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Subject: Naval Tradition Revised ch. 8 Naval Tradition REVISED EDITION Bill Drake (ail) with Corporal Cody NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction explicitly depicting sexual acts between men, including male relatives. If that offends or disturbs you, read no further. Thanks to all the great work that the Nifty Archive does and the writers it publishes. Please consider supporting them with a donation. This is the revised and retconned version of Naval Tradition, told in chronological order. While the overall story is the same, there is lot of new material here (and some of the old parts didn’t make the cut in this version). This revision has been a collaboration with fellow writer Corporal Cody. My thanks to him for his considerable contributions to and inspiration for this version. Feel free to drop a line if you enjoy it: ail. I hope to have an ebook version at the end of this, so you can let me know if you want to be on the mailing list for that. NAVAL TRADITION Bill Drake, with Corporal Cody PART TWO: COLLEGE YEARS Chapter Eight St. Louis suburbs, Labor Day Weekend, 2002 Weddings make me horny. Or at least that’s the only explanation I had for the crazy events that happened over the three days of that Labor Day weekend. 3 days, 3 different men I had sex with. None of it expected. We were all flying out to St. Louis for my brother Paul’s wedding. Megan was from there, and it was mostly her family and friends at the event. But the McGraths would all be there, along with Paul’s riding partner Ray and two of Paul’s best friends, Eric and Allen. Eric was the best man. Dad had just gotten back from his tour the week prior, so this would be my first time seeing him since he left back in January. My semester at UVA had already started, and I had a Thursday class so I couldn’t fly out until early Friday morning. It was midday before I landed in St. Louis. My eldest brother, John picked me up from the airport. Waiting in the terminal, he was looking a little haggard with his unkempt brown hair, wearing sunglasses indoors while sipping a hot cup of coffee. From the look of John that morning, I gathered that a few of the guys went out boozing the previous night. Being only a year apart, John and Paul were pretty close, despite having opposite personalities and life paths. It was similar to the way Matt and I had always felt closer growing up. He didn’t take off his sunglasses as I approached. We gave each other a quick, brotherly, one-armed hug. “Paul have another bachelor party?” I teased. My brother Paul had his bachelor party back in Norfolk with his high school friends and cop buddies. I had been invited to the steak dinner earlier in the evening, but afterward the guys hit the bars and, from what I gather, one of the city’s strip clubs. John didn’t attend, and I’m not sure he was invited, but it looked like he’d made up for it last night. John gave me a sneer. He grabbed my garment bag for me and threw it over his shoulder while I held on to the backpack I’d used as a small carry-on. “Is everyone here?” I asked as we made our way out. “Pretty much,” John said with his hungover scraggly voice. “Matt and Dad made it in last night. Kelly flies in this afternoon.” John was dating a new woman, Kelly. I don’t know if it was serious with her, but it seemed that John was feeling the pressure to bring a Plus-One guest. “Cool.” I looked over at my brother, his face pale in contrast to the sunglasses he had on. “You’re not gonna be too hungover for the rehearsal dinner are you?” I asked. “Fuck you, Jim,” John said playfully. The McGrath men had a rental house about a mile away from the wedding venue. Dad was waiting eagerly on the porch, hands in his pockets as we pulled up in the rental car. God, he looked great. Freshly tanned and physically fit for a man pushing 50, his deep brown hair had a little more silver along the sides. I noticed that he had gotten a fresh haircut – the top of his thick, straight hair still longer and parted neatly to one side. The sides and back were not shaved, but trimmed neatly close, letting his hair lay against his scalp while highlighting the growing grey at his temples. His usual Navy officer choice of style. He wore a light-cotton, plaid shirt over the bulky, rounded swells of his chest and shoulders. Dad usually got trimmer-cut shirts for his casual attire, and this one, like the others, had difficulty containing the mass of his arms. His jeans on the other hand, hid a little more of his trunk-like thighs as they were looser than his shirt. It was undeniable that I was attracted to my father, and his absence during deployment had made me that much more attracted to him. It was tough, because he was still Dad. Only Dad. And I felt the normal emotions I should feel in addition to the perved-out ones. It was the contrast between the two that made it tougher on me. I got out of the car and watched a smile form over his strong-jawed face as his grey eyes lit up. I walked up to the man and dropped my backpack off my shoulders as he opened his arms to me. I wrapped my arms around his thick neck as we clasped in a bear hug, my face fell in the crook of his neck as I felt my eyes dewy with emotion. Dad tightened his hold on me, his arms bulging around my back. It was like Dad didn’t want to let go either. “Missed you like hell, Slugger,” he said into my ear as he kissed my temple. I could feel the warm hardness of his body and smell his skin mingled with cologne through the thin cotton of his shirt. “Missed you, too, Dad,” I said, patting the strong lat muscles of his back. He was almost misty eyed himself as we broke our embrace. Eight months was a long time to be away from home and family, and Dad’s return was always a special time for the McGraths. I blushed and smiled as he held my face for a second before looking at John. “It’s so great having all of you boys together. A perfect homecoming.” Once inside and settled, Dad told us that Paul was busy doing last minute errands for the wedding. I got caught up with the details about Dad’s tour, Matt’s third year at Annapolis, and John’s new girlfriend. John made one more trip to the airport that afternoon to pick up his girlfriend, Kelly. I was the last one to come out of my room as Dad and Matt had already introduced themselves. She was a very pretty young woman with long brunette hair, pulled back into a ponytail. She was nice as well, giving me a hug before heading to her and John’s room to unpack. “How you doin’ Jim?” John asked, his mood picking up now that he was finally recovered from his hangover. “How’s school?” I’d started at UVA over a week ago, but the long weekend felt like my last send-off before college somehow. “All right. Though Dad won’t stop lecturing me about not partying too much,” I said, referring to our phone conversation a few weeks ago while he was in port on route back to Norfolk. Dad gave me an annoyed look but I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s the truth,” I laughed. “Have you picked a major yet?” Matt asked with that officer seriousness in his voice. “Baseball,” I said, with as much dumb-jock affectation as I could manage, finally making Matt chuckle. ***** “It’s OK if you wanna drink, Slugger,” Dad whispered at the rehearsal dinner and, before I could answer, shoved a frosty, open beer can into my hand. “Just be responsible now,” he intoned in a low voice. Then before I could say anything, added, “Last lecture: I promise.” The dinner was at Megan’s parents’ place, a big house with a large yard in the suburbs. It didn’t surprise me that the Connelly family was all really nice, just like Megan. The whole extended family, plus the wedding party and the McGraths were at the dinner, an informal affair with tin trays of catered barbecue pork and sides, and multiple coolers of beer cans on ice. I enjoyed the casual atmosphere, it felt like a nice, big family party more than anything, and given the lingering summery weather I was glad that I could wear shorts. It was great to have all of my brothers together. The formal toasts would be tomorrow, but the McGrath brothers had a beer together on the back porch deck and recounted stories of Paul’s high school dating exploits. Paul took the ribbing in good humor. “Get it all out of your system, fellas,” he laughed. “I don’t want any of this shit tomorrow.” He leaned back with a big smile. It was a trip to see him dressed like a suburban dad in his polo shirt and khaki shorts. John smirked. “Do your in-laws know you have a potty mouth?” Paul leaned back and grinned. “Bro, they love me,” he said with a teasing cockiness. As the groom, Paul had to go mingle. John had to make sure Kelly felt at ease. Which left Matt and me to reconnect as we watched Dad and Paul laugh with the future in-laws. “You think Dad will get remarried?” Matt asked at one point as we leaned back on the deck railing, watching Dad out in the yard talking to one of Megan’s aunts. “I guess,” I said as I shrugged. I had thought about it as an abstract possibility. But I hadn’t really faced the real possibility of that happening. Dad hadn’t so much as dated in the years since Mom passed away. “Maybe now that you’re at college, he’ll start dating. I worry about the man, sometimes,” my brother said. “I think he puts us before himself.” Matt had clearly inherited Dad’s earnest streak, and it was coming out more at the Academy. “Yeah, maybe.” I felt bad for not thinking more about what being a single parent must be like for my father. I guess I’d had my own issues to deal with as a teenager. It was soon time for dinner and we grabbed our paper plates, filled them up, and each found one of the fold-out chairs that were set up on the lawn. I ended up sitting next to Megan’s younger sister and cousin, both seniors in high school. We made small talk, and I asked them about their college plans. They answered my questions, but not without some coy glances from the cousin, who seemed shyly smitten with me. I did my best to carry a normal conversation and after a while made my excuses. I went back for seconds and got an iced tea to pace my drinking. I looked around the crowd, feeling a thrill and a sense of satisfaction when I figured out which of Megan’s friends was the gay one Paul had mentioned – Drew. It turns out he was in the wedding party. He had an outgoing personality, kind of a bro at first glance, but a little wittier and playful, too. Something about his vibe made me realize he was gay. And he was a hot fucker. Medium-short, gym-toned build, youthful looks that you could tell would grow into a more classically handsome appearance after 30. Great thick, hairy legs and an amazing ass that was somewhere between a bubble butt and a muscle ass. It filled out his preppy, pink shorts, and I could tell the guy did lots of squats and lunges at the gym, in addition to whatever his genetics had gifted him. I had heard of straight men being “ass guys,” and while I don’t think I was fixated on guys’ asses more than other parts of their bodies, a guy like Drew could make me take notice of a well-sculpted behind. Later, I did catch up with Megan. It was pretty much the only time we had to converse during what was surely a whirlwind weekend for her. Megan’s a selfless woman, the kind of woman who makes any conversation about you. But now she was eating up being the center of attention. Her big day was tomorrow, though, and that evening she was dressed more simply, wearing a pastel sundress, her wavy, medium-length, dyed-blonde hair not yet done up at the salon. “I’m so glad you could make it here, Jim,” she said, smiling and giving me a small hug, as if I’d done her the biggest personal favor ever. It was sincere, though. Megan was like that. “I wouldn’t miss it,” I said. “I’m so happy for Paul – he couldn’t have ended up with anyone better…. Are you ready to be Mrs. McGrath?” I asked. There were some women who keep their maiden name – I pictured John’s girlfriend Kelly as one – but not Megan. She smiled, and she just had the glow of someone about to get married. “Megan McGrath… Rolls off the tongue.” We talked about how many people would be at the wedding tomorrow and the Virgin Islands honeymoon they had planned. “Enough about me,” she finally said. “How’s life at college? School going well?” she asked. “Pretty good. I haven’t had time to get into trouble,” I joked. “Oh, Paul tells me you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.” Megan asked me about which classes I was taking, how I liked dorm life, the whole works. She was studying nursing but as a commuter student, and I got the sense she missed having the traditional, residential college life. I asked her to fill me in on her family, trying to keep straight which cousins were which. “You know,” she said. “I think the best part of this week is having you all come out and spend time with my family. Or for them to get to know you.” Megan wasn’t a bridezilla type, but she was clearly into the wedding pomp and tradition, so her admission moved me as much as any toast I heard that weekend. I didn’t really know anyone other than Megan and my family, though. After a lot of small talk and mingling, I found myself just enjoying some time alone on the back deck, leaning over the railing with my back to the party. Sunset came earlier in September, and by 8 o’clock it was getting dark out. As the outdoor lights came on and the bugs came out, folks started to drift back inside, but I was loving this last hurrah of summer outdoor weather. It would all be over soon and I’d be in the thick of college, midterms, then finals, meeting new friends, conditioning for spring, and just figuring myself out. I took a swig on my beer, my third, and could definitely feel a nice buzz starting. It was at that point that Drew came up to me, sidling fairly close to me along the wood railing. “How’s it going, Jim?” We’d only been introduced briefly at the start of the evening, but Drew was the kind of guy who was good with names. His appearance snapped me out of my reverie. “Pretty good,” I replied. Up close, this guy was very attractive. Dimples on his face, and even in the harsh outdoor light, his complexion was a nice shade of tan from his summer vacation. He stood about five to six inches shorter than me, and I could make out the lean muscle underneath his untucked, slim-cut white shirt. He took a sip from a plastic cup and smirked at me. “You know… Megan’s really lousy at keeping secrets.” It took me a second, but I realized what he was getting at. Paul of course had told Megan I was gay, who told Drew. “Oh,” I said, a little dejected. “Don’t worry, Jim,” the guy said. “I’m not a blabbermouth.” “Thanks,” I said. I couldn’t fault Paul for telling his fiancée, but I wasn’t crazy about the world knowing. I sure as hell didn’t want Dad finding out from some random gossip at the wedding. Drew looked on at me, his brown eyes fixing me more intently. They had a haunting hangdog expression. I wouldn’t say that he was drunk, but he was definitely buzzed like me. “You’re Hot. As. Fuck. You know?” şişli travesti his quiet tenor voice emphasizing each word. Normally, my guard would be up more, even for a guy so directly hitting on me like Drew was. But there’s something about a wedding, seeing all the couples around you and feeling a warm relaxed vibe, that made me flirt back. “You’re pretty hot yourself,” I said equally quietly. That made his lip curl into a gentle smile. And then I felt it. His hairy shin rubbed against my own. The physical contact sent a jolt of excitement that went right to my dick. I couldn’t stop it, my prick boned up right there. I shifted my leg toward him, maximizing the contact and sending the signal back to him. Drew had great legs, with thick, knotted calf muscles. He checked around. There were only a couple of people outside now, and they were absorbed in their conversation. My brothers and father were nowhere in sight. Drew leaned in, his mouth an inch from my ear. “I know a place we can go,” he whispered. I blushed. I was getting horny for sure, the result of my sexual withdrawal lately. I’d gone from having full run of a usually empty house to sharing a small room with my dormmate. My masturbation was less frequent and usually rushed. Still, my cautious impulse kicked in. “I don’t know, man,” I said. He patted me on my back, giving a gentle rub that only contributed to my erection. “Come on, man,” he encouraged. “No one will notice. I know you wanna.” His collegiate voice was gaining a husky edge. Fuck it, I decided. I was turned on and I wanted this. “All right,” I agreed and just like that, I followed Drew down the deck steps and out into the darkness of the large backyard. I guess he was familiar with the Connelly house because he made a beeline to a backyard shed. I was three paces behind him. Once we were out of sight, the guy was on me. Our bodies embraced and we kissed with more tongue than I was used to. Fuck, this guy was horny. I could almost taste the need in his mouth. His hands were on my cock, groping and massaging through the fabric. My hands immediately gripped his formed ass in those preppy, pink shorts. We were typical horny college kids, impetuous to get off. His body felt warm pressed to mine, and I enjoyed the firmness of his build as I ran my hands up along his shirt. I usually found myself attracted to older men, but Drew was just a couple of years older than me, a junior at college, and I realized I enjoyed the contrast he had to a 30-something guy like Glen Evans or Jack Grant. Not better, for sure, but different. And in my alcohol-loosened state, the lack of finesse from Drew was actually a turn on. The sloppy kissing, the groping of my crotch, and the sheer horniness he showed for me. He pulled back, his lips an inch from mine, and spoke low. “I knew you’d be hung.” He smirked with excitement, hands still rubbing my now hard dick in my shorts. “Yeah?” I hissed, inarticulate from being caught up in the lust of the moment. “Hell yes,” he said, licking my bottom lip and then crouching down in front of me, reaching to undo my shorts. I guess the preliminaries were out of the way. “I usually can tell when a guy is packing. I have a thing for huge cocks,” he growled just as I felt my briefs-clad package exposed. “Yes,” I hissed, locking my hands behind my head at the feeling of his fingers gripping my throbbing bone. A part of me thought we were crazy doing this thirty yards from the party, but the riskiness was thrilling, too. Drew’s fingers drew my waistband out and over my ridge. My hefty cock swung free, lightly smacking his smooth cheek as I felt the moist summer air on my boner. At least for a few seconds. Drew quickly wrangled my cock and was already taking me into his mouth, humming excitedly as he stuffed his face with my girth. I let out a deep breath to let him know how much I enjoyed the feel of his mouth. The warm wet lips descended down on me, further down. I looked down and even in the dim darkness I could see Drew’s brown hair and watch his head draw closer toward my pubes. Like, all the way down. Nose plastered against my curly dark-blond hairs, lips grazing my scrotum. The guy was unbelievable. It wasn’t like he was the best cocksucker I had experienced or would experience. PO2 Kevin Marshall’s technique was better for my pleasure. But Drew was the first guy I’d encountered who was able to deep throat me right off the bat. It was an impressive ability. Cute Drew started long, up-and-down mouth strokes on my fat tool. I put my hands on my hips and let him service me. Even in my limited sexual experience, I liked having a guy go down on me, liked the physical sensation, the way his mouth would get me off, but also the psychological aspect of it, another man working for my pleasure. I didn’t come too quickly, but I didn’t hold back. Drew’s bobbing deep-throating was practically sucking the cum from my balls. I let out a quiet, “I’m close,” as a warning then let myself orgasm right into his throat. When I jack off, I sometimes think of having either a pleasure orgasm or a relief orgasm. I mean, they’re all pleasurable but sometimes the sensations are deeper and last longer. This was some of both. It was definitely hot to come as Drew gave me head, but also my backed up balls and sex drive were driving a need for release. I patted the side of his head to thank him as he pulled off, slurping up the remnants of my seed. I was willing to reciprocate, but Drew didn’t make any move to stand up. Instead he unzipped and started flagging his prick as he leaned forward to take my spent cock into his mouth again. It was clear that he loved my size and wanted to get off with me in his mouth. I obliged, even if I was feeling more sensitive now that I’d come, hissing a bit at the oversensation. It didn’t take the dude long to nut. I heard soft whimpers below me, Drew’s lips still suckling around my still plump shaft. And soon I could tell he was spurting his seed on the ground between his knees. Drew finally stood up, taking a few heavy breaths and sucking the dribbles of cum from his hand to clean it off. “That was hot,” he whispered, leaning his face into mine. “Yeah, thanks,” I said, relishing in the postcoital endorphins. Sex with a guy beats a stroke session any day, and this had been an unexpected pleasure. I was starting to worry, though, about our absence. We got straightened up and made our way back to the deck and back inside, where the gathering was close to wrapping up. Drew acted cool as a cucumber, and I hoped it didn’t show on my face that I’d just had sex. A few minutes later, John came up to me. “Hey, there you are… Kelly and I are heading back to the house soon, if you’re ready to go.” Dad and Matt had already headed back. “Yeah, sounds good,” I said, feeling self-conscious about my secret tryst with Drew now. “Have a good time?” he asked. I wasn’t sure if he was implying more to his question, but his expression seemed normal, not insinuating. “Yeah,” I said. “Megan’s family is great.” “They are,” John said. “But if I have to hear one more `your brother lucked out’ comment…” he mock-groaned. John was the most cynical of us and had a dry sense of humor. I laughed. John took a sip of his bottled water, since he was driving. I’m sure he was taking a break, too, after the previous night’s partying. He seemed like he had something on his mind. “Dad’s really gonna miss you now that you’ve moved out. You know that, don’t you?” I shrugged. The pissy teenage Jim came out. “Dude, he’s been gone half a year.” John kind of rolled his eyes. He was the kind of guy who didn’t put up with bullshit, and he wasn’t putting up with mine now. “He’s gonna have a hard time with you gone. You’re his favorite, Jim.” That annoyed me. “Come on, man….” My brothers always ragged me for having it easy being the youngest son. They always accused me of being spoiled and Dad of favoritism. “It’s true, man. Dad loves all of us, like crazy, but I don’t think he’s ready for you to be all grown up.” John had a rockier relationship with Dad. I knew, although they seemed to get along better now that John was out on his own. I let the words sink in, but I didn’t have anything smart to say in reply so I stayed silent. John’s voice got quieter. “You come out to him yet, Jim?” I shook my head, no. “You should.” “It’s tough, John.” I almost whined. I didn’t like giving excuses, but I felt he didn’t, or couldn’t, understand how hard it was for me. “I’m sure it is. I haven’t been in your shoes,” he said. But he patted my shoulder and added, “I just know you guys are close, and this will eat at you until you tell him.” He was right. I didn’t want him to be right, but he was. “I’ll tell him,” I grumbled softly. He patted my back with fraternal affection. “I got your back, Jim. Know that. We all do.” ***** I slept well. It was after 9 when I woke up. Everyone was in the kitchen having breakfast – Dad, Matt, John, and Kelly, all in various stages of being dressed and ready for the big day. They teased me for being a late riser, but I probably got the hardest ribbing for reaching for a coffee mug. “When did you start drinking coffee, Slugger?” Dad asked. “I’m a college guy now, Dad,” I said with a grin. “Gotta stay up late for those term papers.” My roommate Tim was a big coffee drinker, and I liked the smell of the lattes he’d get at the student center. I decided to give them a try and surprised myself by liking them. I still took my coffee with cream and sugar, not black like Dad. “Term papers, my ass,” John quipped, and everyone laughed. There was a palpable excitement about the wedding day. Dad had offered to run a few errands to pick up flowers and the cake, and Matt was going along to help. John was a groomsman, so he and Kelly would be at the church early and would bring me there, too, to help out with setting up. The remainder of the morning was a blur. I got showered and dressed in my default, semi-formal attire: gray trousers, a blazer-like, navy blue coat, blue dress shirt, and plaid tie. My semi-wavy hair was getting shaggy, but I applied some product and did my best to comb my mane straight. I looked clean cut as hell, with that jock-next-door look. John looked like a million bucks. He was in a tailored, navy blue suit and his girlfriend Kelly in a simple black dress and black high heels. I gathered that women up North don’t doll themselves up with make-up like Southern women often do. I had to admit, Kelly was pretty but in a sophisticated way – tall and thin with her long, straight brown hair that fell just below her mostly bare shoulders. I could see why John went for her. “Quite the couple,” Dad said enthusiastically as he looked up from his armchair. He was dressed in his shirtsleeves, his crisp, starched-white tailored shirt and pale green, geometric-patterned tie setting off his gray eyes, making them look bluer. “You guys are going to show up Paul and Megan.” “That’s the point,” John laughed, joking but hinting at a playful sibling rivalry. The biggest surprise for me was seeing Matt walk in, dressed up in a suit and tie. It made him look grown up, as he stood in his officer-in-the-making posture, his short military haircut adding to his handsome features. “Ready to head out, Dad?” he asked. God, I don’t know if he was consciously imitating Dad, but my brother seemed to be adopting more of my father’s business-like seriousness. At the church, I helped out by setting up a couple of tables for the flowers and getting the programs in order. I was done and just kind of hanging out when Dad and Matt showed up. I helped them unload flowers while Megan’s mom and aunt arranged them. The wedding party arrived and the photographer started taking a bunch of pictures in various permutations. Dad slipped on his suit jacket and looked just incredible. His suit was a simple charcoal wool that brought out his features and whose cut both accentuated his muscular build and slimmed his appearance. It was bringing out some major conflicted feelings. I was attracted to him for sure, but I also loved him as my father, the rock in my life. I worried what would happen when I told him I was gay. As we were waiting in a side hallway, Dad could read my mood. “Let me fix your tie, Slugger,” he said as he stepped up and reworked the knot with his deft fingers. “There.” Then, not stepping back, he asked, “Anything on your mind, Jim?” It was now or never, I felt, and the words came out in a rush. “Dad, I’m gay.” Without missing a beat, he patted my shoulders, straightening out the lay of the sport coat I was wearing. “Not how I expected to be having this conversation,” he observed. “But you know I love you – gay, straight, whatever you are. Come here, big guy,” he growled and wrapped his arms around me for a quick but tight hug as I tenderly hugged him back. “Proud of you for being man enough to tell me,” he said softly in my ear. “Thanks, Dad.” I felt crazy emotional at that point, but I kept it together and bit my lip as I patted his back. “We’ll talk more later, Slugger,” he said, as he let go of our embrace. “We got some goddamned pictures to pose for.” ***** The wedding was great. I don’t think I’d seen Paul that emotional before, and the bride was downright beaming as she said her vows and married my big brother. I was relieved I’d come out to Dad, and yet all I could think about was that I wanted to talk more to him. We got our chance at the country club reception. We were in the air conditioned event room, when Dad came up to me as the guests started lining up at the buffet. “Will your appetite manage if we talk first, Jim?” he asked. Dad and I stole away to a quiet, secluded corner table, Dad’s chair turned towards mine as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. He asked me a few questions, but mostly let me talk – about when I knew, if I was dating anyone, and how I felt I couldn’t tell him earlier. “You know,” I said, my voice heavy with emotion as I leaned back in my banquet-hall chair, “I was so worried about telling you, Dad. I worried what would happen if you disowned me.” Dad was taken aback, visibly shocked and maybe a little hurt. “Jesus, Jim! I can’t believe you thought I would.” “It’s not like I really thought it through, sir,” I said, feeling a tidal wave of pent up feeling. “It’s just the fear of it scared me. I couldn’t stand for you to be mad at me.” “Never, Jim,” Dad sighed and paternally placed his arm on my shoulder. “I understand why you didn’t tell me, son,” Dad said thoughtfully. “But I wish you had. Wish you’d felt comfortable talking to me about it.” I gave a wistful half-smile. “Two years ago I couldn’t admit it to myself, Dad.” “I had a pretty good idea already, you know,” he said. “Really?” Dad nodded, a paternal smile forming on his handsome face. “I could just pick up on things. You just didn’t seem to have the same intensity when it came to the girls you talked about. Not like your brothers.” “I guess not,” I said. “I tried it a couple of times, actually.” beylikdüzü travesti “You’re not a virgin then?” Dad had given me the birds and the bees talks and sometimes would remind me about contraception, but we’d never talked so frankly about sex. “No, sir.” Gently shaking my head, not sure if I should be embarrassed, or proud, or apologetic with my father. “For either men or women.” “Well, I hope you’re looking after yourself, son,” he said seriously. “I am, Dad,” I replied, blushing to be having this conversation with my father. “I was about your age when I first started being sexually active,” he said. “Maybe a year or two younger, but don’t tell your grandmother.” He winked. I laughed at his joke. It was weird, but I felt a huge relief to talk to Dad like this. Like one buddy to another. “You’ve been a brave young man,” he said. “I’ll let you in on a secret. I’ve had experiences with men myself.” Color me surprised. Shocked even. I know Dad saw it in my reaction because he added quickly, “Honest truth, Jim. But I’ve never told your brothers, never felt like it was anyone’s business. Though I’m pretty sure John knows.” “Are you gay?” I asked, feeling dumb but not able to process what my father’s admission meant. “If you had to put a label on it,” he said, gripping my shoulder. “I’d probably say I was bisexual, though I never felt it needed to define me.” He looked at me with heavy emotion. “I won’t go into details about my private affairs, son, but I experimented when I was younger, before I met your mother, and then, later… it’s sometimes easier with men than it is to deal with the dating market as a widowed father.” My heart was pounding heavy. I felt like coming out was going to be the big emotional milestone of the weekend, but I was starting to think that learning about my Dad, his private life, just a little, was just as big a deal. “Wow,” I said. “Too much information?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “Not at all, Dad,” I said, touching his knee. “I appreciate you telling me, sir.” “I’m glad, Slugger,” he said and added, “I figured if you knew, it might help you somehow. Each of us have to find our own path, Slugger.” He paused, then roughed up the back of my hair like I was a little kid again. “Are we good?” “Yes, sir,” I said. “Good. Now maybe we should get some food.” He pushed his chair back, hands on his thighs and ready to stand back up. “Yessir.” ***** The DJ played every hit you would expect at a wedding reception. The dance floor was getting full, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. John and Kelly were dancing together. Matt was making the moves on a cute, blonde, college-aged woman. Paul and his new wife were busy taking turns dancing with every relative, friend and acquaintance that was coming up to them. The Connellys were a fun-loving bunch, and the open bar helped. I watched it all as I leaned up against the bar, one elbow on the bartop with my drink in hand. I left my navy sport coat on the back of my chair. I had loosened my tie, popped open the top button of my light blue shirt, and rolled my sleeves half way up my forearms. I’d had a few beers, pacing myself, but enjoying being at a wedding as a grown up and not a kid. It was at that moment that I experienced my first ever pang of jealousy. Over across the room, past all the dancing bodies, I could see my dad talking to cute Drew, who was dressed in a navy suit as a member of the wedding party. Dad’s body was hard to miss, and even though Drew was a clear regular at the gym, Dad was the taller and bigger man. Drew was leaned up against the wall on one shoulder, facing Dad as they took sparing sips from their paper-napkin-wrapped beer bottles. From the body language and the closing proximity of both men, I could tell they weren’t just talking. Drew was leaning in, clearly within Dad’s personal space. With a big smile, he ran his fingers under the lapel of Dad’s charcoal suit jacket, clearly enamored with those massive pecs. And Dad didn’t back off or react to stop him, but instead broke into a big lustful smile. Fuck it all to hell! Barely three hours ago I’d found out that my father sometimes had sex with guys, and now I was confronted by the possible evidence. From where I stood, it looked like Dad was flirting with the dude. I could tell Drew was really into Dad, and probably getting off on the idea he was about to bag another McGrath. First brother of the groom, then the father. A deep sadness battled my sexual thoughts. I wanted Dad, I knew. I wished it was me instead of Drew he was hitting on. I knew first hand how talented a cocksucker Drew was, and I imagined him showing off his skills on my Navy officer father. Or maybe Dad would get a chance to fuck that hot rounded ass. I didn’t have a clue about Dad’s sexual proclivities, of course, but my imagination went wild, picturing Dad and Drew doing it all. I thought back to what Drew had said the night before, about knowing which guys are hung. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dad had a large cock like me, and my body shuddered as I imagined it. Talk about emotional whirlwind. I’d gone from this emotional bond with my father, and what was probably the most important moment in my young life, to feeling alone, perverted, and rejected all at once. Particularly as I saw the two men walk down to the hall exit, placing their bottles on the nearest table and leaving the reception together. Fuck! I had a beer. Then another. Dad had told me to be responsible, and I’m pretty sure having a fifth for the evening wasn’t following his instructions now that I was getting drunk. But I needed it, or at least felt I did. The more sips I took, the better I felt, the nice dull happiness slowly overriding my other emotions. This was my brother’s wedding and I felt guilty as fuck that my head wasn’t where it should have been. “You having a good time, Jim?” It was one of the bride’s family friends, who I’d been seated at my table with at dinner, Joe Kozlowski. Taller than me, strapping blond man, not as fit as my father, but certainly a muscular figure, even in his suit. “Yes, sir,” I replied, “Great wedding. My brother’s a lucky man,” I said. Kind of what I was expected to say. I reflected with amusement as I thought of John’s quip from the previous night. He chuffed at the compliment to his friend’s daughter. “He sure is. Though Megan’s a lucky bride. You got a great family, Jim. Couldn’t ask for a finer bunch.” I was getting the feeling Mr. Kozlowski had had a few drinks himself. He was friendly and garrulous. “Thank you, sir.” I smiled at the compliment. “So, Jim, why aren’t you out there on the dance floor? None of my business, I suppose, but you do know weddings are the best place to get laid.” Drink in hand, he pointed out a bunch of women chattering in a corner. “Like there, those ladies are waiting for it, I promise you,” he slurred. He leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, “Go for one of the bridesmaids. They’re pissed off they have to wear those dresses and will eat up the attention.” He’d definitely had a few drinks. “I’m into dudes, actually,” I said. It’s weird: before I would have just faked it, been polite or whatever, but now, I felt confident and proud. Why bullshit around? And, yeah, the beer was speaking, too. Mr. Kozlowski looked at me with buzzed, glossy green eyes, like he was trying to decide whether I was pulling his leg. “I wouldn’t have guessed, but that’s fine,” he said. “I’ve gotten a lot more open minded lately.” I was expecting some chit chat about gay rights or something along those lines, but Mr. K surprised me. He leaned in a bit more. “A buddy turned me on to this website. All you need is a couple of stats and a dick pic and a bunch of gay dudes are lining up to give you a no-recip BJ. It’s awesome.” “I bet,” I said, smirking. “I mean, I don’t like the idea of cheating on Renee, but man, it’d been a long time since I had head. Especially like that. It’s pretty fucking addictive.” He was closer to me now, like Dad with Drew. He was looking keenly at me, and my body shook with the realization that we’d gone beyond small talk between friend-of-the-family and brother-of-the-groom. Mr. Kozlowski was feeling me out. My beer goggles made this 50-something, 6’4″ burly man, broad-shouldered and beer bellied, look pretty frickin’ hot. At that moment I really wanted to see where this could go. “I never used one of those sites,” I said. “Oh,” the man seemed a little dejected. He’d been wanting me to go down on him, all right. “But I got a buddy,” I said, a little coy with a matching smile. “Married guy. It’s always real hot between us.” “Yeah?” The friend to the father of the bride was perking back up – horny, fishing for something. “You suck him off ever?” His voice now low. It was usually me fucking Glen Evans, or him blowing me. But I thought back to Mark, the DOD guy from the previous year. “Yeah, it’s awesome,” I said. His green eyes lit up. “Damn.” The lust dripped off his voice. His hands reached into his suit trouser pockets. I thought first he was trying to show off his package to me, but he mostly seemed to be arranging his erection to be more comfortable. He looked at me hopefully. “Feel like helping a guy out, Jim?” he asked, an impish smile on his face. This guy wasn’t an overly handsome man or even that in-shape. But something about him and his horniness turned me on. And yeah, in my fucked-up state of mind, I was getting back at my father. If he was going to hook up with cute Drew, then I was going to suck Mr. K’s dick. “Yeah,” I nodded, feeling the dullness of my alcohol buzz mixing with my hormonal rush of sexual desire. Joe grinned and whispered, “Follow me.” And just like Dad and Drew, we left our drinks at the bar and headed towards the hall exit. He might have been a member of the country club, since he seemed to know where he was going. We went down the hall and downstairs to a deserted wing. Mr. K led me through the vacant men’s room door. This was risky, like the night before behind the shed. Looking back, I can’t believe I followed the big, middle-aged man into the stall. We were in close confines in the stall. I tilted my chin towards his, wanting to kiss him, but he showed no eagerness for that. Not an issue. I was there to suck his cock. Mr. K leered at me as he unbuckled his leather belt and undid his trousers. “Never would have pinned you for a cocksucker,” he whispered in a growl. We were alone, but we had to be quiet. His words pissed me off. I was doing the guy a favor. But I’d come this far, and I wanted sex. Particularly when I thought of Drew sucking my father at that very moment. The big ox-like man reached into his open fly and hauled out his prick. Kozlowski had a really, really fat tool. Fat as mine certainly, almost torpedo shaped until the head. I could see why his wife was hesitant to suck it. “Come on, man,” he hissed, an edge of lust cracking his voice. I knelt down. I could do this. Kozlowski’s cut cock was beautiful, if that was the right word – obscene, sexual, and powerful. I touched the dry hot skin, feeling where it got moist closer to his balls. Then I pulled it toward me and started licking the head. The man’s mitt of a hand cupped the back of my head. He wasn’t pulling me on, not yet, but as I started sucking, he used his grip to hold me steady as his hips started thrusting, pumping several mammoth inches in and out of my stretched mouth. A couple of times, I reached up and put my hands on his legs to signal for him to go slower, and he would. For a second. Then I’d feel the strength of his thrusts into my mouth, toward the back of my throat. Apparently this is how Kozlowski got off. I did my best to loosen my jaw and swallow my spit as he rode my mouth with very quick strokes. Not brutal, but with a prick the size of Mr. K’s, it was a really intense face fuck. Almost too much, really. That battering ram nudged repeatedly against my tonsils and was starting to trip my gag reflex, which I fought off. Very soon, I felt his fingers curl into my gelled blond hair as his thrusts got harder. The man suddenly only focused on his impending nut as he gripped my head and jammed me full of thick cock. “Take it! Oh, Fuck! Take it!” he growled as his prick fired its seed straight into my gullet. I coughed, then swallowed. The taste was bitter, with a little saltiness. As quickly as it started, Mr. K unceremoniously pulled my mouth off of his big dick and wiped it off with toilet paper before stuffing it back into his suit pants. “That was great,” he smirked as I leaned back in my crouched position. He didn’t look at me again as he left the stall, leaving me breathing heavily and wiping my chin while on my knees. By the time I stood up, I heard the men’s room door swing open and then shut. I felt used as hell, but I don’t know what I expected. Joe Kozlowski had made no bones about being anything more than a married guy looking for a quick blowjob. I just knew I still had to get off. I locked the stall door once more, leaned against the tiled wall and pulled out my cock. I spit on my palm and had to do it a couple more times as I stroked to get the right lubrication. My mind went immediately to Dad and Drew. Thinking of my father fucking the groomsman’s hot mouth, humming around his shaft like he did with mine. My seed shot out in a few steady jets. I caught my breath and wiped off the evidence. I washed my hands and looked in the mirror. I was ashamed of who I saw – disheveled, drunk. I pushed that emotion out of my head. I had been horny and needed to get off. I made my way back upstairs. I felt real uneasy about myself again after the reception when I returned to the rental house and the alcohol wore off. Not about the sex, though it was my first time having sex that I considered unsatisfying. I knew I had acted the way I did because I drank too much. And because I was trying to get back at Dad, and make up for the rejection I felt. Neither was good. ***** Matt had an early flight, and I missed him the next morning. I barely got up in time to see John and Kelly off. “It was great to see you, Jim,” John said as we hugged in the foyer. “You gotta make it out to Chicago soon. I’d love to have ya.” “Yeah, I’d like that,” I said as John picked up his carry-on. “After school settles down.” “Yeah. Well, have fun, but don’t party too much.” “You sound like Dad,” I said before waving good-bye as John and Kelly walked out the open front door. ***** It was almost 10:00 a.m. and I was still in just the pair of athletic shorts I had slept in. I still wasn’t packed, my teeth weren’t brushed, and I was sure my hair was a mess. I was barefoot and in the kitchen. I had just finished making a pot of coffee when Dad walked in, wearing only his favorite pair of Navy PT shorts. “John and Kelly leave already?” He was in a good but not overly chatty mood. “You just missed them.” As I brushed my hair back and out of my face, I couldn’t help but look. Stare actually. It wasn’t the first time seeing Dad like this, but he usually wasn’t quite this casual. istanbul travesti Despite being just an inch shorter than me, Dad’s body was thicker and more muscular than mine, wider at the shoulders even. He lacked the sculpted lines of definition, cutting around each muscle like I had. But I could clearly still make out the blocky masses of muscle that flexed just under his skin. His massive, rounded chest was covered with a swirling forest of wiry brown, chest hair, that thickened even as it spread down over his stomach, covering his whole front. At one time in his youth, he probably did have my abs. But his core still looked just as solid, the two lines that flanked his abdominals were only just visible. His shoulders and arms were big and toned, especially his triceps. At his age, it was obvious Dad spent a lot of time in the gym, on base or on the ship, keeping them that way. The legs of his shorts looked stretched around his tree-trunk thighs as he walked. His thick legs had softer, downier brown hair, more in a downward growing pattern that reached the top of feet. “You got enough coffee for your old man?” Dad’s neat hair was less disheveled than mine, and he looked like he hadn’t shaved yet. “Yes, sir,” I said, pulling down an extra mug. We stood there uncomfortably, leaning against the counter and kitchen island respectively, facing one another. There were so many emotions flowing through me at that moment. Finally, I just blurted out, “So, did you have fun with Drew?” It was as pointed and hostile a question as it sounded, maybe more. Dad straightened his neck and gave me a stern but shocked look, trying to figure me out. “Jim, I don’t pry into your personal affairs, and I’d ask the same courtesy from you.” His tone and his lecture, and most of all the fact that he was right, made me recoil. I put down my mug. “I’m sorry, Dad. You’re right, I was out of line.” I stood there, awkward and feeling very emotional. Finally I excused myself and said I was going to go pack up. “All right, son,” Dad said, in a tone that said he was still perturbed. I went to my room and started putting last night’s clothes in my garment bag. Not rushing, taking my time even. Just so I’d have something to do to keep my feelings from spilling over. A knock on my open door broke my daydream. “Can I come in, Slugger?” “Yeah, sure.” I said, barely looking up as I laid my button-down shirt into my bag. Dad stepped into the room. “I gotta ask son… is everything all right?” “Yeah, Dad, it’s just…” I tried to keep a brave face, but when I looked up at him and saw the love and affection and the fatherly concern in his face, I lost it. I started crying. Sobbing, even. “Come ‘ere kid,” Dad said, stepping up and encircling me in his arms. It was exactly what I wanted at that moment but also the worst thing in the world. The contact of his chest hair, his skin, and his warm body against my naked flesh felt sexual and a taunt at every taboo I knew I shouldn’t be feeling. It made the tears come harder and faster as I cried into his shoulder. “That’s it,” he said, patting my back. “Let it out, son. It’s tough being your age. I should have been there for you these last couple of years. Let you know I had your back.” I pulled back, wiping my eyes with the back of my arm, slowly catching my breath. “Naw Dad, it’s not that. You’re always there for me. I just felt… jealous.” That was the hardest thing I’d ever had to say, but I knew I had to get it off my chest, whatever the consequences. That made Dad smile. “You dog… I guess I should have picked up on it. I have to say I didn’t pick Drew out to be your type. I would have thought you’d go for one of your teammates or your buddies inste-….” “No, Dad,” I interrupted. “Not jealous of you. Jealous of Drew.” “Oh,” he said softly as his smile dropped from his face. I felt the tears welling up in another wave, this time streaming out without sobs, but Dad put a thumb below my eye and wiped away the moisture. “Easy, Slugger. Wait until you hear what I gotta say.” I sniffled, and my heart beat nervously. “Yes, sir.” “Maybe I shouldn’t have hidden myself from you. I was trying to be a father first. Before anything. Raise you boys and not have you worry about a new stepmother or your dad’s sex buddies or whatever rumors might spread across town if I was more open. I don’t regret the sacrifice, but I held off on my happiness, at least that way.” “Wow, Dad,” I said as I blinked away the last of my tears. “I want you happy. I do.” “Thanks, Slugger. Maybe I made the wrong call. Should have dated. Should have been more upfront. But it was the call I made. `Cause I wanted to protect you.” I had a questioning look on my face, I know. “Particularly lately. I’ve seen you mature a lot, Jim, emotionally, but physically, too.” Dad’s eyes drifted down my naked torso, then back to my face. “You’ve become a man, Jim, and I’ve been honored to see it happen. But I’ve caught myself, sometimes, looking… thinking… thoughts a dad shouldn’t have.” The implications of what he was saying took my breath away. But the conflicted look in his grey eyes made my cock throb to erection. Dad could sense I was getting turned on, `cause he scooted away to keep me at arm’s length. “I can’t, Jim,” he said, shaking his head. “Not like you want. But I wanted you to know I’ve thought of it, too. Please don’t beat yourself up over a fantasy or an idea that pops in your head. I won’t say it’s natural, but it happens, comes with the territory of being a man.” “Dad…” I objected, stopping myself from stepping towards him. “I know I told you no more lectures, but I gotta leave it at one. You understand?” “Yes, sir.” I lowered my head as I stood, half naked, erect in my shorts and emotionally exposed. But I knew when my father was laying down the law, and this was one of those times. “I’m glad we talked, Jim. Really. But I should go pack now. Get ready.” “Yes, sir,” I said more meekly now as I looked down at my feet. He gave my shoulder a final squeeze before turning and leaving me alone. I stood there for a few seconds before falling back against the wall just inside the door. I pulled down my shorts and started jerking my cock. The raw emotion was still there, but the sexual excitement was winning out. Despite it all, I don’t remember being so turned on in my life. Dad had said he’d lusted after me! Quickly, I jerked my stick, I knew it wouldn’t take long to get me there today. Only I stopped. Let go of my prick and watched it throb in a full-on erection angled from my belly. I had to try it. I kicked off my shorts and walked down the hall to the room Dad was staying in. The door was open so I walked right in. Dad was still in only his Navy PT shorts, packing his bag just inside the room. As soon as he looked up at me, he froze. His son was naked and erect before him. My breath was heavy as I thought he’d be angry, but he wasn’t. Instead he had a pained expression as he battled his own emotions. He dropped the garment in his hand as I watched his eyes slowly scan over my body. “You look incredible, Slugger,” he finally said. His words and stare made my cock bounce up harder. “Thank you, sir.” I looked down at his shorts. His cock was growing. I didn’t know exactly how much, but it looked big. Real big. “Can I see yours?” I asked, looking back up at him. He sighed as he faced me. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he said softly but tentatively hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pushed the shorts down. It was like slow motion, watching more and more, inch after inch, come into view until his penis finally flopped out. My dad’s uncut cock. It was more beautiful, and powerful, and sexual than anything I’d ever seen or could imagine seeing. My heart raced and I felt a string of sap fall from my own dick. I wondered if I was going to come spontaneously from the sight, but I didn’t. Dad’s dick grew and expanded further until it stuck up rigid and large out of a wiry bush of dark pubes – very large, thick, and a couple inches longer than mine. If I was eight inches, Dad had to be 10. I’d thought Mr. Kozlowski was hung, but my father had him beat. “Wow, Dad, that’s amazing. You’re huge.” I gave him a small smile. His defenses softened with my admiration, his thumbs still holding the elastic down under his cock. “I figured I could let you have a look,” he finally said. “Can I look closer?” I asked tentatively. He slowly nodded once. He watched me crouched down in front of him. He pushed his shorts down mid thigh, his hands falling to his side. On my knees, from that angle, Dad’s dick was even more incredible. Length, solid and erect. I admired the thick, winding dorsal vein over top, the prominent shaft of his urethra, swollen and almost throbbing, running along the underside. Even hard, Dad’s foreskin still stretched just over the corona of his fat flared head. Beautiful. I imagined that was his state when he made me 19 years earlier. The perverted idea made me hot inside and out. I had to push this further, if I could. “Can I suck you?” I couldn’t bear to look him in the face as I asked. I was ashamed of my desire, but I wanted him so bad at that moment. Every desire I’d nurtured as a teenager was bubbling up now. I watched his big nuts shift in their furry sac as his prick hardened further and his scrotum drew up. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, son.” His cock seemed excited, though, and was now giving a slow, steady bounce with each heartbeat. “Just about a closer look,” I muttered and scooted the couple inches forward. Dad stepped closer until his crotch was inches away from my face. The smell was incredible and I could feel the heat emanating from his body as much as the invisible sexual pheromones. I leaned forward and licked. My tongue made a wide swipe at the base of his stick where his ballsac connected. I looked up at him from under his cock. I moaned and Dad hissed. “Fuck!” I licked again, further up this time along the raised ridge on the underside of his cock. It pulsed with need. Then, sensing no resistance, I tenderly gripped his wide base, angling his dick as I started tonguing without pulling back, licking my way up and down that giant dad cock. I was getting real worked up and sex crazed in the process. It was like my sole purpose at that moment was to service my father’s phallus. To connect with the genitals that made me. After licking up the fat shaft, I gripped Dad just under the head. I looked up at him with my pleading blue eyes as I stroked his shaft in my fist, pulling his foreskin off his head as I kissed then licked the tip, finally tasting his salty, paternal essence. It’d been a while since I had an uncut cock, not since DOD Mark. But I remembered what drove him wild. I stroked his shaft again, pulling the hood back over his cockhead as my tongue slithered underneath just before I wrapped my lips around the head and sucked him into my mouth. Dad breath shuttered, his jaw falling lax as he immediately widened his stance. I moaned around his solid cock, stroking his smooth skin, pulling it over and around my swirling tongue and his flared head. I pulled off his dick, letting him watch my tongue massage the top of his cockhead beneith his foeskin. He ran his fingers softly through the hair behind my ear. “Oh, Slugger…” Dad mutterred with stormy grey eyes as I watched every muscle of his body ripple with pleasure under his hairy skin. I wrapped my lips back around his head and swallowed just under half his length. Dad put both his hands on my head, fingers tangling in my hair. His grip guiding me now, gently pushing his cock in, too – stretching my lips while my throat relaxed and accepted him. My hands now gripped his base and his balls. I wasn’t able to deep throat him, not this time, not by a long shot. But I took him pretty far before I started bobbing my head. Up and down. Sucking. Determined to give my father the best head I could possibly give as I moaned with full lust for my Dad. I wasn’t on his dick even a minute before I could sense him tense up. His thighs hardened and then quivered as the grip on my head got firmer. His jaw got tight as I could see the cords of his neck grow taut. I could tell he was fighting to keep his thrusts in check. “Oh Slugger, I’m gonna come,” was all he said before he loudly groaned with release. I felt his body stiffen and his cock widen in my mouth. I gripped his shaft as I sucked hungrily before his prick shot heavy jets of fatherly sperm into my mouth and down my gullet. I went wild, swallowing his seed, milking his shaft and sucking the spurting bone dry as I jerked my own meat and sent myself into an accompanying orgasm at his feet. I slowly pulled off, kissing and licking the head, my tongue diving under his hood to lick up any flavor. I let go of his plump and satisfied cock as Dad dropped his hands from my head. I leaned up and lunged toward his mouth, eager for a kiss, but he pulled away, turning his head to the side. “No, Jim, I can’t.” I was deflated but also happy at what had been the most incredible sexual experience of my life. If I had to deal with Dad being awkward in the aftermath, it was still worth it. Affectionately he patted my shoulder, but it was a fatherly kind of emotion rather than a lover’s. “We don’t have a lot of time before we have to get to the airport.” “I’m about ready, Dad,” I said, crouching back on my haunches, finally wiping my swollen lips. “Let me shower up. Be ready to go in about thirty minutes,” he said as he slipped his shorts back on, packing his still turgid meat away. “Yeah,” I said, standing up and inwardly proud to let Dad see my nude body. I could see Dad’s eyes sweep over my body, too. Guilt-ridden but also appreciative. I felt more like an adult than I’d ever felt. Glad I’d worked on my body so much in the last year, glad that I was starting to really look like a full-fledged athlete. Glad I’d taken this step with my father. Dad gave me a sad smile and walked past me toward the bathroom. ***** Dad and I had different routings back home and parted ways at the St. Louis Airport. The hug he gave was like every other hug he’d ever given me growing up, powerful yet loving, but now with the conflicting emotions in my head, it felt both sexual and disapproving. “Don’t be a stranger, Slugger,” were his parting words to me, and the emotion was heavy in his deep voice. “I’m just a few hours away.” “No, sir, I won’t.” My eyes were misting up as we parted and I walked down the concourse. Two short flights and a taxi ride later, I got back to my dorm room, where my roommate Tim was studying. Tim’s an all-right guy, a little nerdy and arty and we had almost nothing in common. I’m sure he was apprehensive about rooming with a baseball jock, but over the course of our first week, we had become fast friends. I was ready to break free of the social scene of high school, and I got the feeling Tim was, too. Tim’s straight, and beyond that, not remotely my type. And I never did tell him I was gay. At that moment, after that weekend I’d just had, I was really thankful to be somewhere without any sexual tension. I tossed down my backpack and garment bag and plopped down on the bed. “Miss me?” I joked. “How was the wedding?” Tim asked. “I got laid,” I said nonchalantly. “But otherwise weddings are pretty boring.”

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