Date: Wed, 23 Jan 2019 13:14:06 -0500
From: MC VT
Subject: A Good Dad Bisexual Adult Youth

A Good Dad
 ©2017 MCVT December 9, 2017

Parenting with proclivities, obsessive thoughts and neurotic tendencies is
possible!  (Edited version of Persian Rug.)

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Adult Content:  100% fiction, Mb, MMt, inc, firsts, bi, rom.
===============================================================

According to the decree I got visitation with my boy every weekend, a few
holidays and two months over the summer.  Not enough time!  That trauma
happened several years ago when my son was four, my wife was twenty-seven,
and her lover was fifty-three.  A fifty-three-year-old home-wrecker!  He
ruined my life, destroyed my home and dashed my dreams all in one swoop!
Probably took his ED pill with his laxative every morning.

I'd immigrated here for my education and met my wife on campus.  We married
before we graduated, and life was good for a while.  Until she got herself
a job - the geezer was her boss!

After the divorce, I tried dating again.  Relationships were messy for me,
and women were unpredictable it seemed - I couldn't get them organized
enough to enjoy any quality time.  So, I settled on being the best dad I
could be, as well as the best designer.  Don't think I'm any kind of
artsy-fartsy designer wearing raspberry-hued turtleneck sweaters and
paisley bellbottoms with ankle boots.  I specialize in fire doors and
emergency safety closures that are integrated into security systems of
manufacturing plants.  Challenging work - I love it.

I prefer a glitz-free life; and keep my home clean and neat.  Wait, that's
not a preference, but a necessity.  Clutter and dirt stress me to the max.
My townhouse is halfway between my work and the ex' house - a matter of a
few blocks.  I made it easy for us to accomplish the weekly son-sharing.
Hopefully, Darrin could ride his bike over when he was old enough - but
that made me worry about the traffic - drunk drivers and all.  So, every
Friday and Sunday I drive the "daddy's house shuttle."

***


When I picked up Darrin one Friday afternoon, he refused a haircut, so we
went straight for fish and chips - his favorite.  The ex sent me a text
saying Darrin needed new shoes, so we went trudged to the mall.  She pulled
that trick all the time, getting me to buy the high-priced things he
needed.  Kinda ticked me off because I was paying plenty of child support
but I was able to appear the "benevolent benefactor" to him.

Gee, my kid was getting big - we went to the boys' shoe department, but
they referred us to the pre-teen section although he was only nine.  Darrin
had to test several pair by running up and down a side aisle and jumping
around until he found a neon green pair he liked.  I shoveled out a load on
those!

"Rec center tonight?"  I asked when we got in the car.

"Nah."  He answered.  "Can we watch a movie?  I want to see the new space
flick."  Then he started singing the theme song of the movie.
"Ta-ta-ta-taa..."

"What's the rating?"  I butted in, "Does it have any naked people saying
bad words while they shoot heroin and throw their clothes on the floor?"

"Nah.  It's really good.  Trey liked it."  He said and continued the music.

"Good enough."  Trey was Darrin's best friend.  I doubted Trey's rating
system since he was only eleven but agreed to keep the peace.

***


I found a couple of blankets while Darrin cleaned up, then I showered while
he made a small bunker of blankets and pillows on the couch.  This movie
must have some "scary" parts.  Hmmm...

We snuggled in for our movie, me sitting on the end of the couch, next to
my son inside his fluffy fortress and I noticed he was completely out of
his usual high-voltage energy.  "What happened at school today?"  I asked
while we waited for the movie to come on.

"Fitness stuff."

"Okay."  Not enough information again, but I let him watch his movie.
About halfway-into the movie, I heard soft snoring and saw Darrin was
sleeping peacefully.  I watched the movie; glad Darrin didn't see the
alien-snake burst out of a pseudo-human form chomping the air rabidly with
razor-sharp teeth as it lunged toward the time travelers.  Blood splattered
all over the camera lens making me jump.  Trey must have nerves of
titanium.

As the movie ended, I noticed Darrin digging in his butt through his
pajamas; my internal antennae went up and my radar activated, but I stayed
quiet and watched - early warning alerts raced through my cerebral neurons
with every soft snore.

After the movie, I watched the local news, then flipped through the talk
shows for a while.  Darrin scratched his butt several more times.  "They're
back!"  I thought and went to the bathroom, searching for the pills I'd
used last time.  "Gonna have to wash everything, spray the house, vacuum,
mop - maybe some of those fog-bombs.  Another six-week siege!"

My anxiety level climbed into the stratosphere as I searched under the sink
for insecticide to review the label for effectiveness against the
micro-beasts.  In the bathroom I couldn't find any of the old pinworm
medication; must have thrown it away.  So, I went online to see what I
could do until the drugstore opened.  One site advised using a bit of tape
on the anus to get a worm, and it showed a photo of what to look for to
make clear identification.  Good idea!  The parasites couldn't stand heat,
so it recommended hot compresses to the anal area.  A high-garlic diet was
supposed to be helpful.

Well, I'd have to check to see if he'd scratched his butt raw anyway, so I
found some tape, the magnifying glass, and a flashlight and partially
disassembled Darrin's barricade.  "Gotta check your butt.  Pull your
pajamas down."  He didn't even open his eyes but pushed his pajamas down
and lifted his butt a little, he was on his side.  "How long has your butt
been itching?"  I asked, whispering.

No answer - no movement.  "Let me get a specimen."  Identify and conquer.
Prying his cheeks apart, I shone the light on his anus.  He'd scratched his
short cleft into a brilliant red, and I saw some miniscule white spots -
like lint.  Carefully, I took the tape and pressed the sticky side against
his tiny wrinkled sphincter, gathering a few of the pinpoint-sized dots
muttering curses the whole time.

I wiped him thoroughly with a damp towelette and stroked along his thighs,
noting his legs muscles were strong, but his shoulders were still narrow.
He enjoyed the speedier sports, like futbol and track.  Not a big deal -
tall and lean like me when I was nine.  Using almost half the box of
towelettes, I wiped his fingers and his cleft several more times until he
told me to stop.

"Enough, Dad!  I'm clean now!"

***

On the back porch I inspected the tape.  Sure enough - the remains of a
delicate pinworm carcass was stuck in the glue.  I almost gagged being so
close to it and stopped breathing until I could seal it in a bag and put it
in the trash and scrubbed my hands with scouring powder - it was the
closest thing I could find stronger than dishwashing soap.  I might need a
box of plastic gloves for this affair; several gallons of bleach.  The
thought of worms in my house upset me enough to immediately start a load of
laundry and secure the rest in sealed trash bags, including all Darrin's
clothes and linens.  Then I wet a washcloth with hot water and went back to
him.  "Gonna put this on your butt.  Be still."  Uncovering him, I slipped
the hot, moist cloth against his anus and held it there.

"Do it like last time."  He mumbled.

Holding the warmth firmly against his anus, my other hand went between his
legs to rub him in a comforting way.  We'd experienced pinworms before when
Darrin was younger, and he enjoyed me massaging him gently between his legs
after he got my examinations.  I'll admit I was more distraught during my
first worm-war, "WWI."  My examinations were more extensive back then,
often testing Darrin's patience to the point of forcing him to sleep under
his bed and refusing to come out until I promised to leave his butt alone
so he could sleep.

"Like before, Dad."  He started moving his butt closer to me.

"Damn demanding for being asleep."  I grumbled and was grateful pinworms
can't jump.  On his back, he bent his knees and let his legs fall open, and
then he scooted his butt toward me, his eyes still closed with body limp -
still mostly asleep.  He liked me comforting him while he was on his back
the best.  I pressed the warm cloth into his cleft more deeply and stroked
between his legs moving my hands upward, caressing his tummy, fondling him
gently.

"Well, what's this?"  I saw his delicate, but rigid young erection fully
aroused.  That hadn't happened before!  A whiff of boy-musk flew past my
nose.  "Perfume of paradise."  I thought but pushed that thought back and
caressed the area where the musk originated.  Yeah, I sniffed my fingers.

In the dim light, comforting my son, another unfamiliar thought sallied
into my brain between my plans to create pinworm extinction.  "Why not lean
over and give him a reassuring kiss?  He's old enough to appreciate a
tickle on his frenulum - silky skin slick with your saliva, little fingers
on your face...  Your tongue exploring between his testicles and sucking...
What does a kiddie-orgasm taste like anyway?"

Where did that come from?  I shook the thought from my head but wondered.
That quick mental suggestion stunned me for a moment.  Thankfully, the
better side of me stepped forward between my thoughts.  For a split-second,
my life had profound meaning - worms and all.  Darrin was my perfect gift
to the world.  Through all the havoc of the divorce and the back-and-forth,
he trusted me and remembered how I'd comforted him.

"I made that soft, tender skin and smooth muscles," and I remembered back
to my childhood when admiring my body or touching myself was a hell-bound
sin.  A drop of semen would damn me to an eternal roasting.  One sneaky
drop!  All eternity in hell for a miniscule dribble from a four-inch
erection!  Damn severe punishment from the same god who made me leaky half
my childhood; I was a boy-juice producing machine when I was a kid.  Never
had a chance.  That restriction never made much sense to me, but the shame
and guilt were embedded in the very foundation of my being.

I'd followed their strict beliefs as my frustration and anxiety built
through puberty.  That shame left me warped, ignorant and confused - I got
head-screwed by my own parents.  When I married, I knew nothing - nothing
about pleasing myself much less a woman and was not the lover I could have
been.  Thankfully, I had enough instinct to make my son.

The shame, fear and ignorance that ruled my young life still lingered
around in the dark corners of my adult brain though - I was still shackled
in a lot of ways I didn't recognize.

The next morning, I took Darrin to the store.  We bought the pills,
fingernail brushes, manly-scented soap, coconut oil and the other
worm-eliminating items my psyche demanded.  "One brush is for Mom's house,
one is for us.  Scrub your hands and fingers, especially before you eat and
after you poop."  I whispered as we waited in the checkout line and I
mulled new drapes and carpet.  "They better not mutate on my premises!"  I
thought and gritted my teeth.

Darrin got a pill as soon as we got home, I noted on my phone when he would
need the next with fifteen reminders.  Just in case.

***


My full-blown assault on wormdom began as soon as we entered the house.  I
sprayed his book bag, the beds, and around the kitchen while Darrin went
outside to kick the soccer ball around the back lot.  Maybe I was a bit
over-enthusiastic, but the thought of worms hiding in my house was causing
me increasing distress.  I wondered if I would slip into a panic attack; I
had to keep myself in check, but I didn't know how.  Time equals eggs to
pinworms.  They were multiplying; I could feel it happening in moist,
hidden places like under the refrigerator and behind the toilet - maybe on
our toothbrushes!  Grab the bleach!  They were creating a war, but I would
win!  I had the chemicals, I was bigger!  This could take more than six
weeks if they launched an aggressive counter attack.

When Darrin came in, "Phew, Dad!  You're in `overkill' again!"  He asked if
we could leave for a while and let the house air-out.  That jolted me off
the path to the ER.

"You're right."  How would I admit that I was baiting myself into a heart
attack over a few microscopic life forms?  I readjusted my exaggerated
response to the parasites while we got in the car and headed to the park
where there were plenty of kids playing footy and filling the swings and
slides.

***


All ages - boys and girls and some teens and lots of parents in their lawn
chairs were there - dotting the sidelines with summer colors.  Good
distraction, but I knew the worms were multiplying while I was gone and
wondered if they tied themselves in knots during coitus.  Were the knots
tight enough to strangle them during their moments of ecstasy?  Can a worm
climax?  "Refocus, old man."  I thought and exhaled deeply.  "Enough with
the overkill."

All my concerns disappeared as I watched Darrin slipping through the gangs
of kids on the field, controlling the ball and making some fine passes and
a goal!  I stood and did my loud whistle several times until one of the
mothers asked me to sit at the other end of the field or use my "inside
whistle."  Seems, my fervor was giving them headaches; I moved to the other
end of the field because I didn't know what an "inside whistle" was about.

During a few slow moments on the field, Darrin ran to me and threw his
shirt at me, his face red, breathing hard.  His nipples were in hard, tiny
knots on his smooth chest and his hair was stuck to his forehead and neck.
Dang, he was a good-looking boy, smooth skin; clear, hazel eyes.  Looking
at him was like looking in some kind of time-mirror.  He looked so much
like me when I was young, but much happier and more relaxed, slender and
tall - still sporting the straight lines of a child's body and he moved
like mercury up and down the field!  We stayed until the sun was setting
and the other kids starting heading home for dinner.

"You were great out there today!"  I told him as we got in the car.

It took him a few moments to get his breath and calm down.  "Can we get
pizza?"

After a few moments of thinking, I suggested we cook at home, "I'll get the
tray and we'll watch some sports while we eat.  Got to make sure you're not
re-infected by some slacker in the back room of the pizza joint."  He was
disappointed, so I pulled in the convenience store and got ice cream and
sodas for floats.

Maybe I wanted one, too.  Warfare is tiring.

***


While Darrin went to the shower, I started garlic bread with cheese and
heated the marinara for dipping when I heard him calling me into the
bathroom.  "My butt burns when I use the soap."  He said when I came in the
bath.  While I dug in the cabinet for the antiseptic cream, he leaned over,
pulling his cheeks apart.

"Aren't you brazen giving me a moon like that?"  I muttered.  I immediately
shut up!  Mistake - big mistake!  I'd just smeared my parent's shame about
bodies onto my son.

He blushed, "But Dad, you're supposed to help me when I hurt."

"Yeah, I'm sorry I said that - let me examine your little monkey butt."  I
reached between his legs and patted his perineum trying to back out of my
error.  "We could take a photo and go to the zoo to see if they have any
finer little cheekies in the monkey house.  Let's make posters and let
people butt-vote.  I bet you'd win."

"Dad!"  He was smiling now - I hoped he'd forgotten about my comment.  It
was my job to help him with medical problems - wherever on his body they
occur.  It was my job to guard his health and instill a positive
self-image.  It was my job to respect the dignity of his person.  I'd
failed at all of this and more with a few words.

After scrubbing my hands, I went back to the kitchen thinking I had to keep
my parent's shame and ignorance out of Darrin's life completely.  Then,
there were times when bodies should be covered and times they shouldn't,
like at the clinic...  Hmmm.  There's a dilemma.

***


We had a mellow evening watching sports and eating.  Darrin made floats and
it was a messy business, but delicious.  I learned that floats are best
served in bowls with a damp towel in hand - the foamy part is the fun part.
It's also the most unpredictable part but doesn't stain the carpet.  "Calm
down Dad."  He repeated throughout the entire float fiasco.

When the news came on Darrin asked me if I played futbol when I was young.
"Well, yeah.  I didn't like it - I wasn't as fast as you are.  I liked
baseball; played in the outfield in college.  Way-outfield."  We talked
sports for a while, and I gathered my boy up against me.  "You tell me if
you need any equipment, or anything.  I'm so proud of the way you get into
the game and move around like a weasel."

"I'm not going out for any teams."  He said in a small voice.

"Why?  You're a natural."  I was flummoxed - he was having a blast this
afternoon.

"Trey said the guys in middle school make fun of the kids in the locker
room, when they shower.  They make fun of the younger guys' junk and pop
them on the butt with their towels."  He looked up at me and squinched his
face.

"Towel popping..."  I never had to deal with that.

"Dad, I don't like taking my clothes off in front of strangers - makes me
feel funny."

"Okay.  Go home to shower."

Later, he laid his head on my shoulder and was quiet for a long time, then,
"Are you going to inspect my butt again tonight?"

"Would you mind?" I asked.

"Feels good."  He said and turned to lay on the couch, pulling his briefs
down.

Gathering all my testing equipment, I came back and told him I needed to
wait till he was asleep.

"It's okay.  You can do it now."  He instructed me point-blank.  I decided
it wasn't the time to explain the lifecycle of parasites, and the slots on
their day planners for reproduction, so I went with his plan.  Carefully, I
opened his cheeks, and pressed the tape into his anus.  Pulling it out, I
showed him one part of a thin worm with the magnifying glass.

"Another pill later and they'll be gone.  Probably screaming for mercy
right now."  Putting my ear to his stomach, "Yep, I can hear `em wailing."

He laughed, "Worms can't scream."

"Well, put your ear on your stomach and see if I'm lying."  I tousled his
hair.

***


Then he asked me to rub him like before.  He lay on his back, staring up at
me with his knees bent and his feet on my thigh.  When I reached for the
oil, he grabbed his knees and pulled them toward his chest lifting his butt
and exposing his ass clearly.  I used several more towelettes and applied
the oil.  He did have a cute rear end.  Scooping a small glob of the
slippery oil, I began rubbing his perineum, then spread the oil to his
scrotum, massaging the tiny, dark ridge between his testicles.  He watched
my face, and I smiled.  "Is this what you want?"  I asked.

He only nodded, his eyes wide, and his lips opened slightly when my fingers
gently caressed his miniature, straight erection.  His pale-pink foreskin
framed his glans, and his little slit seemed almost too small for urination
of any consequence.  "Must want some affection," I thought.

"Do you masturbate?"  I asked softly from a father's concern.  He shook his
head, definitely enjoying my strokes.  Something inside me wanted to lean
over and suck him just to feel his body tremble in pleasure, but I held
myself back.  "Would you like to?"  I said softly.

He nodded, still transfixed by a newfound pleasure.  I stroked his
miniature rod gently and watched his face until I saw that moment of deep
pleasure coming.  A crimson glow began on his chest and moved upward to his
neck and face.  His hips jerked and he took a deep breath.  "Dad!" His eyes
closed and he took a deep breath.  A mini-orgasm happened under my hand; I
kept my fingers still and warm around his kit, watching his face.

He got up, and I thought he might leave, but he came to my lap and snuggled
against my chest as close as he could get to me.  "That's the best!"  He
told me and kissed my cheek near my ear.  In that very moment I made a
major decision to clarify things and not repeat the horrible mistakes that
kept me shackled in fear and shame for years.  No whispering, I turned the
light on beside us and told Darrin that masturbation was a normal and
natural activity all children enjoy.

"Stroking off is your job - part of your sexuality, your body's growing up
- and every part of you is beautiful and seems to be normal and healthy as
soon as we get rid of the freeloaders in your belly."  From there, I
caressed each part of his genitals gently while I explained how it would
grow and what would happen.  Of course, I kept it simple, and let him know
how to be responsible. "Wipe up your semen when it starts happening.  Women
hate finding dried cum all over the place.  When you want to masturbate,
get a tissue or something first - surprises happen.  Your cum; your clean
up.  Understand?"

When I took the lead without hesitancy, Darrin asked me questions about his
body and making sperm and masturbation while he wiggled on my lap.  All the
while, I kept him close and considered this one of my most triumphant and
shiniest moment in my parenting.  Information and easy communication!
"Anytime you have any questions you can ask me or call me.  Be proud of
your body and take care of it."

I noticed my fingers had wandered back to his groin to tickle his frenulum
gently, and I knew I was enjoying this too much.  "Okay, enough for
tonight.  Let's go to bed."  I reigned myself in before more devilish
thoughts returned.

After a shower and an incredibly productive rub, I went to bed.  Not long
after, Darrin crawled in beside me.  I didn't say anything as he snuggled
next to me, but I wrapped my arm around him and pulled him close.  "I love
you, monkey-butt." I whispered and rubbed his smooth chest.

***


The shining moment of my parenting tarnished in a nanosecond the next
morning.  Darrin sneaked his hand under my briefs to my morning erection.
"Uhm.  Have some more questions?"  I asked.

"Yeah, can I see your penis?  It's big!"

Gently taking his hand from my excited erection, "Not today.  Uh, um, well
- it's about propriety."  I thought that was clear enough to end the
conversation, forgetting kids' propriety is very different from adult
propriety.  But Darrin didn't know what the word "propriety" meant, so he
ignored my rebuff.

"Dad, you touched me a lot last night.  I wanna see."  His fingers found
their way back to my erection.  Any kind of propriety vanished against that
logic.  My mind scrabbled quickly for some rational dodge to avoid
potential jail time and a thorough public shaming for everyone if I was on
the perv list.  But my erection was so hard I thought the skin on my penis
might split - I wanted his touch!  A clear mental image of his hands and
lips covered with my semen filled my head.  In that moment, I realized I
was facing incestual proclivities that were no longer dormant inside me.

In a flash of brilliance, "Children's bodies have a certain kind of
electrical charge - very well-documented phenomenon.  Their electrical
charge is lethal when applied to an erect adult appendage -- the penis in
particular.  That's why it's against the law - you could go to jail for
patricide - murder."

Darrin's eyes were wide, staring at me.  "Murder?"

Kissing his cheek while I moved his hand away, "How would you feel if you
had to call an ambulance to pick up my body because you electrocuted me
with those nosy fingers you keep poking in my drawers?"  Then, I iced my
cake, "You'd never find a decent lawyer to represent you.  Life sentence
with no video games!"

Darrin was confused for a moment, then looked up at me with a half-smile.
"That's a joke."  His fingers sneaked back under my briefs.  I jerked,
moaned and feigned death.  The little shit just laughed at me.

"Enough!  I own you till you're eighteen, and I'm the boss here."  I
glanced at my left wrist.  "I say it's time to pee."  I pressed my index
finger over his full bladder.  "Right?"  He laughed and jumped off the bed
and ran to the bathroom while I considered X to the zero power.

***


Seems like my ex had been out late the night before and needed extra time
to get the linens washed and the house sprayed before I brought Darrin back
home, so he stayed with me Sunday night after another workout at the soccer
fields.  Actually, I doubted the ex washed and sprayed well enough, if at
all, but I had to let that go.  Her lackadaisical housekeeping exacerbated
my nervousness.

Darrin and I spent a few minutes at the mall where I was finally convinced
him to get a haircut by saying that he could get worms in his hair, too.
"They'll only make scabs and stink.  It's okay if you want to keep your
hair long.  You can sleep in a shower cap when you come over."

Telling him that lie made me realize my obsession about the worms was
driving my parenting and it made me manipulative with my son.  I'd lied to
him.  That kind of parenting had to go but I wasn't sure how to replace it
except by threat of a spanking.  I couldn't bring myself to cause him pain
- he was a good boy and very patient with me, in fact, he managed me very
well.

We sat on the couch together after dinner, with him close and I stroked his
sweet shoulders and he asked me to rub him again, "Like last night."  He
was grinning, and I stood up to get the coconut oil from the bath, hiding
my own grin and my thickening erection.  I fondled his impudent, rigid
cocklet and gently fingered his charming sac while he enjoyed himself
watching sports and occasionally letting me give him another orgasm.  That
was so hot I had to keep a pillow on my lap most of the evening -- my
inner-pervert was becoming more assertive.  My filthy mind occupied itself
with how I could find another way to touch him without the guise of
comfort.  The worms would be gone soon.  What was I going to say?
"Turnabout's fair play -- time for you to finger me for a while?  Did you
know sucking off your dad isn't as revolting as you might imagine?"

That thought slid away quickly. Being with Darrin was more comfortable when
I was honest and helping him straighten out some of his problems.  When I
listened to him with my full attention, I realized how smart he was about
his world and the wags he had to deal with.  Being a good dad felt good,
and I could do better, if I applied myself.  I made a point to tell him to
stand up straight and be very proud of the organs that were going to change
his body to become a man.  Then, I started standing up straighter -
children learn by example.  Right?

I realized I had to practice being the man I wanted him to become and make
it clear.  No more obsessions, no self-centered, opportunistic thoughts; no
more "overkill" of anything.  No more lies or manipulations - honest, clear
communications were in order.

I was center stage on the weekends now - my son was watching me act like a
man; a good man and a good dad.

***


Even at work I felt better, as if I was actually making an impact in this
old world, especially in my son's part of it.  Maybe it was a somewhat
convoluted, bumbling attempt into making an impact, but I'd opened up the
subject of his body and taking care of himself and hopefully I'd redirected
him from my shame, ignorance and guilt thanks to a parasitic infestation.

Online, I looked for information - some kind of parenting material - but
absolutely nothing shame-based.  Had to be a holistic approach - how to be
respectful to others' bodies and their attitudes as well as deal with them
effectively.  It had to be some materials that taught pride, how to be
confident and strong.  Darrin's locker room situation had to have
resolution other than, "Go home to shower."

I always left the door to my office open and heard a light rapping behind
me.  It was Manny, one of my co-workers from human resources department.
He pulled a chair close to my desk and smiled.  "Time for the `birds and
bees?'"  He smiled reading the search terms.

"No, I'm looking for more than that - some ideas on how to build my son's
pride - you know his confidence, maybe develop a little moxie to face down
the bullies.  And understand puberty - he'll be there soon."

"Could you take a minute and go to this website?  My brother said you'd be
interested in the thermal barrier shields.  He designed them."  Manny
showed me a line of new materials that gave me some ideas for a difficult
project.  Before he left he told me that he knew of some workbooks that his
sister had used with her children for building character and developing
ethics.  "The topics integrate character and physical development.  Teen
years can be confusing in our culture."  He explained, "Very straight
forward information - if you can handle that."

I could consider anything but the "one drop to hell" philosophy.  Later, I
got an email from Manny with a link to a workbook for home schooled kids.
Although the information seemed somewhat mature to me, it made sense about
bodies and boundaries and making good decisions.  It used the words
"ethics" and "integrity," and it was filled with cartoons, drawings and
color pictures.  There were phrases and vignettes with drawings.
Interesting.

I invited Manny over for dinner that night.  He brought the workbook with
him and a bottle of wine.

***


Flipping through some of the pages, I read a few of the notes the Manny's
sister had written in the margin and noticed the term "parental karma."  I
had to chuckle at that - it was about accepting a child's preferences - the
example used was about clothing choices.  "Why did your sis pick this
book?"

"That was my choice..."  He explained that since societal pressures
hyper-sexualized youth, this book put sexuality back into a healthy, human
perspective.  "Maybe it was because I wanted to be a priest - this book
teaches children to keep their ability to reason, and their values at the
fore.  We want our children to respect the health and bodies of others as
well, right?  There's a chapter on predators in there, too.  You may think
it would scare them, but kids need to be suspicious and need clear
information about those situations before they happen.  Especially if
they're offered drugs or alcohol by anyone - or offered some kind of treat
or gift - lots of opportunists and pervs out there."

I didn't say anything to that, only nodded.

"Does Darrin know how to call 9-1-1 and make a report if he finds a friend
who's sick or drugged?  Does he know how to report when someone touches
him?  Children need to practice their agency early.  They're powerful
beings - need to be taken seriously."

He thought for a moment. "But the book is about integrity in every part of
life.  It focuses on confidence in being a good person it's about loving
and being loved on a lot of levels.  The healthy kinds of love."

"Loving and being loved..."  That sounded like what I needed and wanted to
share with my son.

Unfortunately, by mentally wending through Manny's explanation, I realized
I had the potential to be a world-class perv.  Though I hadn't acted on it
fully, my dark thoughts clearly profiled me as an A1, self-centered,
desperate opportunist.  My son could become my victim; my easy prey.

***


After a few more glasses of wine, I asked Manny why he wasn't working in
the church - "You'd look great in a collar."

"Well, I got my degree in Child Development; I thought they'd want me in
the school - teaching.  When I admitted being bisexual, they crossed my
name off the list.  I don't know why.  Taking a vow of chastity means no
sex with anyone.  And I'd already given up the chase - never was very good
at dating and all that."  He looked away.

I wondered why he wasn't good at dating, he was short and stocky, but all
muscle and had incredibly long, black eyelashes and thick black hair.
Good-looking guy; maybe he was too serious or too smart.  "So, human
resources now?  How's that working out?"  I asked.

"Child development, human resources - almost the same thing some days.
Have you met the guys down in IT?"  He glanced at me and lifted an eyebrow.
I almost blew my wine out my nose with that comment I was laughing so hard.
I never considered it, but they were an ignorant clot of adolescents.
That's why we kept them secured in the basement during business hours.

"Look, if you want to use the book, keep it and copy out the pages you
want.  There's coloring pages and blanks where kids name the parts of their
body with the real names.  Try it, and I'll look around for some more
information."  Before he left that night, he told me he would help anyway
he could with parenting, "Call any time, glad to help."

***


Friday nights became closer with Darrin as I showed him some of the book
and we discussed the brief stories and drawings.  He'd sit on my lap and
hold the page while I gently rubbed along his groin when he asked me to.
One night when we discussed nudity and when it's appropriate and when it's
not, we hit a snag that shot my blood pressure through the roof instantly.

Darrin described his experience with nudity and touches: My ex's boyfriend
had accompanied my son to the bathroom, saying he needed to pee.  Darrin
told him to go to the other bathroom, he was going to take a shower.  When
the older man tried to explain himself, he reached out to grope my son's
rear end.  Darrin was naked, scared and shouted for his mom.

"What did you tell him?"  I'm sure my face was scarlet as I asked.

"I told him you own me, like you said.  But he didn't leave till Mom came
in."

"That's right.  I own every part of you - no one else gets to touch or even
see your body unless I say.  Good job."  I tried to keep my voice calm in
front of Darrin.

After Darrin went to bed, I texted his mom and told her that if I ever
heard that my son, "My Son," was disrespected by her sick boyfriend again,
I'd start an investigation.  "Please show him this text to make sure he
understands me.  I own my son until he's eighteen, and I won't have him
hyper-sexualized by an opportunistic interloper - whether you love the jerk
or not.  No touching my Darrin and no funny bathroom situations."

She called the next morning apologizing profusely.  "Put him on the phone."
She said he wasn't there though I heard someone in the background.  "Tell
him I'm gunning for him - no second chances when it involves my Darrin.  By
the way, what's this guy's last name, his real one?  I'm checking the sex
offender registry."

That comment started a rush of excuses causing me to become highly
suspicious.  She gave me a last name; he wasn't on the list, but I checked
at the photos from the offenders listed in our area.  I didn't know where
he lived before...

Darrin had no reason to lie, and I was determined to keep him safe.  That
workbook was teaching me some great vocabulary and clarified my resolve in
raising an integrous man and maybe making one of myself in the process.
Yeah, that "no second chances" statement surprised me as well, but I meant
it!

***


Manny invited Darrin and me to a birthday party for his niece.  She was
eleven and a beautiful, young woman with big eyes and long hair.  His whole
family was good-looking, dark with clear skin - healthy family.  They were
incredibly happy, and I noticed they smiled often and helped each other
without being asked.

I showed the picture of the niece to Darrin.  He smiled.  When we went to
find a gift, he suggested we get her some hair stuff.  I followed him down
the aisle where there were barrettes, and bows, and things I didn't
understand, but Darrin seemed to know what he wanted.  Darrin selected a
variety of flowered clips and beribboned paraphernalia; I tossed some tubes
of lip-gloss that smelled like fruit.  At home, he got his markers out and
decorated a bag with her name and some bugs, I think one was supposed to be
a butterfly, I hoped the others weren't pinworms or their eggs.  Not an
appropriate for a party.

Manny's sister ran a somewhat "organic" house - too messy for my tastes,
but the gang of kids was comfortable and could play and romp without fuss
all the way from the front yard to the back and all over the downstairs.
Instead of cake and ice cream, the older kids made grilled tofu sandwiches
with smiley faces toasted into the sides of homemade whole wheat bread and
fruit slices.  I felt sugar-guilt for all the crud I ate and served Darrin;
that lasted for three seconds after I tasted the sandwich.  The fruit was
quite palatable.

Eleven mis-matched candles adorned the center of the table and the children
offered gifts before the birthday girl blew them out.  When Darrin gave her
the bag filled with his gifts, he leaned over and kissed her cheek.  She
kissed him back, but when she opened the bag and spilled out all the bright
bows, she reached over and hugged him causing an immediate crimson rush to
his cheeks and a very astonished look on his face.  I got it on video - my
guy looked completely astounded!

On the way home, I asked Darrin if he had a good time.  "Yeah.  Can we go
back?  Those kids are fun and we can play anywhere we want."

"I'll ask Manny."

***


A month later, Darrin's middle school sponsored a dance in the cafeteria
and I volunteered to chaperone.  The week before, I checked to make sure
Darrin had slacks and a decent shirt.  We were taking Manny's charming
niece.

Planning to give him a speech about dance etiquette, I was cut short by
Darrin's lecture: "Don't hang out around the refreshments, Dad - you'll
probably spill then get all upset and start trying to clean everything.
Eat before we go."  He was probably right about that.

"And please don't wear your college sweatshirt or those plaid pants."  He
told me, with his index finger wagging in my face.  He didn't want me
talking to the moms who would come to chaperone, but I was allowed to talk
to teachers and coaches.  "No matter what they play, don't dance.  I have
enough problems to deal with now."

"What problems?"  I asked, entirely perplexed.

"Keeping my rep."  He answered.

My son had a reputation?  "Well, by all means, maintain your hall cred!"

But I did dance with that beautiful young girl, and we had cookies and
punch without any mishaps.  I talked to a few parents while Darrin rolled
his eyes, watching me from a gang of boys on the soccer team.  They stood
closely in the corner the entire evening, carefully guarding their "reps."

My lovely date and I had a memorable evening and I kissed the top of her
head as I left her at her door.  On the way home, I gave myself an A+ on
decorum.  Darrin gave me a D-; I barely passed his standards but had a good
time and my own rep to maintain.  Yep, I was the perfect example of a good
dad.

***


Something inside me was unsettled in my relationship with Darrin as the
semester passed.  A few of his behaviors seemed erratic and inconsistent.
I looked back and noted the times when Darrin asked for affection.  It
usually happened the first few hours he was with me on Fridays.  Sometimes
he was incredibly needy for touch and felt like an octopus on my lap.
Then, sometimes he was sullen and moved my hand away from him with a nasty
look on his face.

So, I started doing a check in the car.  "Still locking the bathroom door
when you shower?"  I'd ask him when I picked him up every Friday.

"Still own me, right?"  He'd usually give me one of his cute grins.

"Eight more years and not a minute sooner."  I gauged his moods that way.

Our informal Friday night classes continued no matter the mood - I
insisted.  Darrin got on my lap after dinner and asked where the paper was
- seemed he looked forward to our ritual, or maybe was just resigned to it.
Some lessons were more successful than others were, and I kept them short
unless Darrin had something else to discuss.

Each page began with a phrase.  We read the short story about how people
use the phrase, and when and why.  Then, I'd have him explain it back to
me.  I really liked the one, "My body is not your business."  We also
discussed the fact that other people's bodies weren't our business -
neither was their age, gender, the place they were born and personal
information.

Another night we labeled parts of women's and men's genitalia and colored
the drawings.  Darrin didn't confine himself to skin tones.  Vulvas could
be quite festive with the addition of yellow and orange stripes and green
circles.  Then he added tiny brown and red dots.

"What are those?"  I asked, pointing to the dots.

"Sprinkles - like on ice cream."

Interesting - sprinkles on labia.  I didn't tell him that would be an
incredible idea with the right woman.  My coloring page of a penis and
scrotum was simply anemic by comparison so I added a tattoo of a star and a
sun near the navel and posted them both on the refrigerator door.

The next week, secondary sexual characteristics were explained.  "See all
this hair?  You'll probably have the same."  I pulled off my tee shirt and
told him that his grandfather was equally bushy.

"Yeah?"  Darrin liked pushing his fingers though my chest hair, though that
was a risky behavior for me to allow; I always imagined him sucking my
nipples and got a raging hard-on thinking about it.  In a defensive
maneuver, I grabbed my phone and asked my dad to send a photo of his chest.

"Show him your rug, Dad."

Within a few moments, there was a picture of Dad - his chest now sported a
glistening white cloud of hair from his neck to his navel.  To me, he was a
beautiful man.

He captioned the photo, "Persian Rug!"  Several more followed with a note
saying that he would be glad to send more photos, but Mom was calling him.
I knew what that meant.  She loved his hairy body.

***


Sometimes questions from other chapters would come up, and we could talk
easily about our bodies and other people's behaviors.  We discussed health
and signs of illness or infections and different kinds of doctors and
nurses.  I had to be present at every medical exam and made that very
clear.  We talked about accidents and how to call 9-1-1 and what the
dispatchers would ask him.  I was learning as much as Darrin.

Continuing to fondle Darrin's groin, at his request, kept his interest
during our discussions, and I noticed his fingers often went to his nipples
as I rubbed and we talked.  When his nipple stimulation began it meant he
was losing interest - trumped by increasing sensual pleasures.  Success!
He wasn't ashamed or embarrassed at all.  Yeah, my face was probably
scarlet for several reasons when he did that.

Darrin's brief orgasms were still dry but lasted a few seconds longer as
the months wore on.  Beautiful moments of agony on his face when he
climaxed lit my heart.

Later in the year, when I stroked his growing cock, his hips began jerking
and his eyes closed.  His appreciation for deeper feelings of pleasure was
evident.  My little man was developing beautifully, and I considered my
strokes a way of telling him how much I loved him and cared for his body
and his spirit.  Of course, I made sure he got lots of kisses as his
pleasure passed.  Of course, my hands were offering him affection only when
he asked.  Of course, I tasted my young son's first pre-cum from my
fingertip and was silently ecstatic.

***


Saturday mornings occasionally brought his curious fingers back to my
briefs, and I took control over the situation, telling him that my body
wasn't his business. That retort was losing strength.  Our discussions
taught him to be much more assertive, though - now, I got flak.  "Not fair.
You touch me.  I want to touch you, I want to know what I'm going to look
like, and I want to see how you make sperm."

"Let's go pee."  I tried to distract him.

"Will you let me see?"  He looked up at me.

Sheesh, he looked so much like me I had to surrender, "But this is our
deepest secret.  We're not supposed to touch each other - some people would
call it sex.  Remember what the word `incest' means?"  When I said the word
`deepest,' I almost went weak for some reason.

"I don't want sex, I want to see and touch.  Show me."  He told me as he
pulled his briefs off and headed to the shower.  While we peed, I turned
the shower on, hurrying through this lesson.

"I usually rub one off in the morning when I shower.  Starts my day with a
smile."  He didn't get that - his attention was focused on my groin and his
own agenda.  So, I began washing myself, while his hand touched my scrotum.
Yeah, my penis was fully erect and straining.  I closed my eyes and began
stroking, knowing this was probably wrong, yet feeling incredibly excited
with his soft fingers exploring me.  My eyes snapped open when he touched
my foreskin and his fingertip stroked along my slit.  I stopped, watching
him, but my testicles pushed forward riding a tsunami of urgency.

"Can't wait!"  I said breathlessly.

At that moment his finger touched my slit, almost poking inside.  Then, he
looked up at me and it happened.  Oh, geez.  I couldn't stop.  Surges of
hot, whitish semen rushed upward and out, splattering past his fingertip,
hitting his cheek then his chin and chest.  Darrin gasped in surprise.

"I didn't mean for that to happen."  I was still breathing hard and started
to turn him to the spray to rinse him, but he stopped me and put his tongue
on my weakening erection and tasted the last few drips of cum.  My knees
trembled and my mind reeled as he considered the taste of my semen.

Then, he smiled, looked up at me and asked, "Is that what I'm gonna do?"

"Yeah, later on.  Wash up.  We're going out for breakfast."

"Where?"  Darrin grabbed the soap and moved his interest to thoughts of
waffles.

"Surprise."  Was all I said, but I could hear his thoughts mulling over
what he'd just seen.  I caught my breath as I watched him wash and made
sure he was entirely cum-free before he got out.  Mentally, I made showers
off limits with Darrin; my proclivities flamed and my will wasn't strong
enough.  I wanted to press his head toward me, forcing my dick into his
hot, sweet mouth.  God!  I wanted those sweet, red lips sucking me.

***


We met Manny and his family in the picnic area of the park.  His sister was
into self-sufficiency and we cooked bacon and eggs in small, brown paper
bags over a grill as a kind of a science/cooking class.  All the kids
assembled their own "breakfast bags" and started their bacon cooking, later
they'd add the eggs.  Good god!  Manny's sister nonchalantly let the kids
crack their own eggs - how irresponsible!

It was decided that I would handle the hot chocolate in an old
blue-speckled enamel coffee pot and did a fine job of stirring and pouring.
Why did they think a designer couldn't handle a more complex task?  Manny
got all the good jobs, like making toast on a little metal holder and
scooping jam and slicing bananas.  His performance was poor, the fruit
slices were irregular, but I didn't correct his erratic technique.  His
brother had the best job; stoking and regulating the fire.

While we ate at a public picnic table, we got the short course on toxic
plants and bug bites from Manny's sis, and then kids ran off to the
playground area.  I got to help clean up - another unchallenging task but I
found out later that Manny's family were checking out my domestic skills
and patience.  His brother gave me the nod of approval - in that moment I
was glad I hadn't gone into my obsessive behaviors and kept my mouth shut.

As I carefully bagged the trash, my mind returned again and again to an
imagined a bit of an eggshell in Darrin's belly, slashing into his tender
intestinal wall and causing peritonitis and a trip to the emergency room.
Potentially fatal!  When I suggested this scenario to Manny, he took me
aside, chuckling, put me on the end of a see-saw, got on the other end and
we went up and down with a team of kids helping us until I calmed down and
forgot about egg shells.  "Play therapy."

All in all, that was a great breakfast, and I asked if we could make the
graham cracker-chocolate bar-marshmallow dessert and hot dogs next time.
The kids decided it would happen next week in a roar - the other adults
grinned and nodded in the background.

Around our bonfire the next Saturday evening we cooked tofu hotdogs and
burned marshmallows on sticks.  For some strange reason, we couldn't find
the chocolate bars and half the graham crackers were consumed before the
hotdogs were cooked.  Oddly, the kids had brown smudges on their faces and
fingers - I let it go as the other adults smiled and nodded.  "Good job!"
They told me and chuckled.

Several packages of hotdogs and two burned fingers later, I learned that
children prefer not to use napkins at picnics, weenies don't need buns, and
plates were only for tossing like frizbees.  If you want more potato chips,
just stick your grubby hand in the bag and grab as many as you can stuff in
your mouth - a direct approach that made me shudder!

The cosmos taught me that campouts are for fun, not an exercise in sanitary
technique.  I was cleaning mustard spots and marshmallow goo from our
clothes for a week, but it was enjoyable with everyone singing around the
campfire and Manny playing his guitar as the moon rose.

Manny told me that was the most memorable cookout ever!  All the kids
thanked me and kissed me, with dirty faces and sticky hands.  Darrin was
proud I'd kept my cool, so I smiled and took my unsettling win.

We had more picnics and sleepovers - I adapted to the best of my ability;
Darrin seemed to have been born with an innate enjoyment of jumbled meals
outdoors and could fall asleep almost anywhere - anytime.

Sleepovers.  I hoped the universe would save me from another one of those.
Just the other day I found a half-eaten circus peanut behind a framed
photograph of my parents from the last over-nighter!  A new concept was
introduced into our lives for these affairs - "Dad Rules:"

1. No more than three people sleeping over with Darrin on the same night.

2. Shower before you come and sleep in your underwear.

3. All food must stay in the kitchen.

That last rule was consistently ignored.

***


Being a single parent was much easier with other trusted adults around, and
I actually enjoyed myself through the trials of "making memories happen."
Manny's family were a casual group, seldom griped or complained.  They
taught me about gratitude, and humility with their actions.  It was usually
Manny's sister that led the "memory moments," and her husband held the
video camera.

Darrin and I were included and treated like family through the fun - like
uncle and nephew or cousins of some degree.  I was grateful, especially for
Manny - he was a wealth of information on enacting the abstract concepts of
loving and being loved.  Love was more complicated than I thought with
boundaries, balance and timing.

He taught me, above all, to wait.  No rushing to judgment or anger -
parents are sources of wisdom for their children, not crazy reactions.
Slowly, I was learning to keep my values and beliefs at the fore when I
dealt with Darrin - no matter what happened.  Values and beliefs didn't
leave room for any of my "overkill" behaviors and neurotic thoughts.
Oddly, Manny was filling in a lot of blanks about adulthood I wasn't even
aware I had.

Parenting alone is a challenge - it was like trying to direct the ocean's
tides.  At times and I often felt completely out of control, but I held the
wheel firmly and simplified as much as I could.  After a while, my skills
became more stable; life was still messy, for sure, but Darrin and I had a
strong relationship.  Can't pinpoint the moment it happened, but I became a
loving father and I felt loved; Darrin was loved and a very loving boy.
That, I was very sure about.

***


One Saturday, Darrin helped me install a dartboard in the garage.  I asked
how he was getting on with his mother and her boyfriend.  He didn't answer
me for a long time.  Finally, I turned him to me but he wouldn't say
anything.

"What happened?  Did you two argue?"  I prompted him.  "We're supposed to
talk things out -- did someone lose their temper?"

"He comes in my bedroom at night and sits on my bed."  Darrin didn't look
at me.

That unexpected admission stunned me.  "Did you tell him to leave?"  I
asked.

"He says Mom can't pay the bills if he leaves, and he wanted to be my best
friend and teach me things."  Darrin looked away.  "He puts his hands on
me.  Then he put my hand on his pants..."

My face went red with anger, but I looked up at the ceiling, calming
myself, and then reached into my pocket for my phone.  Oh, yeah.  This
situation required a fast response.  Call it a reaction if you want, and I
was livid!  Getting my ex on the phone, I tried to stay calm.  "We're
changing the custody arrangements immediately.  My lawyer will be
contacting you on Monday.  The movers will be there on Tuesday."

"What are you talking about?"  She asked.

"My son will not be or coerced and certainly not assaulted by your pervy
friend.  I'm getting full custody and your visits will only be when you're
with your parents - and without your boyfriend who wants to be Darrin's
boyfriend, too."

"What?"  She said.

"Ask your boyfriend for the details from Darrin's bedroom, but you'd be
wise to accept my terms."  I didn't feel any better, but I had remained
collected.  I took a deep breath, readying for my next barrage.  "Do you
know what child endangerment charges are about?  If you don't -- you will.
I said no second chances.  Expect to hear from my lawyer."  I hung up.
Immediately, I called my lawyer and left a message for him to return my
call as soon as possible.

Darrin's eyes were huge.  "I'm gonna live with you all the time?"

"Yep.  I own you and you have to do what I say."  I looked into his eyes,
still stunned and trying to appear mature and in control instead of angry.

He hugged me as if he'd never let go.  That's when I realized I'd need a
babysitter, or some kind of after school program; packing lunches, all the
laundry, and a possible re-infestation...  And my beautiful, perfect son
would be safe with me, well, safer for sure.  If my son never saw or heard
anyone treating him like the precious person he is, he wouldn't know how to
do it for himself.

That phone call was a clear lesson on my values and my love for him.  When
I considered what I'd just done, I felt like I could succeed at full-time
parenting and committed myself to hobbling along doing the best I could -
whatever I was doing was working well enough to get us through that
predicament.

For some reason I got no fight from my ex.  That was tantamount to a
confession in my opinion.  Her boyfriend left shortly thereafter.  She was
prowling the market again I heard.  I wondered about her decisions and
behaviors - I wondered if she had been hyper-sexualized at an early age, it
seemed as though she was in the sex trade in some very sick way.  Was she
pimping herself to that geezer?  Was she bartering my son for some
financial security?  That workbook and Manny's conversations made a lot of
things very clear to me.  Darrin had escaped another close call.

But I set that all those thoughts aside - her issues where hers to deal
with.  I'd invested a million kisses and all my heart in my son - no way
would I jeopardize that.

***


Through the next few years, Darrin shot up like a skyrocket.  His shoulders
broadened, and we endured several jammed fingers, wrenched ankles, a small
wildfire of jock itch, sporadic patches of acne and ego bruises from his
teammates after missed plays.  We had our disagreements, usually about
traveling with his team.  I became something of an irritant to his coach,
and I traveled with them every game using my "outside whistle" all the
time.

Other disagreements we held till Friday nights and discussed them again.
Usually, a few days gave us time to cool off and find some middle ground or
alternative to butting heads about small things that only seemed big in the
moment.

Now, my once-neat home was too often strewn with broken sports equipment,
lonely, stained and unmated socks, and an occasional lost item from another
child.  A footlocker in the hallway became the gathering place for all the
extraneous items, and it salved my need for some order, well partially.

***


As Darrin was readying for high school he blossomed into a fine young man.
Fit, with a nicely squared jaw, dark hair and those beautiful hazel eyes,
and he moved with fluid grace I never enjoyed.  He was a quiet and
confident and his voice deepened - such rich tones!  His straight
silhouette carried pride in himself and I saw the young women gather around
him and flirt.  Mostly, he looked away, blushing and awkward around the
beauties.  But he handled things politely enough from what I heard.  His
relationships were his business, and I was curious, but kept my questions
to myself unless he asked for advice.  After all our Friday night
discussions, I trusted him to respect others.

Our relationship had deepened, and we were confidants on some topics.  Now
we researched online about sexually transmitted diseases and clear,
positive consent, things that were important for him to know.  One night,
we reviewed sexual positions from the Kama Sutra that led to researching
condoms.  He asked me if I had a vasectomy - why he didn't have a brother.

That brought a discussion about relationships, and I was able to admit that
sometimes, yes, I did want sex, but people practice their sexuality
differently through their lives.  Dating wasn't a major concern, and I
didn't want sex outside a deeply trusting relationship.  "Hand jobs and a
hot imagination are enough for now."  I didn't say anymore.

My imp grinned - he wasn't going to share my attention with anyone.  Stingy
kid and I really didn't want to share my time with anyone but him.
Together we made a loving family - just the two of us and occasionally his
grandparents.  Manny and his family became our closest kin and our lives
meshed together smoothly.  got used to all the kids coming and going
between our houses and actually enjoyed the different personalities of
Manny's nieces and nephews and their troupe of friends.  They were
imaginative and energetic and all making plans for college.  The
spontaneity of all the kids was fun, and they changed my life in a lot of
ways -- better than any medications I'd tried through the years.  Life
rocked on smoothly through the semesters and the holidays.

It took me all those years when Darrin was a child to calm down and enjoy
these little beings that made our lives worth living.  Yes, I loved my son
-- he was my very life.

***


I was able to keep my deepest desires in check, but barely, especially when
I saw Darrin's naked body in the hallway or on the way to the laundry room.
But the term "opportunist" would always jump into my thoughts, and I
remembered I wanted to love and be loved; I wanted Darrin to feel loved -
not used.

Okay.  Okay, I admit he had successfully seduced me into giving him oral
sex, and he returned the favor enthusiastically.  Still, that felt very
taboo, and I was ashamed of myself, though he encouraged me saying that it
was a "gift exchange."  A dad is human and humans can't be strong all the
time.  When I asked if he was taking advantage of my love for him, he
laughed!

"Yeah!"  He chuckled and hugged me.  "You gonna force me out on the streets
experimenting with some stranger?  C'mon, Dad."

What could I say to that?  I'm sure there were other options to his
manipulations, but he waited till he could catch me by surprise so I
couldn't think things out like Manny taught me.  Hard to concentrate on
options with a raging erection straining under an inquisitive teenager's
tender grasp.  Between gasps and fighting off the buzzing need to release
into his sweet mouth, Darrin's guinea pig, (me,) took a few moments to
instruct him on the importance of scrotal stimulation and appropriate
textures applied to the frenulum in relation to ejaculation. And then, when
I came in his mouth, it was like nuclear explosions from the core of my
being - I didn't want it to end.

I refused any form of ass fingering, knowing that was an immediate
addiction for both of us.  So I told him it would cause a "herniated
daeveptulum - damned bloody mess and incredibly painful.  You never shit
the same way again - if you can at all."

Darrin's eyes got big, and I kept the serious expression, and shook my
head.  "And there's no cure - fatal condition.  My god, the stink!  But
we'll get you though it the best we can with diapers and all that purple
medication staining your clothes..."  Yeah, I invented that malady in the
moment and it worked for about a week.  He couldn't find it on the internet
and wised up to my ruse.

Making his playful sexual assaults on me into a lesson didn't relieve much
guilt - but I'd tried.

Prostate massage experiments were nixed completely.  I posted a big detour
sign in his mind when he showed me the videos he'd found online.  "No way!
You're going to have to wait.  You'll survive -- a chapped prostate can
take years to heal."  Rightfully so, he didn't believe that, but I weakened
and bought him an adult toy that became his best friend for several months.
I made sure he had rechargeable batteries after the first week.  From
across the hall in my bedroom, his orgasms with his toy sounded
earthshakingly strong and completely bliss-filled - they went on and on.
Jerking off to his moans was a pleasure; depressing that hadn't been
introducing him to such depth of ecstasy, but a pleasure I enjoyed
intensely and sadly alone like a good dad.  Dammit!

The workbook we'd studied did help shape his perspective toward a rational,
calm way to move through the chaos of teen life.  My parenting developed
nicely and matured into a good place for us.  The allure of drugs and
criminality weren't evident Darrin's life.  He wanted to build himself into
an engineer or a programmer but was considering microbiology.

Seemed to me like he was edging toward becoming an excellent lover as well
- he was open-minded, candid and had a sparkling sense of humor.

***


Nearing his eighteenth birthday, I asked how he wanted to celebrate.  I'd
considered a party for some of his buddies - plenty of food and sodas and a
dart tourney in the garage, if they wanted - maybe a trip to the beach with
a bonfire and music.  "Get Manny's family and go to the water park for the
day?"  I asked.

Out of the blue, he said he wanted me to save the money - he wanted us to
fly back home to visit my parents - half way around the world in Isfahan.
Sure, I agreed to the trip, "But I'd like to do something special to mark
the day I don't own you anymore.  Celebration of manumission."

He said he'd think about it, but that he liked me owning him.  "It always
feels good, the way you love me and take care of me."

My heart almost burst when he said that.  I'd done it right!  But I knew
the day would come when he would find a lover to own him in a less parental
way.  "Well, just remember that when you have children."  He smirked and
hugged me.

After dinner that night Darrin was helping me load the dishwasher, "Some of
the guys were talking at school...  Um, rites of passage and all...  I
don't know if you'll like this idea, but I want sex for my birthday.
Trey's uncle took him to a place outside Las Vegas."

"That's an old tradition among some cultures."  I thought.  "And not in my
culture!"  On the other hand, he'd been honest and that request took a lot
of guts. Trying to remain calm, "Any kind of sex in particular?  Any
special partner or several?"  I chuckled, salving the sting of his
surprising request.

"Real, full-blown sex.  You know."  He said quite seriously.  "Adult sex."

Darrin was sexually active by himself and had tricked me into the oral sex
"lessons" but didn't show much interest in dating.  Then, dating is
expensive and he only worked several hours a week at the rec center.  Do
you have someone in mind?"  I asked, thinking of some of the beauties he
went to school with.

There was a long pause in our exchange.

"I want to make love with a man."  He said softly and looked away.

"Oh.  Okay."  My mind spun, it must have taken a lot of courage to say
that.  "Are you a virgin?"  I asked considering a possible infection or
medical condition -- my obsession of choice.

"You know I am."  He said, looking away.  "I would have told you."

"Are you gay?"  My voice was solid, but I was shaking inside, needing
complete clarification.

"I think so."  He turned to leave the kitchen.  "I shouldn't have asked."

"Come back.  You can't drop that kind of news on me and walk away from the
man who still owns you for the next month, and who wants your heart
forever."

"Dad, you know I love you."  He said, still looking aside.  "You'll always
have my heart."

I took him in my arms.  "If you want sex with a man, I'll try to make it
happen, but I have some really strict rules."  I tried buying time to
figure out how to make some of this conversation un-happen.

After a few moments, he looked at me and grinned.  "Really?  What rules?"

I'd shot my mouth off without thinking that through - he'd given me another
surprise attack.  "Um - well, you have to use a condom and no drugs.  A
glass of wine, maybe.  No rough stuff and no toys or ropes.  Got to check
this guy out for any infections - maybe get him a physical...  And I want
to be with you and kiss you when it happens.  I want to kiss into complete
adulthood."

To my surprise he grinned and agreed.  "Cool!"  Well, my impromptu rules
didn't slow his freight train into Deflower City.

"Did you have someone particular in mind?"  I asked thinking of Trey or
another teammate he liked.

"Yeah."  Darrin grinned.  "The best guy in the world."

"Does he have a name?"  I asked.

Darrin didn't answer but blushed a deep scarlet.  I asked Darrin again
about a specific male as his gift.  He just looked away, "He'd never
agree."

"Okay.  But I'm making no hard promises - I'll do the best I can."  I said,
trying to act unruffled, but I was in deep trouble.  Maybe I could find a
male sex doll.  But I'd never heard of one.

Maybe I could use a female sex doll and glue a dildo and a beard...  Nah.
That would probably frighten the hard-ons out of him or send him into some
kind of trauma-induced episode.

***


I went to the internet listings of available men seeking sex.  They were
strangers, and I called a few, but they sounded coarse or slick - my son
needed a tender lover, gentle and understanding, not a "dom" anything not a
"sub" in any form.  Most of them turned me down when I said I wanted sex
for my son while I was present.  That must have sounded like some kind of
sting operation - they asked if he was my real son and wanted proof.  They
wanted me to send copies of our photo IDs!

What could I do?  I was ready to ask them for a physical and STD screening
and perhaps my own personal examination.  When I emailed a few, I found
they had commercial sites, and their photos were rather intimidating.  They
posted some incredible activities and rates.  Nevada was looking like an
option - I researched the ranch...  More of the same rough trade, in my
opinion - the faces were hard and sharp it seemed.

I'm not a cheap man, but it felt less than loving to procure a prostitute
for my beloved son.  Finally, I called Manny and explained my situation,
carefully dodging the specifics.  Manny was silent, waiting for me to
gather the courage for candor.  "Manny, he wants sex with a man for his
birthday.  He thinks he may be gay."

We met after work for a few minutes and Manny loaned me his broad shoulder
to lean on until I adjusted my mind to the entirety of my situation.  It
didn't bother either of us that Darrin was gay or could be.  It was
acquiring Darrin's gift that was upsetting me.  I should never have agreed
to it.  Never!  But I did - what the hell had gotten into me?  "How am I
going to back out of this one?"  I asked Manny.

Manny was chuckling.  "Let's think about it - you may have to renegotiate
the whole affair and I don't think you can deal this away with an ice cream
cake and a balloon bouquet."

My conflicts were about my offering my son sex with a man as a gift - I was
objectifying another human being, and yet I wanted Darrin to feel the full
pleasure of being in another's arms and enjoy that deep, warm satisfaction
afterward.  There wouldn't be any love involved and I'd taught Darrin that
sex happens inside a loving, trusting relationship.

Then, there was my darkest, sickest desire: I wanted to be the one to
introduce my son to sex in our loving relationship.  I kept that craving
hidden and secured inside me but it was a feverish, hungry beast that
twisted and turned in my chest since Darrin asked for what he wanted -
since I'd shown him how to masturbate.

Manny hugged me on the parking lot before we left.  "Give me a few days.
There may be a man in my family who would - but I don't think so.  They
probably couldn't get over the gay stigma and all that.  Then, with you
being there.  Gonna be hard to create the scenario you want.  The whole
thing smells really kinky."

***


Darrin went online and started researching travel arrangements for visiting
my family in Persia.  Recently the legal bans were lifted and the paperwork
had changed.  Through all the visa bureaucracy and Darrin's end of semester
activities, my stomach stayed tense.  Yeah, I asked to renegotiate Darrin's
birthday gift, "I'm running out of ideas - safe ideas."

I thought he would be disappointed, but Darrin nodded his head in
acknowledgement and grinned.  "Dad, how about just you and me?  We could
make a dinner together with a glass of wine."

"I want this to be special."

"My Friday nights with you are always special."  Was all he said.

***


Manny agreed to give Darrin the sex he wanted, as something of a loving
uncle or family friend after I'd begged and pleaded.  I would have paid him
but couldn't bring that up - it would make Manny the "family whore" when he
was my respected and cherished friend.  "Celebratory sex" sounded better.
That didn't quell my upsetness and Manny didn't seem too enthusiastic yet
promised to do his best.  "Let's see if I can remember how to date again."
He gave me a crooked smile.

The Friday night of Darrin's birthday I told him his lover would arrive at
seven, so we had to make dinner.  As we made the salad, Darrin kept
grinning.  "This is gonna be good."  He said.

"What you're going to do first?"  I asked him.

"Well, I'm going to make some small talk - ask him what he did when he was
my age, smile a lot and move in for some kisses.  Then some touches..."  He
looked at me.  "Sound good?"

"Yep."  My heart shattered, but I kept that to myself.  "So, Eskimo,
butterfly or French?"  I asked, layering the cheese and meat into the
lasagna.

"Well, just cheek-kisses, then a few near his lips - then French."  Darrin
said, "I guess - I'll see what happens."

"Start off with some kisses on his neck.  Go for his erogenous zones
first."  I suggested, and then I turned to Darrin, "Let me show you."
Embracing him, I lifted his chin and kissed him softly, "Be gentle and
listen to his breathing.  If his pulse quickens, and his breath is
irregular, move forward."  Couldn't help myself, I grabbed his head and
began kissing his cheeks and eyelids, and then I came to his lips to find
his tongue quickly seeking mine.  Don't know how long we stood there
kissing passionately and feeling our erections rubbing against the other
through our jeans.

"Dad, your face is red."  He broke our kiss and grinned.

"Kisses do that."  I tried explaining my coloration without a detailed
revelation, as if my kid was ignorant.  He knew exactly what he was doing
with another man.

"How do I get him up to the bedroom?"  Darrin asked as he buttered the herb
bread and wrapped it.

"Ask him if he'd like to go to the bedroom - or maybe if he'd like to get
more comfortable."  Tears burned my eyes.  "Be yourself, he's here to
please you tonight."

"What if he says no?"  Darrin said.

"No one could turn you down, now go get a shower and rinse your - well,
your rear.  Do you know how?"  I'd done my homework.

"I already did."

That statement knocked the air out of me.  This was the little boy whose
scrotum I'd fondled, and who had to watch me cum, the teen who'd roped me
into his experimentation and now I was offering him to a friend?  The
natural progression of our sexual interchanges was being unnaturally
disrupted tonight.

Ethics and propriety, values and integrity can be so damned painful
sometimes.  Heartbreakingly painful and I ached to my core.

***


At about seven fifteen, Mike arrived looking better than he ever did at
work in a skin-tight stretch shirt and tight jeans.  His nipples were
clearly outlined through the thin stretch fabric.

"How brassy!"  I thought.  "Should have worn a vest and a sport coat...  A
suit, at least."

Manny carried a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of apricot liqueur for
Darrin.  I went to the kitchen and let them talk, but I heard Manny kiss
him.  There were a few soft words and thanks.  They wandered to the kitchen
for a vase, and Darrin showed me the liqueur.  "Look!  We're going to have
a drink!"

Alcohol was new for Darrin - I'd kept our house free of any potential
problems.  I found some tiny glasses for their aperitif.  Then, I smiled
and nodded and went to the sink to wipe my eyes and blow my nose.

During dinner, Manny and Darrin cleaned their plates and asked for seconds.
My stomach wasn't ready for any food.

They prattled on about school and college while I was becoming more
bitterly sullen by the moment.

***


In an effort to give my son his celebration into an adult sexual being -
something inside me froze; all the birthday joy absented itself completely
from me.  Jealousy strangled my debonair charm - if an old, worn out dad
can feign such magic.  Darrin was in training to be some lucky jerk's lover
probably sooner than later.  I'd be abandoned, pushed into the shadows -
just background noise in his life, like muzak in an elevator on the way to
the dentist.

My long-suppressed proclivities - mixed with my impending loss stewed up a
big pot of self-pity in my chest making my breaths almost painful.  "Why
don't you two go into the living room and tell a few secrets about me?"  I
stood and began clearing the dishes, loading the dishwasher and mourning my
son's deflowering by a family friend.  My son - flesh of my flesh...  My
own heart and now foisted to a family friend for one of the biggest
milestones of his life.

Those moments alone allowed enough time for my old habits to return; my
anxiety and obsessive-compulsive thoughts roared back like an army laying
siege on my sanity and they were led by my sickest proclivities.  I could
feel myself losing control over my brain; helpless and stranded from
non-reactive behaviors, but I had to maintain control.

Worries formed a queue in my brain, then organized themselves into legions
of painful thoughts -- no insistence but by force alone they crowded out
any sane maneuverings I could summon to control them.

As the evening moved forward.  Envy, perversion, fear, anger and
self-loathing and a million specific regrets and recriminations quickly
replaced my loving thoughts for my son.  I smelled my own sour desperation
beginning to ooze from my body.  Phew!

The celebration I'd planned for Darrin was turning into a vile gyre - a
rush of sweat surged as I wondered if Manny was too well endowed for
Darrin.  What could I do?  Pull a ruler out and ask everyone to wait while
I measured?  How the hell was I going to measure Darrin's sweet ass?  I'd
find a way - I could eyeball it well enough...

"And I should have put `no biting' on my rule list."  I mulled.  "No hard
pinching, biting or hickies or hair-pulling and manual pube removal should
have been prohibited as well."  My obsessions slipped into overdrive.

I had to go upstairs, take a shower and lay out some clean towels for my
son and his first full-fledged lover.  They'd probably need to clean up
after the flame of his passionate initiation.  But a paternal thought
stopped me - I wondered if they'd cry out or get loud.  Hmmm.  Quickly, I
nixed the idea of recording the evening.  Where would I keep that video -
the last page in Darrin's baby book?  Maybe, though, this was video worthy.
No.  I didn't really want a video of Manny's hairy butt near Darrin's baby
photos.

In the living room, I heard glasses tinkling and smelled the liqueur again.
They were sitting next to each other on the couch, chuckling and whispering
- syrupy, fructified kisses exchanged gently.  Manny seemed to be enjoying
himself caressing Darrin's cheek and Darrin, quite the coy little imp,
fluttered his eyelashes along Manny's neck.

Then it went silent, I found their reflection in the glass stereo cabinet.
Kissing deeply in a close embrace - looked French from my vantage.  Dammit!
It was only 8:30 - they should have had more conversation, some kind of
joking around - a little manly banter.  Intimacies require more
familiarity.

Why didn't I give Manny a schedule?  Should have told Darrin to take it
slow; Manny was moving way too fast for an eighteen-year-old.  He should
know better!  Maybe I could tap Manny on the shoulder and tell him to take
it easy or pass him a note discretely written on a coaster.  "Slow down
rocket man!"  But wait - that might insult him - and it could be Darrin
pushing this forward at light speed.  Closing my eyes, I remembered
Darrin's kiss that afternoon; my erection throbbed as I breathed deeply
trying to relax.

***


I tiptoed up the stairs after noticing they were all the way into groping
groins on the couch so I distracted myself by lighting candles in my
bedroom, surrounding my big bed where I'd held my son so many nights while
his muscles and bones grew, molecule by molecule; cell by cell.  So many
nights when I'd considered kissing my boy and treating him like a lover,
but he was only a kid - not my plaything, my "loneliness eliminator," or a
quick ego stroke.  So many nights I'd hammered my lust and frustration into
patient admiration for my beautiful man-child to keep him strong inside
himself.  Our bed.

"Not tonight, old man!"  My sick thoughts screamed in unison.  "Your friend
is teaching your son the most important lessons of his life - just desserts
for passing by so many juicy opportunities."  My latent tendencies hit like
a full body slam, followed by a rush of sweat from my guilty conscience,
furthered by recalling my incestual thoughts through the years.  And I
couldn't leave; couldn't move my body from my bed.  Couldn't stop these
crazy, conflicted thoughts either!

The possibility of a panic attack and possible nervous hives jumped into my
head; I closed my eyes and took ten slow breaths to calm myself.  I knew it
wouldn't help.  So, I resigned myself to waiting in the bed for them,
feeling something of an intruder, but wanting to feel my sweet son's body
when he was penetrated, to kiss him into his adulthood with all the love I
could give him.  I wondered if he would tremble or if he would cry...
Precious tears I needed to taste.  Of course, I knew his first penetration
might hurt, and I was doing this for me as well - a loving ease over our
threshold together.

"It's your job!  Your duty!  A real father's responsibility!"  All the
important things were my job, my inner-perv grabbed the microphone and
screamed inside my head.  This would be my last duty before my hero, my
pure-hearted, brave young man turned away from me and toward the world.
This had to be my obligation -- yes obligation!  It was my duty to bring
him into complete adulthood.  My stomach was turning and my body was rigid,
still oozing the smell of a desperate, conflicted and pained man who
wanted, above all to remain a good dad.

***


I heard Manny speaking softly as they came up the stairs.  They stopped,
probably to kiss, several times.  When they came in the bedroom, they were
grinning, and began undressing each other with plenty of fondling and
whispering.

They ignored me.  My sick mind was working overtime but stopped in surprise
by the simple acts unfolding in front of me in the flicker of the
candlelight.  Geez, Manny was a beautiful man when naked, I wondered if
Darrin would appreciate his wide shoulders and smooth skin; his musk that
now filled the room.  His groin sported a fine, thick shaft from a dark
bush with heavy, dark balls that swung as he leaned and stroked Darrin;
relaxed and confident strokes in just the right places...  He was gorgeous,
but his physical maturity made my Darrin's equipment seem small and pale in
comparison.  The tape measurer was in the junk drawer in the kitchen...  I
held myself back.

They left the bathroom door ajar, thank god.

My son moaned several times in ecstasy as the shower ran.  I heard Manny
speaking sternly to him, and then they chuckled.  Manny was teasing my son!
Sexual play.  Hmmm.

Maybe I could suggest a word game before the big event and use some
well-chosen phrases to slow their passion - bring this affair within the
speed limit.  Nah.  Trey had stolen too many letters from our Scrabble game
- had to glue his name on his locker for his junior year.  Maybe hangman...
Pencils, paper...  I'd keep score.  The only term I could conjure was
"Hasty Pudding."  As I counted out the letters on my fingers and I realized
that concept could cause the opposite effect I was trying to create!

My textual attempt to slow the evening was disrupted mid-plan when I heard
Darrin tell Manny to suck him.  Tears filled my eyes when I heard Darrin
moaning and asking for a bite.  All things holy!  That caused the sensation
of a lightning bolt to strike between my testicles!  Then, I heard the door
to the medicine cabinet squeak open.  The plastic lid of the coconut oil
clinked on the ceramic sink.  Hushed conversation, and I heard Manny ask
for more, deeper.  They were oiling each other.  Damn!  That must be so
arousing.  Intimate, erotic preparations building their sexual tension; my
breathing quickened.

Irrational thoughts kept circling like harpies -- stinging with unspoken
jabs to my heart.  Incoming images kept playing in my mind creating a
moist, flesh-colored blitzkrieg of Darrin's sweet package though the years.

Bodies...  Manny's cleft was probably hairy - did he shave back there?  It
would be the civil thing to do for my son's first time.  Images of
disposable razors and antibiotic soap ran through my head followed quickly
by the fingernail brush...  a good hard scrubbing would suffice.  Then I
stopped - hell, even I wouldn't agree to that.

From the sounds of things, Manny was enjoying Darrin's ministrations,
crying out often.  They were probably slinging pre-cum all over the
bathroom by now.  Wait!  Maybe they were sucking each other while they
applied the oil.  That mental image almost blew the top of my head off!  I
had to slow my breaths as my ears strained for more information.

But this was self-torture, to imagine their sensual pleasure yet I couldn't
stop myself.  I ached for that sensual play with my son and I was here for
one special kiss - then I'd leave them to sate their lust at least several
more times before sunrise.

***


When they came to the bedroom again, naked and smiling, Darrin looked at
me, and got into the bed next to me, kissing my cheek.  "Thanks, Dad - this
is great."  He held my head and turned me to him giving me a very
passionate kiss.  "Will you kiss me when I cum, too?"  I could only smile
as all my internal organs quivered and a sudden ache for the taste of his
semen seared my tongue.  I gathered him in my arms, our erections rubbing,
and pre-cum surging, making our bellies slippery between us.

Manny snuggled in behind Darrin and held both of us warmly.  My neurotic,
obsessive thoughts quieted with the touch of Darrin's skin inside Manny's
embrace.  That was incredibly calming to my spirit but electrifying to my
groin.

"Daddy Bear, will you help?"  Manny asked.

"Daddy Bear?"  That must be me.  "What?  Sure."  I hadn't expected to
participate.  Manny instructed me to lie on my back with Darrin on top of
me, pressing our erections together hard.

"Massage his ass."  Manny handed me the lube.  "Reach around - help him
relax."

Darrin put his arms around my neck, "I love you Dad."

"Crumb-bum!  Crumb-bum!"  My zany neuroses chanted, "You only get the
crumbs."  My testicles decided that crumbs were quite sufficient in that
moment.

I could feel Manny push my thighs apart, then Darrin's.  He leaned over and
I felt the stubble of Manny's face pressing on my fingers as I held Darrin
open for his first rimming.  Though that had never happened to me, I could
imagine that was extremely rich stimulation.  I stopped breathing feeling
Manny's stubble, Darrin's tender skin and that wet, strong tongue and
tender lips insistent on kissing every inch of Darrin's tender cleft.

Manny kissed places that made Darrin moan loudly into my neck while his
body trembled.  My fingers groped into Darrin's anus opening him further
for Manny's tongue.

"It's so good."  Darrin paused, breathing hard.  "Don't make me wait,
Manny."  My erection surged what felt like half a gallon of pre-cum when I
heard my son ask for penetration.

Manny just pressed his face harder into Darrin's cleft, and I felt Darrin
lift his butt for more.  "Use your fingers."  Manny ordered me and pushed
my middle finger to Darrin's anus, then inside.  Oh, yeah, I enjoyed
kissing my son and feeling him respond to my fingers inside his rectum
exploring -- searching for his most sensitive place.  In my mind, I could
imagine feeling his moisture around my shaft, and feeling myself pushing my
heat-seeking erection into him deeply.

Further, deeper.  Then, I found the place that excited Darrin - his body
tensed and I felt oozes of moisture between us as he groaned and jerked.

"More!"  Darrin demanded and bit my neck!  His hips bucked and hunched, his
breath jerked between moans and he trembled, then he let me kiss him as his
rushes of hot semen pulsed between us.  Beautiful orgasm, right on top of
me.  Suddenly, my testicles released everything, all at once, under
pressure, while I held my son against me and his lips at mine.

I felt woozy and almost completely satisfied - I wanted this all for
myself.  My obligation -- my duty; my responsibility.

***


We stayed like that for a long time, and I hadn't heard anything from
Manny, though he was still behind Darrin.  I could hear him sighing
occasionally.  Finally, Manny dropped onto the bed beside me.  "Can't get
it up.  When I get it up, I can't keep it up."  He looked into my eyes.
"I'm sorry."

"Let me hold you."  I offered and kissed his cheek.  My hand went to his
soft, unresponsive tool.  We tried that, but he began trembling.  "Stop, I
can't.  Not because I don't want to; I do.  Everything inside me wants
to..."

I put my arm around him and kissed his cheek.  "Let's wait for a while."

Darrin watched us intently.  I took Manny in my arms and kissed him,
stroking his shoulders and back.  "Such a wonderful man," I whispered.  "Do
you know how much we love you?"  Stroking him very gently, I kissed him
softly and told him what an exceptionally masculine body he had, and
suggested we make hot chocolate, hoping to distract him from performance
anxiety.

But Manny did something surprising: "Darrin, exactly when is your
birthday?"  He asked.

"Tomorrow."

"I'll let you two work this out for yourselves in the next hour and fifteen
minutes."  Manny said and stood up.

It was 10:45!  "Consenting adults!"  I calculated and grinned.

Manny began dressing, "I'll let myself out."  I stood, embraced him and
kissed him; I thought I felt his erection but he backed away and said he
loved us both, and left.

***


When I heard the door shut downstairs, all the crazy thoughts left with
him.  My head was quiet and my heart was calm.  I turned to Darrin and held
him.  "Will you let me love you the way I've wanted for so long?"

"I've been waiting all my life."  He told me.

Two surprised virgins had a slightly confused few seconds, but the
satisfaction of complete surrender to each other was deep and drew us
closer together.  Our touches became spiritual sparks; a soul-soaring
exchange of all our unspoken love.  Completion.  My son's straight, hard
erection brought out a new appreciation for a kind of sex I'd never known
and he'd always wanted.  His enthusiasm and my inexperience didn't benefit
my anus, but the feeling of fullness was incredible, and to feel him bury
his glans deep inside me and give me hot bursts of his cum was more than
I'd ever imagined it could be.  The first time he came inside me, I was
blissed-out on the pleasure and profound intimacy -- didn't want it to end.
But it did.  Why did feel like sorrow when his young dick slipped out of
me?

We kissed, embraced and explored each other into the night, and as the sun
rose, I rolled him to his back and lifted his feet to my shoulders.  "I
love you more than you know."  As gently as I could, I placed my glans at
his sweet hole and felt a sudden, metallic surge of confidence.  Pride;
obligations fulfilled.  I pushed once and felt him pushing against me like
the most delicious kiss I'd never had before.  In.  Inside him.  Looking
down, his eyes were wide.  His first penetration.  I waited for a moment,
then slid further inside.  He moaned, eyes closed.  The band of muscles
behind my corona tightened; I gasped and he smiled, eyes still closed.  Had
to take it slow, I was already on the edge of exploding inside him...  Had
to close my eyes until I was fully encased by his velvety heat.  Moving my
hips, I explored him to find more tender, heated places that pushed me
toward a hard cum.  I stopped, but Darrin looked up at me:

"More, Dad.  I want it all."  His eyes were pleading for more of me.

Like a jackhammer, my hips began pumping my rod into him.  He grabbed his
thighs behind his knees lifting his butt higher, then his gasping moans
began with every breath.  I felt my balls pull up tight and knew the rushes
were coming...  "Aaang."  I was frantically pumping everything inside me
into him.

His eyes popped open and I watched his cum spattered across his chin and
face.  Beautiful!

I fell in a heap on top of him.  Relaxing underneath me, he wrapped his
arms around me for several moments.  Lifting my head, I licked his cum from
his face and kissed him with it.  No words could describe how passionate
that was; extreme endearment, beyond closeness.  We made one body together
as we lay in the smells of the unbelievably pleasurable work of making
love.

We were both like newlyweds into the next few days.  I couldn't plow enough
of my seed into him when he begged me to go deeper and harder inside him.

I found a new, incredibly rich satisfaction with Darrin deep inside me.  I
couldn't get enough of him.  The smell of his body brought me halfway to
orgasm, and then the touch of his glans against my hole made me shake.  My
anticipation alone made me tremble when he kissed me while eruptions of
semen jumped from my erection so hard and fast I would feel like passing
out.  My god!  I wanted him, had him and still it wasn't enough - my lust
screamed for more.

Finally, on Monday morning, I watched him sleeping peacefully and accepted
the fact that he had to move forward in his own adulthood, and I was
satisfied that we had been more intimate than most fathers and sons, and in
a lot of ways, more intimate than most lovers ever imagine.  We'd been
completely honest and weren't ashamed.  Incredible rewards of relief and
satisfaction filled the places that only hours ago had ached.

***


Manny and I both blushed when we met at work several days later.  "What was
that `bear' business about?"  I said softly.

"Are you kidding?"  He smiled, tapped my chest with his pen and continued
copying some papers.

 I grinned and told him he was a fox, timing things the way he did.
"Thanks.  Everything turned out perfectly."

Surprisingly, he told me he hadn't timed anything. "Darrin told me that he
was grateful that I'd volunteered and asked me if it was wrong for him to
want to make love with you."  Manny looked up at the ceiling and exhaled,
then looked at me.  "I just got out of his way - he has excellent taste in
men."

A long, stinging silence fell between us.  "I tried - he wanted you."  He
stood near and whispered.  "It got too, um, well - complicated for me."

I wanted to kiss Manny and thank him, but I could only manage a blush and a
smile.  "You must think I'm some kind of - you know."

"You're a good dad."  He looked into my eyes.  "You've raised a very good
man."

***


Manny and his brother showed up for Darrin's graduation, and took photos
and videos.  It was a hot afternoon, but good time.  The ex showed up with
her new "john" and we were all polite enough for the ceremony.  Darrin
would be leaving for the state university in the fall and explained to
Manny about the different activities and clubs that excited him while we
lunched a lakeside cafe.

Yep, Darrin was going into microbiology.  Nope, I didn't mention that
global elimination of pinworms might earn a Nobel - or at least my eternal
gratitude.

More photos and hugs when Manny dropped us off at the airport for our visit
with my parents.  "Don't know what I'm going to do without him.  My
parenting is over, and I feel like someone just shut that high-voltage
teenage electricity off and the house is going to be dark and cold forever.
But it was one hell of a ride.  Thanks for all your help - you've been a
big part of it."  I told him as we walked toward the gate.

"The parenting will change, but it'll always be there."  He said and
winked.

"You're too good to me, Manny."  To my surprise, I kissed his cheek and
gave him a quick squeeze.

***


I sent Manny photos of Darrin in the Shahi Bazaar and the Khaju Bridge, and
Darrin in front of every ancient mosque, minaret and museum in Isfahan.
Mom and Dad took us out and we celebrated almost every night.  Seems years
and distance had softened some of their beliefs and they were much more
relaxed.  Time and distance had mellowed me, as well.  We thoroughly
enjoyed each other as the great humans we were.

More than several times I wished Manny was with us.

We stopped in Greece on the way home and Darrin sent Manny a photo of
himself in his new European bathing trunks, a very immodest, though
alluring speck of cloth that allowed a crimson sunburn.  Parenting
continued as I dabbed the medication on his sweet groin and backside for
the next few days.  I had to admire the darkening trail of hair on Darrin's
torso, the whorls around his nipples while I did that.  We did enjoy the
beach and a little too much Retsina as well as our anonymity on that
island.  Enjoyed it enough to stay several days longer; no sun involved.

Later I got a text from Manny with some pictures from the graduation, and
an invitation for a welcome home dinner - lasagna, salad and maybe an
aperitif.  "My house at around seven?"

Immediately, I texted back and waited for him to give me the date.  Of
course, I said that Darrin would be busy that night, "but I'd love to have
dinner with you again," and grinned.


Fin.


A Good Dad