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Howdy, Partner


    This year, my birthday week was turning out to be one of my best ever: I got two daddies to spoil me back-to-back!

    For my actual birthday, Greg got me a ticket to California, and I could only imagine the lavish ways in which he was about to pamper me. Since I wouldn't be seeing Dad on my birthday, I came to Columbus a few days before. Not to be outdone by my boyfriend, my father seemed set to spoil me just as lavishly.

    "Cheers to you, honey," he raised a glass of champagne, sitting across from me at the fancy restaurant he'd picked for us.

    Now, like most parents, Dad always wanted what was best for me and gave me the best he could, but we were never fancy-dinner-and-champagne kinda people. I was somewhat surprised he'd picked this of all places.

    "Thanks, Dad," I blushed and clinked glasses with him.

    "This is for you," he picked up a large gift bag from under the table, and passed it to me.

    "Dad!" I said, even more taken aback. I spent a minute reading the card that was in the elegant bag. Even this, like… Dad bought me gifts often enough, but he didn't really bother with frills like gift bags and tissue paper. Lately, it was like he was trying to impress me.

    "A new MacBook?!" I shouted out way louder than appropriate at a place like this when I opened the bag.

    "You've had yours for quite a few years now, so I thought you might use an upgrade," he smiled.

    "Dad, I don't know what to say. Thanks so much."

    "My pleasure, honey. I love you."

    "Aww, Dad. I love you too," I reached over and squeezed his hand.

    "Before I forget: the store said I might be able to get some cash back if I bring back your old computer to be recycled. Do you mind leaving it with me so I can check?"

    "Sure, I don't need it anyway. Thanks again."

    Dinner that evening went phenomenally. Well, except for one little thing: I just had the weirdest feeling that I couldn't put my finger to… Every time the waitress came over, I felt like there was something familiar about her, but I couldn't tell what. I was sure I didn't know her. I definitely hadn't been here before… It was such a small detail, but I couldn't shake it off.

    And then it hit me! I saw him across the restaurant, serving another table of people. The waiter who'd given my father and Greg a blowjob! A blowjob that my boyfriend recorded and played for me while we were fucking. That's why I kept staring at our waitress: she was wearing the same uniform, ingrained in my subconscious.

    "I need to go to the bathroom," Dad said and got up a few minutes later. "I'll be right back."

    "Okay," I said, acting nonchalantly, but feeling more suspicious on the inside.

    I looked around, trying to spot the waiter again. He was nowhere to be seen. It was a big restaurant, so it didn't have to mean anything, but I couldn't help but wonder… 

    Why did Dad bring me here? Did he just like the place, or was he hoping to see the server again? Was there more to my father than I knew? Looking back, I never knew the reason for my parents' divorce. The generic phrase "irreconcilable differences" had been used. Was the irreconcilable difference maybe that Dad was into men?

    Now, just because someone gets a blowjob from a guy once (as far as I knew!) doesn't have to mean he's gay, I knew that much. But that kiss… The kiss my father and boyfriend shared looked so… passionate. Dad especially seemed to be so into it. Was he suppressing a side of himself that he was afraid to let out?

    Just then, I noticed him walk back to the table. I smiled at him and he smiled back, positively beaming. Is it because he was coming back from another restroom quickie? If there was ever a place to make him feel comfortable, I knew just the perfect solution.

    "Dad. You know how next month is Pride Month?" I asked as he sat back down.


    "Well, you've never gone to Pride with me. And Greg's coming over to Chicago for the big parade. Why don't you come as well? It'll be fun."

    A bit surprised, but happy to be invited, Dad smiled again.

    "Sure. I'd love to."

    After the restaurant, we went to a bar for drinks. This time, Dad let me pick the spot. I took us to one of my favorite joints, a mixed bar with an equally gay and straight crowd. It was a relaxed place, and I felt much better here, surrounded by people wearing baseball caps and sneakers. 

    Dad opened a tab, and the drinks started flowing. I bumped into a couple of people I knew and socialized for a bit, before pulling my dad outside, dragging him to the smokers on the sidewalk.

    "Okay, promise me you won't get mad," I said, reaching in my pocket.

    "What?" he said, rosy in the cheeks after having had quite a few drinks.

    "I scored us some weed from a guy I know. C'mon, what do you say? We've never smoked together."

    He gave me a strict, fatherly look, which quickly turned into a smile.

    "Oh what the hell, it's your birthday!" he said, and waited for me to light the joint.

    "Have you smoked before?" I asked, passing it to him after taking a drag.

    "No, I was waiting for you to teach me all these years," he said sarcastically. "Yes, yes I have. I just never thought I'd be doing it with you."

    I smiled, amused and appreciative of how much our relationship had changed lately. I leaned in closer and gave him a sudden tight hug.

    "Ah, Dad. I love you."

    "I love you too, Eli, but you're choking me," he said and coughed, making me laugh.

     While we smoked, Dad started to get antsy, like a little kid who needs to use the toilet.

    "Do you need to take a piss?" I asked. 

    "Yeah, but let's finish up first," he said, and continued to share the joint with me until we were done. Then, he sprinted inside.

    I remained outside, enjoying the nice evening and wonderful, fuzzy feeling I felt inside. I stood looking at the crowd in front of the bar, consisting of people talking to their friends. Until I noticed a man standing by himself. Around my age, he stood out because of the cowboy boots and the flashy belt buckle he was wearing.

    I took a few steps toward him.

    "Howdy, partner," I said drunkenly, thinking I was oh so clever and funny. "You visitin' from Down South?"

    The man smiled and answered without a hint of a Southern accent.

    "No. I just like to cosplay."

    That made me laugh out loud and put my hand on the man's chest, feeling the nice pec under his shirt.

    "I'm Eli," I offered him my hand.



    After taking an epic piss, I waited to use the single sink in the men's room. In front of me, a young man young enough to be my son was taking his time washing his hands.

    "All yours, Daddy," he said to me when he was done, shaking his hands and winking at me on his way out.

    I checked myself out in the mirror while washing up, remembering Greg's words: "Being in your 40s is awesome. Demand for daddies is at an all-time high."

    Maybe it was the dim lighting, or maybe the fact I'd started to put in a bit more effort into my appearance recently, but… I had to say, I didn't look all that bad.

    I never considered myself particularly attractive, and I didn't care to be. I was a family man, and even after my divorce, I worried about work and my son, not how attractive I was to other people. Lately, though, something in me had changed. Was it the fact that in meeting my son's boyfriend I'd met someone who is my age yet looked so youthful and attractive, and made the whole thing seem so effortless? Is that who I was trying to emulate?!

    Lost in my thoughts, I realized I'd been washing my hands for several minutes already. I snapped out of it and went to rejoin Eli outside. Out on the sidewalk, I saw him talking to a young man in cowboy boots. For a second, I wondered if I should even interrupt. I knew my son and Greg were in an open relationship; maybe Eli was trying to get laid with this guy tonight? It was his birthday, after all. Maybe I should let him have it.

    Eli, however, spotted me and called me over to them. I said hi, and after a quick chat the guy in the cowboy boots said he's heading inside to get drinks for everyone.

    "What's his name?" I asked my son.

    Eli stared. He looked drunk and spaced out already. Next, he burst out laughing.

    "Shit. He told me but I forgot," he said. 

    The stranger came back with our drinks, and we all cheered to Eli once again. Eli got ahold of another joint for us, which we all shared. We continued to drink and smoke that way until the bar was about to close.

    "You know, Dad, our new friend here just got to Columbus and has no place to stay," my son said after the lights at the bar came on. "D'you think he can crash on your couch?"

    When we got back to the house, it was obvious all the booze and weed had gone to Eli's head. Good thing there were two more of us, because we basically had to carry him to bed, while he mumble-sang the whole time.

    "I'm just gonna grab you a pillow and a blanket," I told my houseguest after we'd tucked my son into bed.

    "Thank you," the stranger replied. "And thanks for letting me stay here."

    When I went back down, I was surprised to see the young man in his underwear. I don't know what I was expecting; not like he was gonna sleep with his cowboy boots on. The white boxer briefs he was wearing showed off a very nice butt. I started to feel like a perv for checking him out, so I cleared my throat to let him know I was in the room, and walked to the couch to hand him the blanket and pillow I was holding.

    "Thank you," he said politely. He was obviously very well-mannered. 

    "Can I get you some water?" I offered.

    "That would be great, thanks."

    I got us two glasses of water from the kitchen and walked back to him. This time I found him sitting on the couch. Since the armchair I usually sat on had the blanket and pillow on it, I went to sit next to the man on the couch.

    "Eli seems like a great guy," the guy broke the awkward silence between us.

    "Yes, he is," I agreed. I knew I should just head up to my room, but for some reason, I didn't want to leave the stranger just yet.

    Another short moment of silence, and this time it was my turn to break the ice.

    "He seemed to really be into you, at the bar," I said, then laughed. "I thought he was inviting you over to spend the night in his room."

    "He did. I just… don't really feel comfortable sleeping with someone so drunk."

    For some reason, I hadn't expected to hear that.

    "That's… thoughtful of you," I said, patting his leg with my hand two times as if to say "good man."

    "Don't get me wrong, Eli's great. Any other night…" the stranger smiled, and cut himself off. Guess he wasn't sure just how openly he could talk in front of me about my own son.

    Looking down, I noticed my hand was still on the man's thigh. He didn't seem to pull away. And he was a big boy, able to defend himself. Something about him gave me  the impression he'd served in the military.

    My hand continued to creep up the man's thigh inch by inch. A few seconds into it, and we both knew where I was going.

    Suddenly, the man moved to get off the couch. For a split second I felt awful: was I misreading the situation? That is, until I realized the man was actually going down on his knees in front of me.

    With his hands on my knees, he looked at me obediently from that position. He looked like a soldier awaiting command.

    "Go ahead, boy," I said quietly.

    Eagerly, the man unbuttoned my pants and took out my cock. I wasn't hard, not yet. He seemed to take it as a challenge. He took my cock in one hand and my balls in the other, massaging them, before going down and taking my dick in his mouth, kissing it before burying his nose in my pubes.

    "Ahhh!" I exhaled and kicked back, sitting back on the couch. I hadn't expected this tonight. It was my son's birthday, and I was the one getting a present.

    I lay that way with my eyes closed until the stranger got me all the way hard, and continued to play with my balls while sucking my cock. He was good; he took things slowly, yet had a very firm grip of things. My eyes were closed and my head tilted back, my hand occasionally going to the back of his head to give it an encouraging rub; again, as if to say "good boy."

    I continued to grunt and moan out louder and louder. He was a good cocksucker. I couldn't hold it in; besides, my son was firmly passed out in bed. At least that's what I thought.

    After about ten minutes of the amazing blowjob, I heard the floor creak and realized there was someone else in the room. I opened my eyes quickly and stirred, only to see my son standing at the door.

    "Go ahead," Eli said. "Don't let me stop you."

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