wiping his lips as soon as he was done swallowing. 

    "Well…" I said, my half-hard cock still poking out of my jeans, "how about I make us some lunch, huh?"

    Precisely a week later, my son and I were in LA. Greg had picked us up at the airport on Friday night, and my son was right: there was something off about Greg. Since it was late at night, we all went to sleep as soon as we got to Greg's house and I didn't get a chance to talk to him too much.

    The following day, Greg wanted to go out with Eli so they could talk one-on-one. I realized this must be whatever "big conversation" they needed to have, and instead of them going out I suggested I make myself scarce for a few hours, so they could talk more comfortably at Greg's house. Even though unusually quiet, Greg seemed grateful for my offer.

    With nowhere else to go, I got in touch with Toni, and we arranged to meet for lunch at the restaurant where we first bumped into each other.

    "I have something for you," I said and presented the teen with a gift-wrapped box. Inside it was a sexy jockstrap I'd bought at the gay shop in Columbus that my son took me to after my birthday. It was red, just like the jock Eli had picked for himself that day.

    "I know you like jocks," I said to Toni as he opened the box.

    "Thanks," he said, but he seemed kinda quiet as well.

    ("What's going on with everyone in LA," I wondered, "why is everyone so moody? Is there something in the water? Nevermind, everyone here drinks bottled water anyway.")

    "I'm here for the weekend," I said. "I'm staying with a friend."

    "Is that the guy you met here for lunch, the day you and I met?" Toni asked.

    Thinking back, I remembered that Toni had walked into the restaurant shortly after Greg that day.

    "Yeah," I said, "how do you know?"

    "Truth is… it's not a coincidence that we met. That day, I was following that guy. I followed him into the restaurant."

    "You were following Greg?" I asked, completely lost. "How do you even know him?"

    "I didn't back then, but I do now. You see, he…" Toni took my hand in his, shaking like a leaf.

    "Shh, it's okay," I reassured him. I went into paternal mode and took both his hands in mine, rubbing and squeezing them gently. "What's wrong, baby?"

    "Oh, Daddy…" Toni took a big breath, mustering the courage to come out with it. "Greg… Greg is my father."

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