Date: Mon, 16 Jul 2018 20:57:26 -0600
From: Rocky Hawkins <justwriting@soniq.org>
Subject: The YMCA part 4 - Last one

Title: The YMCA (Part 4 - Final)


Author's Note:

This story is told as a fantasy, and I won't tell you that there is any
truth to it. But, as narrator and protagonist, I am not really that
creative. So, you can decide if I made it up or not...

I love email and feedback, so let me know if you like this one!

DISCLAIMER:

The following content may contain detailed descriptions of sexual
interactions between a minor and adult. If the laws in your place of
residence or your religious beliefs make it illegal or wrong to read such,
do not continue. If this type of content offends you, do not continue.

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========================================================

This is part four of my story. You may have read it already in part one or
two, but in case you didn't, here's a recap.

My name is Dade Murphy.  It's 1994, and I am 14 years old. I've lived in
more towns than I can count, and I am on my 6th school.  My father is Drill
Sgt. Ronald Murphy, and he found out that I had been spending my free time
after workouts at the YMCA with Rick.

Rick. The first man I've seen naked at the gym. Rick. The man who chose to
shower next to me. Rick. The man who got me to admit I liked guys. That I
liked him. Rick.

The man who took my virginity.


But today is not a workout day. Today is a day I've been dreading, for
reasons I can only imagine. You see, he knows about what Rick and I did. He
has names for 'guys like me.' He saw them all the time in the Service. And
from our drive to the old farm earlier this week, I was pretty sure he
hated me. Or, hated what I was. But, you know, that's the problem with my
Dad. He never 'loves' anything. He never 'hates' anything. Like, you'd
never hear him say, "I love that spaghetti, honey!" - No, of course
not. It's always, "Good meal, wife. Thanks." Respectful, but never
emotional.

Don't get me wrong. He gets angry. Or happy. Or celebratory. It's just
always too... regimented. I can't ever read him.

And so, when I was given an ultimatum, I found myself stuck. He wanted me
to change. He wanted me to renounce the best thing I've experienced in my
life. He... wanted me to stop being gay. To stop liking the man who I'm
falling for.  To change who I was and be more like him. Or, at least, more
like how 'guys are supposed to be'.

"Two types," he said. Firmly.  "Two. Types." Nothing else mattered. He said
no matter if they are married and straight. They could be Army or
Police. He even said Priests. There are only the two types. Guys like
him. And guys. Like. Me.

And here I was, alone in the house with him for the first time. He had
given me 2 days, Thursday and Friday, to break it off with Rick. He said,
"You can change if you want, Dade. You can be a man. It starts with being a
man and telling that 'Rick' that you won't let him use you again."

And I couldn't do it. I listened behind my door as Dad carried her bags
down, packed the car. I sat in silence as they drove off to the airport. It
was only a matter of time before I had to give my Dad an answer. The time
was now.

The front door opened. My father was back. I heard him set the keys on the
counter. I started to shake when I heard the smack of the refigerator.

"Dade! Front and center!" he called.

I sat up, and trembled as I reached for the door to my room. I crept down
the hall, like I was sneaking out or something. Down the stairs, each one
creaking like they were talking about me. My eyes began to vertigo as I
focused on the bottom step. I had no idea what was next.

And then, a familiar sound. "So, he's got me in this headlock, and I'm
blinded by this mud we'd been rollin' around in, and- there he is," My
dad's army buddy, Major Randall, or 'Becky' as she has me call her now, was
leaning against the door frame of the kitchen. "haven't seen ya at the gym
in a couple days, thought I would swing by,"

As I approached, she playfully knocked my on the shoulder, and I shrugged
at it, a small smile on my lips as a courtesy. I was still freaked out
about what dad was gonna do to me.

I hadn't seen my dad yet, as there was a wall between the stairs and the
kitchen. "Yeah," he snickered, "I've been keeping him here for a couple
days. Seems like you got quite the fan club rooting for you, there, huh?
Come on in here, have a seat at the table."

My mind played tricks on me as I rounded the corner. Sitting at the other
end of the table, Rick casually laughed with him and sipped a beer. A cough
caught his throat as his glance met mine. He wasn't expecting me. He
coughed a small bit, but recovered quickly. My eyes went wide, and my heart
stopped.

"Yeah, so Rick, buddy," my father continued, handing Becky a beer. "This is
my boy- Dade. The Major's been giving him quite a workout lately."

Dad turned his body, and came between me and Becky. "No sense in standing
around," he urged. "You'all have a seat."

Oblivious to the situation, Becky flopped into the oversized chairs at the
table, my father taking the other side. That left only one seat, and that
was directly across from Rick. I sat down, and was presented with a mineral
water. "Calories," was all she said.

The conversation between my father and the Major kept of, her laughing at
some of the old war stories. Rick, not wanting to show any sign of shock,
continued to laugh and drink his beer.

"...and that's where you came in," she said. "Yeah, Sarg Murphy here got me
that job at the Y. Best job I've ever had! Hell, I get to work out as a
JOB. It's like the Army without the guns, or the sand showers!"

They all laughed.  "But seriously, Rick. This job got me out of the slump I
was in when I go hurt in that skirmish, and thought I'd never be a
contributing member of society anymore. And hell," she poked at Rick, "it's
free memberships for lazy brothers like you!"

I heard a ringing sound as the blood left my face. I could feel it. I
couldn't do anything but watch as Rick played dumb, and Becky was none the
wiser. My father had gone quiet, but was still smiling. He sipped his beer
slowly. He was thinking.

"So, what do you do, then, Rick? Besides getting all the benefits out of
the gym...?" My father asked, his voice calm, but leading. Rick looked at
me, and my face went flush. I still hadn't said a word, but you know when
adults talk, it's not exactly like they are waiting on my opinion.

the Major, Becky, interjected. "Oh you know how it goes, Sarg! The bitch of
an ex-wife of his took everything,"

I raised an eyebrow. Wife? Rick made no move to correct her.

"And so he found this gig doing, ugh, what's it called, Ricky?"

He finished the last of his beer, and set it down. My father set another in
front of him, opened. There was no saying no to him. "I'm the architectural
landscaper for the city Stadium." He said it like he had recited it a
number of times before.

She slapped the table in confirmation. "Yea! That's it."

My dad leaned forward, clearly showing interest. "And, uh, what does an
architectural landscaper do, there at the football field?"

Rick paused, his glance briefly towards me, then his sister, then my
dad. "Well, uh-"

"Call me Sarg," he smiled, tightly. "E'ryone does."

"So, ok, Sarg- yeah, well. I was an architect for buildings back in
Detroit,"

"Yeah, and you're bitch of a wife took all that-" Becky started.

-And," Rick interjected. "When I saw the job here, I jumped to be around my
family again."

"But," Dad repeated. "what does an architectural landscaper, do?"

I felt the tension in the room. My dad was reaching for something, and Rick
was avoiding it. Becky was starting to catch on, but helpless. I was
invisible, or so I thought. Rick, in an instant, looked me in the eyes. He
gave me a split-second look of embarrasment, immediately return to the
conversation.

"Well, I design the structures and layouts of the side walls on the stadium
that line the entrance, the main courtyards, and the freeway view," he
said.

"You mean, the flowers on the side of the freeway by the stadium?" Dad
asked, his voice steady.

"Not just that, but, yeah." Rick retorted.

"So, you're a florist."

Becky chimed up, desperate to save him. "Oh, Sarg, you have to see the
construction they do- I mean, full steal scaffolds and lighting and
pyrotechnics for the concerts they hold- it's very technical,"

My Dad nodded, and leaned back in his chair. The conversation continued on,
and there was a few more comments on how the stadium was looking better,
but it didn't matter. My father had what he wanted.

Soon, the time had come for people to leave. "My shift is starting at the
gym, so we'd better scoot," she urged, standing up with a chuckle. "As
always, Sarg, thanks for the beer - gonna go great with my workout!"

They all laughed, and as Rick headed to the door, my father grabbed his
arm.

"Hey Rick, how's about you stay for a bit. I could use some advice with the
yard." My Dad motioned to me, and I could feel eyes burning into the back
of my head. I still hadn't moved from my chair.

"Besides," he whispered, "I think we have plenty to talk about."

Rick made no attempt to challenge my father's request. He waved the Major
off, and they all walked to the door.

Becky grabbed her keys. "You gonna drive him back, Sarg? I drove here..."

Dad nodded, and that was it. "See ya, squirt!" she called to me.

Rick held back, watching Becky head out. My life was over.


The silence was deafening. My father and Rick stood there, not speaking,
watching Becky as she pulled out of the drive, drove down the street, stop
at the sign, then turn to the main drag. Only then, did I hear my father
speak.

"Let's have another beer, hey Rick?" It sounded like a question, an offer,
but it really wasn't. Rick gulped the last of he 2nd beer and was handed
another. They walked into the living room, and my dad called out. "Dade!
Come on in here!"

I picked up my water and walked into the living room. My dad had set Rick
into Mom's normal spot on the edge of the couch, and he was in his
recliner. I found my spot on the other side of the couch, the Nintendo
still on the end table, wires disconnected. I hadn't had time to play for
weeks, and my Mom didn't want the wires across the carpet when she
vacuumed. After meeting Rick, I had almost forgotten about it.

"Divorce, huh?" Dad asked. Rick Nodded. "How come?"

Rick gulped his beer, but spoke. "Well, number of reasons, to be honest,"

Dad interjected. "Yeah, I'm sure. But, since we're being honest. What
happened?"

Rick shook his head. "She left me for another man."

He leaned back, taking another swig of beer. I was still staring at the
floor. I could see my father look at me with each question.

My dad slapped his leg in acknowledgement. "Yep, that'll do it," he
said. "Tell me, was it all her, or weren't ya givin' it to her good
enough?"

My jaw dropped at the question.

Rick leaned forward a bit. That struck a chord. "I did just fine, I'd
say. That wasn't the problem."

My Dad set down his beer on the table, and leaned forward a bit. "Ah, so
then, was she not so good?"

Rick examined my dad's expression. He wasn't angry. If this were two guys
in the bar, he'd think nothing of it. But I knew better. We all knew
better. HE was gentle in his response. "She wasn't the best, but I was
happy with our life. She just, well - she wasn't."

"So," Dad said. "When you moved here, then, you thought, 'fuck them
bitches', hey?"

He took his beer to his mouth, and gulped the last few swigs. He squeezed
the can, tossed it to the basket, and made himself belch.

He looked over at me, then back at Rick. "You came to my town. You came to
my gym. Then you came to my house. You sat here. You drank my beer. You saw
MY son-"

I gasped, and he threw a dagger at me. "and you thought, 'fuck them chicks,
I'll go for some faggots, instead."

Rick's face began to pale. I watched his mouth slowly open, struggling to
find words. I couldn't look to him, tears in my eyes beginning to form. He
looked over at me, but I couldn't look back.

My father got up, walked back to the kitchen. Another beer popped open. He
leaned against the doorway. Rick looked up at him.

"I get it," my dad shrugged. "I had me a faggot when I was in the
service. Tightest piece of ass on the smoothest tiny frame you ever
saw. Loved my cock, too. Took anything I would give him."

I slammed my eyes shut. My dad? Sex with a guy?

"Mr. Murphy, I don't-"

"Sarg." he said, his voice now hard. "You call me Sarg, I told ya."

"..Sarg," Rick continued. "I'm not sure that this is... I mean, your son-"

"Yes," my dad said flatly. "My son. Had your dick. Inside him. You caught
him looking at you in the shower. Just like I used to see those fairies in
the core. Then you bought him a meal. You told him how cute he was. I used
to compliment the girlies too. They loved it when big, strong men- like you
and me- compliment them. Just like a girl. They crave it. And when you
compliment them, they start to hang on you. They do anything to stay in
your favor... don't they?"

I listened to my father talk about me like one of his army guys- the ones
like me. He was right. I was like a girl. The first guy who showed me any
kind of attention, I gave away... gave him my virginity. He explained
everything so simply. It was all so logical.

"With all due respect, it's not like that," he pleaded. "Your son.. and
I... we had something special,"

My father laughed. "Oh, I get it," my Dad adjusted himself. From my swollen
teary eyes, I could see a bulge forming in his shorts. He was.. getting
hard!

I think Rick noticed too. I heard him cough, and twist uncomfortably.

My dad never had any shame about his body. I've seen him naked many times
in the house. You know, 'real men' don't have to be shy.

"You're single now. The women in this town don't give it up. So, you're
working out, you see a hot piece in the shower, maybe. You think, easy
pickin'. I can't say I blame you. Like I said, we had them in the army. And
hey, an faggot's ass ain't like cheating, so..."

I was in awe at the conversation. I didn't even care anymore that Dad
thought I was a faggot. I couldn't believe that he had told me- told us-
that he had fucked guys before. And now, he's getting hard?

"Dade," he commanded.

"Ye...Yes, sir?" I squeaked. I was still sitting on the couch, my own body
folded tightly together. I had my knees at my chest, and my basketball
shorts and my t-shirt had stuck together from the sweat. I was so scared.

"I asked you to make a choice, didn't I?" He held his beer out, motioning
toward Rick. "Choose that life, guys using you - or a life like mine, a
man's life."

Rick looked at me this time, his face twisted with question, and pain. I
began to melt, another set of tears starting.

"I..Sir... I'm, like that." was all I could say. My head came crashing into
my knees, and I hid my face from my father.

"Exactly, just as I thought." he set the beer down, and walked to me. He
crouched down, and I felt Rick stiffen. My dad was in front of me know, his
crouch meeting my knees. "Dade, look at me."

I slowly looked up, my eyes now puffy and red. Calmly, he began to ask me,
"Dade, do you like when he touched you?" I nodded. "Did you like when he
made you swallow his cock?" I inhaled sharply, but nodded.

Dad looked away from me, and directly at Rick. Without losing his lock with
Rick, he asked, "And Dade, did you like when he FUCKED you?" I nodded, my
eyes now looking at my father, looking at Rick. His gaze got stronger, and
Rick retracted a bit.

"And Dade," his eyes turning back to me, now looking me straight in the
eye, "Do you want to get fucked again?"

I stopped breathing, and the world stopped moving. I could hear the beats
of my heart pounding in my ears. Without a word, I nodded.

"Well, that proves it," he said, letting me go. He stood up, and left the
room. I darted a glance to Rick, who was still recoiled into the couch. I
listened as my father turned on the bathroom fan and light, lifted the lid,
and let a stream of beer exit his body. With a flush and a cough, he walked
back into the room.

"Dade," he commanded. I looked up. "Stand up." I did. He sat back down on
his recliner. "Now, strip."

I looked at him in horror, and slowly crossed my arms over my
chest. "Wha...?" I croaked.

"Mr. Mur- Sarg," Rick coughed, "I hardly think-"

My dad slammed his fist down on the chair, and leaned over to Rick. He
positioned himself on the edge of his seat. "You," he growled, "fucked my
son. Unless you want jail time, you should just shut the hell up."

Rick sank back again, and looked to me. He pleaded with his eyes, but he
could do nothing. I knew his hands were tied.

"I said STRIP. Now."

I turned away from the men, now both looking at me in the middle of the
room. I slowly removed the Ocean Pacific shirt I had bought with my own
lawn-mowing money. Then, I tugged the waistband of my basketball shorts,
letting them slide down my frame. I was now in socks and my BVDs.

"Underwear too," he called out. I bit my lip, and more tears fell as I
pulled them down, bending slightly to get them all the way down. My hands
insttinctively went to cover myself, as I could feel the flush of
embarrassment wave over me. With my back turned, I couldn't see.

"Yup," my Dad said. "I can see why that would pull ya in,"

My body shivered at the thought of my father looking at me, like that. I
was scared, and embarrassed, but also, a little confused.

I heard him stand up, and I registered the heat from him behind me. "This
is for the best," he said.

A blindfold came over my eyes, and the world went dark. "Sarg, I really
think-"

Again, my dad stopped him. "You really think nothing. Here's what you are
GOING to think. You are going to think, 'thank you Sarg, for not calling
the cops.' and you are going to think, 'thank you Sarg, for the continued
use of this faggot's ass!' that's what you are going to think."

My mind exploded when I heard him say that. What? Huh?

But I didn't have time to think. Strong hands from behind, my father's
hands, pushed me down to my knees. I didn't protest, but I was beggining to
breathe heavily. In a whispered hush, I heard simply, "relax, this ain't
gonna hurt ya. It's all stuff y'all ready did."

"Rick," my father said, his tone strong like before. "We're gonna have
ourselves a good time. We already know you like that boy's ass, and I ain't
been gettin' head since the army. Since this boy made his mind up, he's not
going to change his ways. I say that means he's gonna have to learn how the
world works. That real men like you and me will care for him, be there for
him, but we won't be fags with him. And you know, a hole feels good, no
matter who's it is."

I couldn't see what was happening, but those words spoke volumes. I could
hear my dad shuffle around, twisting me around the other direction. I could
hear him and Rick in front of me.

"Rick, now, this is gonna happen. My boy liked what you did for him, so
I'll let ya have it. Just as long as we keep this between us. I bet you'll
find some lady friend soon enough, but until then," he paused. I heard a
click of a bottle being opened. "Strip, get it up, and use this."

I had no choice but to listen. I heard the familiar sound of Rick's belt
coming undone, and pants falling to the floor. I heard a shuffle in front
of me, and a familiar smell of sweat and musk.

A long slow whistle escaped from my father. "You got all that into him? On
the first try?"

I felt the soft creamy hand of Rick touch my shoulder from behind. "Uh,
yeah, Sarg. He's uhm... built for it, I guess."

He squeezed my shoulder. I knew that he was playing into my father's primal
nature now, and that this was going to happen no matter what.

Rick coughed as my father's chair squeaked in front of me. he must've sat
back down. "Sarg, you look like you're not too bad there,"

My dad laughed. "Yeah, God blessed me with the straight 8. Something I will
pass down to Dade, here, likely. I mean, he's already hard and what, 6" at
14?"

My own hands had forgotten to stay covered, and apparently my dick had a
mind of it's own. I felt it jutting out, and my head got hot. "Get behind
him, and use that KY."

I turned my head and twisted by body. From the edge of the blidfold, I
could see the tanned skin of Rick, his feet and legs behind me. A pair of
hands reached at my shoulders and pulled me forward. Instinctively, I
reached out to brace myself, and could feel strong legs in front of
me. "Open up, buddy, just like in the army..."

My nose filled with the scent of musk and sweat and piss before I could do
anything about it. Dad's hands met my head, and braced on each ear, began
to lower me onto him. I felt the skin of his uncut meat touch my lips,
coaxing my mouth open more and more as he got the head in. "no teeth, now,"
he remarked, as his hands pulled me down deeper. I began to gag a bit as he
reached the top of my mouth, but he was persistent. He pulled back just
enough, then began to slowly arch his hips. I could feel the sticky skin of
his shaft on the roof of my mouth; my tongue was still dry, so his pumping
created a vacuum that sucked in my cheeks with every pull. He was using my
mouth now, slowly pushing in and out. Even with the blindfold, my eyes
remained closed. I could taste him; salty skin, with an occasional hint of
slippery.

My mouth began to water from the actions, and this made him groan a
bit. "Yea, that's it. Fags always feel better than chicks..." he murmured.

By now I was bent over the chair. I could feel my face in my father's lap,
slowly taking his cock in my throat, each few thrusts getting deeper. My
hands were bracing against the foot of the recliner, and my father was
holding my head, directing the pace. "Rick, get to it."

Rick didn't reply. He didn't have to. My father was the kind of man that
people listened to. Rick was stuck, and if he didn't do what my father
wanted, he would go to jail.

Rick positioned himself behind me, on his knees, and I could feel the heat
of his body. his pelvis grazed against my backside, completely exposed to
him. I could feel his cock, between my legs, it's pulsing rubbing on my
own. I was hard too, the mixture of shame and fear, now combined with the
taste of cock and the want from Rick.

He put both hands to my shoulders, sliding his palms into my arm pits, and
slid up against my back, I could feel his chest on my shoulder blades, and
his breathe hot on my neck. He whispered to me, "I'm sorry it had to be
like this."

My dad had gotten most of himself into my mouth with each thrust, and he
was starting to get a rhythm. He moaned a bit, and I could feel him look
down at Rick now on top of me.

"So look, dude," dad said, stretching his arm out to Rick's neck. "In the
army we used to get a guy like this when we couldn't get pussy. All I ever
wanted was head anyway, so here's the deal. You fuck him. When you're gonna
nut, you let me know, and we can fill this faggot together. Got it? You let
me know when you nut."

Rick pulled away, and I could feel his hands slide down my body. He was
being sensual as possible, and even thought I was coughing now with some of
the deeper thrusts of my father, I was happy to feel the warmth coming from
Rick. To be honest, I started to feel better when he touched me. When his
hands grasped my hips, I began to relax. When his fingers slipped some lube
around my tight hole, I arched back instinctively. When my father
whispered, 'tighten your lips', I didn't protest. My body began to feel all
the pleasures from a hard dick in my mouth, and a sweet bit of precum.

"Ready, Dade?" Rick asked. I could feel dad's hands come bcak to my
head. His palm on the back of my head and his other hand on my neck. "Do
it, Rick. Slide in that pussy,"

Dad pushed his dick into my mouth, as deep as ever, and my body thrust
back. I gagged at the feeling, but I couldn't move, as his strong hands
held me in place. Rick, feeling my buck, announced, "Push out, Dade."

I had just enough time to push out before a searing wave of pain entered my
body. Rick's dick had slid completely inside me, all 7" of him now deep in
my gut. My dad pulled his cock back, allowing me to inhale sharply, but
didn't let me go far enough to scream. My muffled agony warbled over his
shaft, and his string hands held me tight.

It was then that the first sounds of empathy came into focus. "Rick,
man..." my father said. "The other fags on base never got like this..."

Two strong hands from behind began to rub my back, caress my sides, massage
my shoulders. "Yeah, well, they weren't 14, and it wasn't their second
time, and they weren't being forced by their father, now were they."

Rick didn't move until my pleas and moans subsided. My father, once holding
me hostage in place, released his monster grip, and waited for my sobs to
slow. I could feel his cock, still hard on my tongue, backing away.

"No," I grunted. Rick leaned in, and I began to push back on him. A new
spark in me had surfaced. Rick was what I wanted. The pain I endured, the
names my father called me. I didn't care. I wanted to be loved by men like
Rick. My father was right. I wasn't like him, and I never would be. I was
like Rick. And I was going to prove I was good at it.

I breathed heavy a couple times, and began to rock my hips. RIck stopped
rubbing my back and sighed. "You sure, baby?" he asked. I responded by
pushing back harder, feeling his cock throb inside me. Oh yeah, I wanted
it.

My dad, whose cock had began to soften, still felt full in my mouth as I
began to suck it in. He shifted in his seat as my mouth took control, my
neck beginning to bob up and down. I wasn't very good at this, but I was
gonna give it my best.

"He's... doing it." was all my father could say. Rick nodded, and I could
feel him hold onto my hips.

"I'm not gonna last long, Dade," he panted, his own hips beginning to
thrust in and out. The sting from his impalement was almost all gone now,
and my own cock was responding. Without thinking, I began to swirl my
tongue around my dad's cock, his uncut 8" now fully engorged. He stroked my
hair, and his legs began to stretch out.

"This... is working..." he moaned. I tasted more of his precum, and I could
feel him begin to thrust. He was going faster with me, and my head became a
machine. I bobbed up and down now, matching my head's thrust with the
feeling of my Rick behind me.

"I can't... I can't..." Rick began to groan, and his fingers dug deep into
my hips. I could feel his body slam into me over and over again, his dick
now slaming against something very good in my body. My own dick was hard as
stone, and I could feel an orgasm coming. I began to moan at the feeling,
and that set my father's thrusts even faster.

"Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit shit..." my dad repeated. His hands held my
head forcefully as his cock jack hammered the tip against my tongue. His
whole body went tight and he held me in place. Even with Rick pounding
faster and faster behind me, time stood still as my father unleashed the
first shot into my mouth. I felt the hot cream shoot past my tongue, and my
throat reacted. I coughed a little, making my body flex, and my dad moaned
as the second and third pulse filled my mouth.

"Oh God! I'm cumming!" Rick moaned. His body bushed into my fully, and I
felt the thickness of his shaft stretch me even wider. The weight of his
body sent me forward, sliding me further onto my father's dick, and
continued pulses of cum continued now directly into my throat. Rick pulled
back, his own wave of orgasm now shuddering inside me.

I continued to gag and cough at the fluid, my airways blocked by my dad's
massive cock. He pulled my head back, allowing me to gasp for air. Rick was
still holding my hips, his own body sliding him in and out of me. My dad's
strong hands held me up, and I'm not sure why, but I began to smile.

I was sweaty, my throat was raw and clogged, I felt like I had a tree trunk
shoved inside me... but I felt perfect. I reached down slowly, feeling my
own cum dripping to the floor.

Dad was the first to react. He pushed me from him, my only choice but to
fall back into Rick's arms. Who, without question, held me against him. His
own manhood had defated, and rested gently against my tailbone. I let him
hold me, and he wrapped his arms to my chest. Dad hopped up, grabbed his
beer, and went to take another piss. He came back with a towel for me and a
washcloth for Rick.

"So, that's what you want, hey?" he said, motioning to Rick wrapped around
me. I just nodded, "yes, sir..."

"Well, that proves it," he said. "We won't speak of this again. Your mother
isn't to know of your... condition until you move out, understood?"

I nodded.

"And you," he said to Rick. "Teach him to be like you. Don't let him become
an army faggot. Not like this. Don't let him get taken by... by guys like
me."


My dad never tried anything with me again after that, even though I
discreetly offered on two different occasions. He didn't mention Rick, or
gay stuff, or anything, to my mom- even after I went to college. Rick and I
kept hooking up and hanging out for a while, but eventually, he wanted
something more permanent, and I found other guys who were like me. College
brought on a whole new set of adventures; but I'm sure you know those
stories already.


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