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Subject: Closer than Ever, Chapter 7 Closer than Ever by RJ This story is about the love been a father and his son and contains sexual activity between the two of them. If such themes offend you, do not read. If you have any questions or comments about this piece, want to know about any of my other works, or just want to reach out, please don’t hesitate to email me. A list of my works, including links and descriptions, can be found here: https://bit.ly/2S5IYDI If you would like to be added to a mailing list to receive emails when my stories are updated, let me know which stories (if not all) you would like to receive emails for. Please also consider donating to Nifty if you fty/donate.html ~ Chapter 7 (Son’s POV) ~ I think Dad likes to pretend that he’s not upset. I’m sure he feels somewhat lighter since he doesn’t have to feel THAT guilty about what we’re doing anymore, but I know my dad misses Max. That’ll take time. I believe him when he says he’ll be fine, but I still feel bad for him. Plus, wasn’t I the one who kept pushing him to maintain that relationship? I really thought Max was best for him. Guess we both screwed that up. But in terms of us… Now that we’re solely focused on each other, I’m convinced things couldn’t be better. No reservations. Complete openness. And with summer just around the corner, I’m anticipating the copious amounts of time we’ll get to spend together. The plan is to stay with him during my internship at the hospital (and possibly get my license over the summer), and I can’t fucking wait. I just want these last two weeks of school to end already. Just the thought of sharing a bed with Dad every night is enough for me to be shaking with excitement. School proves to be difficult though. It seems like every single teacher wants to tack on a last-minute project before the semester ends. Since Brett and I share a few classes, we plan to do a lot of it together — mostly focusing on our uninspired book reports concerning “Crime I break the kiss and turn my head to the side, trying not to breathe heavily. I hear Brett clear his throat and, out of the corner of my eye, I see him still looking at me. “Sorry.” “Um…” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “What was that?” I say with a nervous laugh. “I just…” he says, rubbing his forehead. He’s laughing too, but he looks embarrassed rather than playful. Talking about hooking up is one thing. But was he trying to initiate something? I mean, why else would he kiss me? Totally out of left field, too? But then he says “Just pretend that didn’t happen” while fidgeting with his sweatpants. “But–” “Please?” he asks, and the nervous laughter is gone, replaced by a uncharacteristically small, pleading sort of voice. Then he glances at me for just a split second before lying right back down and pressing “resume” on the botched surgery show. I’m still frozen. And confused, mostly. I think that’s the most prominent emotion right now, if that counts as an emotion. Brett just kissed me, for Christ’s sake. And I didn’t even see it coming. Clearly it was an impulse or something — I mean, he looked like he regretted it instantly. But what drove him to do that in the first place? Fuck. My heart feels weird. Maybe now I know how Dad felt when I first expressed interest in him. Total fucking confusion. For the next few days, I mull over that kiss. I see Brett at school, and we even hang out after school, but I can’t stop wondering what it was about. I’ve decided it was probably just supposed to be a fun little kiss, something we would laugh over afterwards, but considering how embarrassed he seemed, I doubt that’s it. I want to ask him, but he seems to either have forgotten it or completely gotten over it. There’s no weird energy coming from him anymore. But I’m happy when Tuesday comes around because I finally get to see Dad in person — which means I can talk to someone about it. And though I’m unsure of how he’ll react, I know he’ll give me sound advice. He shows up late afternoon while Brett and I are chatting in the living room. I already told Brett I have dinner plans with my dad, but it seems Dad showed up a little earlier than expected. Dad smiles when he waltzes in, eyes going right to me. “Hey you.” “Hey, Dad,” I say, eyeing him up and down as I usually do. Thankfully Brett makes his presence known quickly so that Dad knows not to say anything incriminating. “Hey, Mr. Henderson.” “Brett!” he says with a happy laugh. “How’s it going, buddy?” Dad comes into the living room as Brett stands up and they do one of those bro-like handshakes. “Good,” he says, smiling. “Just excited for school to be over.” “Jo told me you’re going to Peru,” he says, smiling. “That’s awesome.” “Yeah, I’m stoked,” he says. “It’s a long trip,” he adds, glancing at me, “but it’ll be fun, hopefully.” “Definitely,” my dad says, correcting him. Then he makes a suggestion. “Hey, why don’t you come out to dinner with us?” Brett laughs. “I’d love to, but I told my mom I’d be home soon.” “Oh, come on,” my dad says playfully. “She’ll be fine for a few hours.” Truthfully, I don’t mind if he comes out with us. I know he misses hanging out around my dad because, in a way, I’m sure he wishes he was his actual father. But I’m eager to talk things over with my dad. Maybe after dinner, then. “It’ll be fun,” I say. Brett looks at me and smiles before shrugging. Guess it didn’t take much convincing. “I guess.” My dad and I make a big scene out of it, cheering happily and making Brett blush and laugh. Dinner goes really well. Dad and I didn’t have any fancy plans anyway — we were just going to go out for tacos, so Brett fits right in with the two of us. It’s nice to hang out with my two of absolute favorite people, where I feel safe to just be unapologetically myself. But it’s also strange. I guess because I spend a little more time observing Brett while he talks, imagining all the what-ifs he mentioned. His kiss really threw me for a fucking loop, and now, even his features look different to me. More… appealing? His dirty blond hair that’s always an adorable mess. His thick eyebrows hovering over his almost-permanently half-lidded eyes (which are the calmest shade of blue). And those lips that he kissed me with, shapely and a little plump, with a bit of facial hair dusting his features. He’s a looker. And it doesn’t help that he’s so sweet. Honestly, he’s a lot like my dad. Eerily so. They have different mannerisms and interests and personalities, but at the core, with how they make me feel when I’m around them, they’re the same. What’s not to like? Even my dad shows his appreciation halfway through our meals. “Thanks for taking care of my boy when I wasn’t there,” he says, and I blush and hit him in order to stave off the embarrassment of Brett helping me with my nightmares before I started smoking. But he’s dead serious. “It might not seem like a huge deal, but it means a lot to me.” Brett, ever polite, says he’s happy to help, but with that look he gives me, I know he means it. I think it’s that tiny, miniscule moment where I realize I’m the luckiest fucking kid in the world, if just for the simple fact that I am loved so deeply and earnestly. By both of them. When we get back to the house, I make them both dig in to some leftover cake I made with my mom before Brett takes his leave. He hugs me goodbye first and then turns to my dad. “Thanks for dinner, Mr. Henderson,” he says, offering his hand. “Any time, buddy, any time,” my dad says amicably, pulling him in and giving him a quick hug. He smiles at both of us before showing himself out, and Dad sits back down next to me on the couch with a sigh. “You seemed to enjoy dinner,” I say with a slight grin, slinging a leg casually over his lap. He holds onto it gently with one hand. “I forgot how much I like that kid,” he says. Then he grins. “You should aspire to be more like him.” “Fuck you,” I say with a laugh, hitting his chest. He grabs my hand before I can pull it away and then tugs me closer to him. Almost fully onto his lap. “Mmm, c’mere,” he says in that sexy low voice of his. Somehow our lips find each other’s, and I almost let myself melt into the soft kiss. But I pull back. “Wait,” I say, laughing slightly and licking my lips. “I actually wanted to talk to you.” “Yeah?” he asks, looking curious. “About…?” “Brett.” “What about him?” “He… Well, over the weekend, we were working on homework and stuff, talking, whatever… And in the middle of it, he… He kissed me.” I anticipated more curiosity, maybe jealousy, or some sort of disapproval. What I didn’t expect is my dad to look so excited. “Really?” I’m surprised. “You’re not mad?” He laughs. “Why would I be mad?” he asks, before gripping my leg a little more. “So… what does that mean?” His tone makes it feel more like he’s a friend asking about someone who may or may not be interested in me, rather than someone I’m involved disapproving of a third-party charging in on his territory. So I feel like I can talk more freely. “Nothing,” I say. “He didn’t want to talk about it and we haven’t talked about it since.” Dad looks confused. “Do you think he has feelings for you or something?” I shrug. “I don’t know. He’s only ever liked girls.” “Hm.” He thinks for a moment. “Well, do you like him?” he asks. What a question. Do I like Brett? I feel like I’m in similar territory with my feelings concerning my father. I’m so close with both of them that it’s hard to separate certain emotions. “I don’t know,” I say. “I’m just… confused.” I guess one way to think about it is, would I take it to the next level with Brett if he asked? Would I refuse him? Prior to the kiss, I would have said no. But after thinking about it so often for the past few days… “I mean, you guys have been so close for so long,” Dad says, giving my leg a little squeeze. “Things happen sometimes.” “Like with you and me?” I ask. He smiles. “Yeah, like with you and me.” I nod a bit. “I just wonder if it’ll happen again,” I say, thinking out loud. Then I look up at him. “Did you get a vibe? That he likes me or something?” “I mean… not necessarily,” he says, scratching his head. “But you guys have always had undeniable chemistry. Nothing seemed that different tonight. At least, not to me.” “Nothing felt different before he kissed me either, though,” I say. “I just don’t understand where it came from. Or what he’s thinking.” “You know what that means?” Dad asks. I peer up at him. “What?” “You guys have to talk.” “Ugh,” https://www.izmitescortlarim.com/” title=”escort kocaeli”>escort kocaeli I say, groaning. I hate that he’s right, but we do need to talk. “That’s a conversation that could ruin a friendship.” “I don’t know,” Dad says. “You have to consider the fact that things might have changed already for him.” I wonder if that’s true. Wouldn’t it be more obvious if Brett suddenly developed feelings for me? Or is he just really good at hiding them? Or is it that I’ve been so focused on Dad that I simply just didn’t notice? Or is it that, in fact, he doesn’t actually have any feelings for me at all and I’m reading into nothing for no reason? Damn, we really DO need to talk… “But I don’t think you guys will fall apart over this.” Hearing that makes me feel a little better. The more I think about it, it was just a kiss… All things considered, not that risky. As I look up at my dad, I think about how big of a risk THAT was. And look at us now… “I’ll talk to him,” I say. He smiles. “Good.” Then he checks his watch before sighing. “I should get going.” “Already?” I say, sounding whinier than I intended to sound. “I have an early morning, kiddo,” he says, starting to shift my leg off him so that he can get up. But I don’t let him get up. I shift onto his lap even more. “Mmf– Jo…” “Stay,” I say softly, grinding against him slightly. I need him to stay. I’ve been horny thinking about him all day, and I need relief. I feel his hands at my hips, hesitating to grip too hard. “But your mom–” “Won’t be home for hours,” I say, and I lean in to kiss him, smiling slightly when he starts kissing me back. So much for his early morning. I slide my hands down his torso to his belt and slowly start to undo it. He grunts slightly as I undo the fastener. “What are you doing?” “What do you think I’m doing?” I open his belt and then undo the button and his fly. He lets me reach into the warmth of his crotch to grip his cock. I watch his eyes roll slightly and his head lean back as I take a hold of him, biting my lip as I bring him to hardness. Once I pull his manhood out into the open air, I start to slide off his lap, clearly about to get to my knees. That’s when he speaks up again. “I didn’t shower today,” he says. “Stop making excuses,” I tell him, kneeling on the floor right between his legs. I spread them a bit to give me more room. “I’m not making excu– Hnnng,” he grunts as soon as my lips wrap around his cock. I’d smile if I wasn’t so busy right now. I take it slow at first, focusing on the top half of his member and giving it a deep massage with my lips and tongue. He’s right. He didn’t shower. But I’m not at all put off by that lightly musky scent. In fact, it turns me on a bit. It makes me want to taste the rest of his body along with it. But, first things first… I glance up at him as I take him a little deeper, and he moans softly, spreading his legs even more for me. I pull off, swallowing the saliva that had accumulated in my mouth before lapping at his cock with long strides of my tongue. I kiss my way down towards the base before reaching into his pants to pull out his balls. I hold that heavy sack in my palm before lifting it to my mouth. Dad immediately grasps his cock as I lick and kiss his balls — somewhat in appreciation. Maybe this is my way of saying “Thanks for making me, Dad.” The thought makes me laugh out loud slightly. “What?” he asks. “Nothing,” I say, taking one of his nuts into my mouth. He groans a bit as I suck softly, letting my tongue work him over. I want every bit of his crotch coated in my spit. I give his left nut the same treatment, sucking slowly before letting it out of my mouth with a wet little “Pop!” noise. When I look up at him, he’s just grinning softly at me, casually stroking himself. “Hi,” I say, chuckling softly as I lean forward to kiss the tip of his cock. “Hi,” he says back, laughing slightly before he runs his fingers through my hair. His hand slides over to my cheek, cupping my face lightly, and I rest it in his palm for a moment. “Wanna come upstairs?” I ask him. “Don’t ask stupid questions, boy,” he says, patting my cheek. I slap his hand away and he laughs, watching me stand up. “This isn’t your house anymore, y’know,” I say, grinning and offering my hand. “I could kick you out for being rude.” “Kick me out, then,” he says, letting me help him to his feet. He stands up, towering over me and keeping a hand on the small of my back so that I’m pressed up against him. I can feel his cock nudging against my stomach and I lick my lips a bit. “See what good that does you.” There’s something so sexily cocky about his banter that I just want to drop to my knees again. But it’d be more fun to be in my bed, possibly naked, so I practice a little restraint. I just tell him to shut up and I reach down, grasping his cock and heading towards the stairs. It’s like I’m leading him by his dick, and he laughs slightly, still rock-hard in my grip as we go up the stairs and veer into my bedroom. I push him in first and then shut the door, leaning against it as I look at him. “Get on the bed,” I tell him. He arches his eyebrow but laughs. “Yes sir,” he says, about to climb on. But I stop him. “Take your clothes off first.” He gives me another amused but challenging look. “Come here and do it for me.” I try not to smile and jump too eagerly at the command, but I step over to him, helping him out of his shirt first. “Telling me what to do,” he mutters, and I laugh. “I raised you better than this.” “I think I’m hitting that rebellious teenager phase or something,” I joke, squatting down to help him out of his pants and underwear. “I had really hoped you would’ve sidestepped that phase,” he says with a chuckle, watching me as I pull his jeans and boxers off from around his ankles. I handle his socks too, tossing them all on the floor until he’s completely bare. I stand up in front of him, ogling his body before he grabs hold of my chin and tilts my face up towards his in order to kiss me. I moan slightly, feeling his other hand roam under my shirt and against my back. Feeling his hand on my skin… I need more of that. I step back to take my shirt off before dealing with my pants, letting him watch me strip. I go all the way too, completely undressing and letting him see how hard I’ve been this whole time. “Damn, boy,” he says, giving my cock a little tug. “My turn to take care of you.” That’s all I needed to hear. I smile as he maneuvers me onto my bed and has me get on my back, and I feel my heart race a little more as he climbs over me. His strong frame looms over me as he leans down and kisses my lips. And then, he starts making his way down. He keeps it quick, though, just kissing down my center in a straight line and opening my legs when he gets closer to my crotch. Using only his mouth, he takes me in, and I whimper slightly at how good he’s making me feel. His tongue works slowly, hitting my most sensitive areas, and he bobs up and down at a generous speed. I can’t resist putting my hand on the back of his head and gripping his hair, urging him to take me deeper. He does, too, without complaint. I close my eyes when I feel him take me into his velvety throat, my toes curling. He has to hold my legs down so that I don’t squirm so much. When he slides back up slowly, just focusing on the head a bit, I take a breather. “Can I make a request?” He looks up at me before pulling off my cock and grinning. “So now I’m taking requests?” “Pleeease?” I say, smiling. He grips my dick, stroking it lazily as he grins. “Fine. What’s your request?” “Can you rim me?” “That’s it?” he asks. I laugh. “What do you mean ‘that’s it’?” He shrugs. “I thought you were going to ask something a little crazier,” he says. “But a rimjob… That I can do.” He grins, moving his hands to the back of my thighs and then lifting them. I gasp in surprise at the speed of his movements, sitting back almost on my neck as he holds me up. Then, I feel his lips just faintly brushing against my hole. He’s teasing me, the fucking bastard. Especially since his light facial hair seems to heighten my sensitivity. I try not to whine a bit, or beg, but I need him to just– And then finally, I feel his tongue. I let out a loud, surprised moan, followed by a small laugh. Fuck, that’s good. I feel my eyebrows go as high as they possibly can while my hole is so lovingly assaulted by that strong, sure muscle of his. He’s looking down at me too while he’s doing it, but I can’t look at him. It’s too embarrassing or something… I’m not sure. Maybe because I’m practically beside myself with pleasure, both relaxed and on-edge, vigorously stroking myself once his tongue eases its way into me. The thing is, every time I convince myself that what Dad and I are doing isn’t romantic, something throws me. I don’t know why it’s this moment, but I feel that little spark of emotion again. Maybe it’s the way he’s gripping me: keeping me secure, holding onto me tight while he gives me what I wanted. Maybe it’s the insistently intimate way his tongue and mouth is working. It’s probably the eye contact, though. I will myself to look up at him and we lock eyes for who knows how long. It’s a powerful moment. I’m sure he can feel everything that I’m feeling: the love, the trust, the desire… He pulls away from my hole and sets me down as he crawls over me again, kissing me hard and deep. I find my legs lifting around his hips as an automatic response, my arms flinging themselves around him to keep him close. I love you, Dad. I love you so much. Which is why… “I want you to fuck me,” I say after breaking the kiss. He’s panting slightly, and my words don’t register in his head for a moment. Then he just looks confused. “What?” “Don’t make me say it again,” I say with a nervous laugh. “Sorry,” he says, shaking his head to clear his thoughts and then laughing a little. “I just… I’m surprised, is all.” “Do you want to…?” I ask, even though I know the answer. I know he wants to fuck me. I know he’s been thinking about it for a long time. Maybe even fantasizing about it when he’s alone at night. But he’s ridiculously patient with me. Not once has he brought it up or tried anything sneaky since I told him I wasn’t ready. More than anything, I think I was just afraid of the pain. Hell, I’m still nervous about that prospect — I’m practically shaking. But I’ve been preparing somewhat for this. He doesn’t know that I discreetly bought myself a toy to help get me used to the sensation (thank God for https://www.izmitescortlarim.com/escort/kocaeli-anal-yapan-escort-bayan” title=”kocaeli anal yapan escort”>kocaeli anal yapan escort prepaid gift cards). To see if I’d even like it, really. It’s been a couple weeks now, and whether or not I’m actually ready for the real thing, this moment feels right to me. I just have to jump in. “I mean… Yeah,” he says, laughing breathily. “But I–” “I want you to,” I say, holding onto him still. He stares at me for a long moment. “We don’t have any lube or anything–” “I do,” I say, pushing up on his shoulders. He lifts himself enough for me to get out from underneath him so I can reach into my nightstand and grab my little bottle of lube. The toy is in there, too, but I don’t want him to see that just yet. When I pass him the lube, he smirks a bit, studying the bottle. “Where’d you get this?” “Stop ‘N Shop is a wonderful place,” I say with a laugh before lying back down and rubbing his thigh gently. He looks at me curiously. “You sure about this?” “Positive,” I say definitively. This is the final frontier after all, isn’t it? I’ve fucked him a few times since that first time, but this… This is really what we’ve both been waiting for, isn’t it? As his response, he leans down and kisses me — this time keeping it slow and deep. I breathe him in while we kiss, getting high off his scent and the anticipation of what we’re about to do. How we’re about to connect. I’m so many emotions that I can hardly sift through them all, but the one I feel most strongly is joy. Absolute joy. He breaks the kiss for a moment to pop the cap on the lube and squirt some onto his fingers. As he resumes the kiss, he reaches between my legs and his fingers go right for my hole. I moan against his lips in surprise from how cold the liquid always seems to feel, but his gentle motions quickly warm me up. He adds a little pressure, but before he slips a single finger in, I shift around onto my stomach and lift my ass a bit. I swear I hear him chuckle, but he doesn’t say anything — just merely goes right back where he left off. I feel his middle finger teasing me before he pushes forward and sinks it right in. I gasp a bit at the intrusion, my mouth hanging open slightly. His finger feels completely different from mine. Maybe because I don’t have control over what he’s doing — like when he adds a second finger. But I take it pretty well. Part of me wonders if he’s impressed, but his dick is bigger than just two fingers. If I can handle that, that would be impressive. I sense him leaning over me, and I bite my lip when he kisses the center of my back, moving his way closer to my neck. “How do you want to do this?” he asks me softly. “Like this,” I say. Doggy style. Classic. “You sure?” he asks, his fingers still working back and forth slowly. “It’d be easier on your back.” “I’m fine,” I tell him. I’ve fantasized about this position specifically for so long that I don’t see any other option. Plus, what’s the difference if it’s on my back or not? It’ll still feel the same, right? This is better, anyway. In this position, he can’t see my face. He kisses my back again before sitting up straight behind me. I swallow thickly as I listen to him lube up his cock, those squishy wet noises practically echoing throughout the room. He even adds a little bit more to my hole and rubs it around with his thumb. Then, he positions himself behind me, taking hold of my hips and pulling me right against his groin. I gasp slightly. This is happening. This is finally happening. I need to relax. Relax. It’s Dad. You’ll be fine under his care. “Just breathe, okay?” I hear him say, and I nod as I feel him rub the head of his cock against my entrance and then push forward. This time, there’s not much resistance, and the head more or less slides into me. Then, he pushes in another inch. Oh wow. I stare at the pillow, my body subconsciously wanting to pull away from him, but he keeps me in place. “Breathe, Jo,” he reminds me. Right. Breathe. I haven’t been doing that. I inhale and exhale slowly, and on the exhale, he eases more of himself in. I gasp a bit, gripping the sheets. “Ah!” I grunt, tensing my whole body. “Go slower!” “Sorry,” he says, rubbing my back gently. “But you gotta relax.” “I’m trying,” I say, a little more snappily than I intended. He just chuckles, though. “Don’t make fun of me.” “I’m not making fun of you,” he says, leaning over to give my neck a soft kiss. “Can you handle more?” “There’s more?” I whine, and he laughs. God, I feel so full already. Stretched to max capacity, it seems like. But he has more dick? Great. “We can stop if you want.” “No,” I say, taking a breath and willing myself to relax. “I just need a minute.” He snorts. “We should have had a safe word.” I can’t help but laugh, and it almost hurts to laugh because my hole clamps on his dick slightly. Fuck. Relax, Jo. Accept him. I breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, arching my back a bit. Would the arch help? Or should we just try a totally different position? “Can we change positions?” “Um… Yeah,” he says. He slowly pulls out of me (which is the strangest sensation thus far) and I feel a weird mix of relief and emptiness. I take another breath before shifting onto my back. Guess I’ll have to let him see my face. He grins a bit, helping me into position. “Taking my advice, huh?” “Just shut up and fuck me,” I mutter, and he chuckles before guiding my legs around him. He reaches between us to grab a hold of himself, and when he targets precisely, he pushes back into me with one long, slow, smooth stride. My mouth opens a little wider the deeper he gets, but I’m taking it much better. “Wow, this is way easier,” I tell him when he’s about halfway in. “I told you,” he says, pausing there and then pulling back slowly. I moan a bit on the pull-back, getting weird tingles all over my body before he thrusts back forward. He does this over and over, keeping it slow and letting me get used to the sensation. And it’s… incredible, to say the least. It hurts, but not nearly as bad as when I was ass-down-face-up. And there’s some sense of pleasure there, and not just physical. I’m letting him inside of my body. I’m giving him pleasure, too. It’s indescribable, really. Then he pushes in even deeper, and I inhale so sharply I almost choke. I grip his arms tightly, digging my fingertips into his skin. That sudden sense of pleasure was so blinding and shocking that for a moment I forgot who I was. “Oh my god,” I groan. He grins. “Feel that?” “Kinda hard not to,” I murmur, panting slightly. He must have hit my prostate. Does it really feel THAT good? I would have never thought. I whimper when he pushes forward again to the same depth, and I close my eyes, just letting him take over. He sits up on his heels a bit and grabs hold of my calves in order to lift and open my legs more. It feels strangely demoralizing, but, at the same time… sexy. I watch his face as he stares down at his dick slowly sliding in and out of me. He keeps daring to push in a little more, and each time I think “That’s it, he can’t possibly get any deeper”, he surprises me. And then… I feel him sink fully into me. I feel his balls push up against me as he grinds, and I immediately start crying. But they’re happy tears. I feel a few running down my cheek as I look up at him, and when his eyes glance up towards my face, he stops. “You okay?” I nod. “Yeah,” I say softly, smiling. He smiles back gently, reaching up to wipe the tears with his thumb before leaning down to kiss me. “I love you,” he says against my lips. I laugh softly. “I love you, too.” He kisses me again and starts moving his hips in steady motions, giving me slightly longer strides while maintaining almost full-body contact. This is the closest I’ve ever felt to him. Ever. Right here. I don’t think we could physically get any closer, nor emotionally. This is the absolute peak. Fucking Everest, if Everest were warm and cozy and freeing. As we keep kissing, Dad moves one of his hands between us to wrap his fingers around my cock. Immediately, my whole body twitches, and I grab his arm. “Stop,” I say in a shaky voice. “What?” “I’ll cum.” He grins a bit. “So cum.” He doesn’t stop moving his hips, and he keeps a firm grip on my hard-on. Funny how I had completely forgotten I had a penis for however long we’ve been at it, and now that he’s reminded me of that fact, a whole other sense of pleasure has come to me. But it brought me practically to the edge. If he moves his hand just an inch, I’m sure I’ll– “Nnng– Fuck!” I grunt when he starts stroking me. I hold onto him more tightly than I’ve held onto anything in my entire life as the most intense orgasm washes over me. “Electrifies” might be a more accurate word. I feel it in my cock and in my ass and the sensation branches out to my extremities like little lightning bolts. I swear I black out for a moment, because when I come to, Dad’s just smiling down at me softly. I try my best to relax my whole body (catalyzed by sheer exhaustion), and I pant and feel my weight sink into the mattress. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Dad laughs heartily, leaning over to kiss my forehead. “You did good, kid.” “Thanks,” I say lazily with a little laugh. Then I glance down. “Did you–?” “Yeah,” he says, biting his lip. I laugh through a short exhale. “I didn’t even notice.” “Yeah, you seemed a little busy,” he teases before sitting up on his heels again. He grabs the back of my thighs and pushes back a bit so he can watch himself slowly pull his cock out of me. It’s almost turning me on again, that sensation, but I need a break. I’m fucking beat. When the head finally pops out, I can feel his cum spilling out of me. Fuck, he must have shot a huge load. He arches his eyebrow a bit before playing with it for a minute, guiding some of his cum right back into my hole with his thumb and making me whimper. I imagine it’s thick, perfectly white, running down my hole that’s red and sore from a fresh fuck. It must be a pretty sight, at least. He seems so fascinated by it. Then he sets me down, smiles, and then lies next to me on his back with a heavy sigh. “Damn.” I look over at him, smiling a bit. “You’re welcome,” I tease. He laughs, hitting my leg playfully with the back of his hand before he looks at me. “How was that for you first time?” “Insane,” I say, not really thinking of any other word. I roll onto my side to face him, stroking his shoulder with my fingertips. “Still happy it was you.” “Yeah?” https://www.izmitescortlarim.com/escort/izmit-yabanci-escort” title=”izmit yabancı escort”>izmit yabancı escort “I don’t think I could trust anyone else.” “Not even Brett?” I can tell he’s just joking. “So you ARE mad?” I say with a laugh. “Nah,” he says, lifting his arm so that I can cuddle up with him. “Honestly, when you said he kissed you I was a little… thrilled, I guess.” “Thrilled?” “Yeah. I was kind of hoping something was gonna come from it.” “But… What about us?” “What about us?” he asks, not understanding the question. “Wouldn’t that mean the end of… this?” I know he’s not going to want a repeat of Max, for either of us. We haven’t exactly talked about what happens if one of us meets someone new, but I have a feeling he was right since the beginning: we can’t juggle both. “In a sense, yeah, probably,” he says softly, pulling me a little closer. “But I don’t want this to hold you back from… experiencing other people. I mean, the world isn’t just full of Mark Hendersons.” I snort a bit. If only… “If anything should come from this… thing between us, I want it to at least serve as an example of how someone should treat you. And love you.” I smile slightly. I think I get what he’s saying. If we’re continuing with this, it’s not necessarily meant to be permanent. He always tells me that I’m still young. That I still have “so much life to live.” So much of myself and the world to explore. “I already know how someone should treat me. You taught me that way before all of this, Dad,” I say, nuzzling into him a bit. “Well…” he starts to say, but then he just sighs. I can feel him smile. I sense it. I don’t have to look at him. He just kisses the top of my head and rubs my back with a soothing motion. I don’t know how long we lie in bed talking, but soon, we hear a noise downstairs. There’s the distinct sound of keys and heels. Which means Mom’s home. Dad sits up and swears under his breath. “I thought you said a couple of hours,” he says, hopping off the bed to look for his clothes. “I never said how many,” I say, trying not to laugh. He checks his watch and swears again. “Jesus,” he says, quickly grabbing his underwear and pulling it on. Just then, my mom’s voice comes from downstairs. “Mark?! Are you here?!” “Yeah!” he calls back, wincing as he pulls on his jeans. “Slow down before you pull a muscle,” I tease. He just flips me off before pulling on his shirt and then coming over to the bed as he zips up his fly. “Smartass,” he says, leaning over to kiss me. I just smile and kiss him back sweetly. “Get dressed. Love you.” “Love you too,” I say as he grabs his socks and heads out the door. “Drive safe.” “Yeah, yeah,” he says, hitting me with a radiant smile before disappearing around the corner. I’m still sad Brett is leaving for Peru for an entire month, but I’m happy for him. Each day over the past week, he’s been getting increasingly more excited to travel. He’s never even been on a plane before, so there are lots of firsts on this trip for him. And besides, we’ll reunite when he gets back. It’s only four or so weeks. And then we have our road trip to look forward to. It’s the day before he leaves, and (unsurprisingly), he leaves packing for the last minute. I offer to help — I even have to teach him the proper tricks when it comes to packing clothes and traveling as a minimalist. “Are you really going to need this?” I ask, holding up a big bottle of body wash that he had tossed into his suitcase. “Um… yeah,” he says. I roll my eyes. “This is three months’ worth of body wash,” I say, setting it aside. “Just buy soap in Peru.” “Fine, fine,” he says, looking stressed. I laugh slightly. “Relax, will you? We’re almost done.” “I just don’t want to forget anything,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Well, that’s why I’m here,” I say, starting to roll up the last of his underwear in the space that giant bottle of body wash left. I glance at him as he bites his nails and looks around his room for any forgotten items. I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to bring up the kiss from two weeks ago, and this might be my only shot before he leaves. I guess it’s a matter of whether I want to wait until he gets back, or if I want to bring it up at all. Does it really matter? Am I making it a big deal for no reason if I bring it up? I think it’s fair if I do. Regardless of Brett’s intentions, the kiss changed me… I clear my throat a bit and decide the time is now. “Hey, so, can we talk real quick?” He turns his head to me. “What’s up?” “I just…” I stop, realizing I’m holding his underwear. I set it down and regather my thoughts. “I just want to know where we stand.” He snorts a little. “Where we stand?” he asks, amused. “Yeah. After the kiss.” His smile disappears. Now he looks uncomfortable. “Oh.” “I just want to know where your head’s at,” I say simply. “That’s all.” “I was kind of hoping you’d forgotten about it,” he says with a nervous grin. “I mean, you kissed me out of nowhere, Brett. Kind of hard to just forget about it.” And I’ve actively thought about it since. He sighs through his nose. “I don’t know, man,” he says. “It was a fleeting thing. I don’t want to make it weird.” “So you randomly had a fleeting impulse to kiss me, and then acted on it?” I ask skeptically. “What do you want me to say?” he says, looking at me hard. I’m just glad he doesn’t sound angry. Maybe the slightest bit frustrated, but not angry. “I just want you to be honest with me.” “It was just supposed to be a fun thing,” he says. “Do you hate me now or something?” “What?” I ask, surprised at the quick jump to that conclusion. “No. Why would you think that?” “I don’t know. I just felt like I made you super uncomfortable. You should’ve seen your face,” he says, gesturing vaguely to my head. “And… I don’t know, clearly you’re still feeling some type of way about this if you’re bringing it up now.” “I… No, I don’t hate you, Brett,” I say firmly. “I honestly don’t think I could hate you even if I tried.” He nods a bit, running his fingers through his hair. “Sorry.” “I’M sorry,” I say. “I only brought it up because…” I lick my lips as I look down. Should I tell him? Open the dialogue with a bit of my own truth? It’s something I’ve only come to terms with recently, and it’s really because of the kiss. Maybe this is the perfect time to bring it up. “Can I tell you something?” I ask him. He looks at me. “Sure.” I swallow, doing my best to maintain eye contact and sound strong. “I think I’m gay.” He looks surprised. Then skeptical. “Are you joking, or…?” “I’m serious,” I say. That’s all he needed to hear, because he seems to believe me after that. “Wow,” he says, looking me over. Is he seeing me differently? “Okay.” “That doesn’t bug you?” “I’ve told you before that it wouldn’t.” “Yeah, but saying it is one thing.” “Okay, sure,” he says, “but nothing’s changed for me.” I nod, looking down. That feels like somewhat of a relief to say it out loud. Because my thoughts have now extended beyond my father, ever since Brett kissed me. And it’s not just me thinking about Brett. Even in porn, I find myself looking at guys more often. Or if I’m out, instead of checking out the girls (which I never really did to begin with), I’ll check out men I suddenly find attractive. I’ll wonder what they look like underneath their clothes. How they are in bed. What it’d feel like to kiss them. It’s like his kiss sparked something in me. And it’s been happening so often that I can’t possibly kid myself and think I’m “straight except when I’m with my father.” It’s silly. Plus, if Dad wants me to inevitably explore, admitting the possibilities is the first step of that exploration. Do I even want to explore with Brett, though, if that’s an option? “Why do you think you’re gay?” he asks. I blink a bit, trying to figure out what he means exactly. “I don’t know. I’ve never really super been into girls,” I admit. “But you know that.” “Sure,” he says, shrugging. “And… I don’t know. Honestly, I think I overthought the kiss because I kept wondering, y’know, about other guys too.” I try my best to leave out the part about my dad, though. He grins. “So I turned you gay or something?” “Shut up,” I say, laughing, feeling the awkwardness between us totally dissipate. Now the energy between us feels right. Normal. “I’m just saying, it made me think about things. Reevaluate.” He nods a bit, smiling to himself before he looks at me with a slightly more serious expression. “Does that mean you reevaluated us?” I swallow. Be honest, Jo. “Well, of course. This is your fault,” I say with a tiny laugh. I wish he would stop nodding so much. It makes me nervous for some reason. “I don’t think I’m gay,” he says. “I don’t think you are either,” I echo, and I mean it. He’s obviously, at the very least, overwhelmingly straight. But it’s a scale. Not one or the other. “You’re still the only guy I’ve ever thought about,” he says. When I look at him, I notice he’s blushing slightly. “Really?” I ask, surprised. “You were serious about that?” He just nods a bit. “Of course I was.” “But… I thought you were just messing around.” “I mean, yeah, it’s easier to talk about your weird thoughts when you’re all light-hearted about it,” he says with a slight smile. “I don’t know. It’s crossed my mind more than once. And not really in a bad way. Get me?” There are so many similarities between us and me and my dad. Now I’m basically in my dad’s shoes, seeing how things sort of unfolded between us through his eyes — except with this, things are much softer. This is so strange. I feel like I’m understanding more and more about myself. “My dad said sometimes shit happens between people who have been so close for so long,” I tell him. Then I think about me and my dad and add “Boundaries can kind of… shift.” He glances at me. “Maybe that’s it, then,” he says, shrugging. “Yeah, maybe,” I say, looking at him curiously. I don’t know what to say now. I think we’ve taken this topic as far as we’d both want to go. I admitted what I had to admit, and I feel like I get Brett a little bit better now. Regardless, I’m just happy nothing feels different. That’s always my worst fear: ruining the most important relationships to me. And I want him to know that. “Well, if I get my license before you get back, I’m driving us to Niagara. So you have that to look forward to.” He looks at me and slowly smiles. “There’s no way I’m letting you behind the wheel of MY car,” he says with a grin. “Not even for a little bit?” “Fat chance, Jo,” he says, laughing. “I trust you, but not that much.” I just punch him in the arm playfully and he winces but chuckles, nudging me back. We smile at each other, and I think in that moment, there’s an understanding between us: we’re good. Nothing’s changed. Come what may.
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