Comments about our stories are always welcome. Please send your e-mail responses to:

For Paul S. Stevens: pablosound2010@hotmail.com Friend me on Facebook at: http://www.facebook.com/paul.s.stevens.5

For Hans Schreiber: h.schreiber@hushmail.com Friend me on Facebook at: http://www.facebook.com/hans.schreiber.338

Special thanks to our editor, Flip McHooter for his invaluable editing skills that helped improve our story beyond measure.

The Father and Son Outing

By Paul S. Stevens & Hans Schreiber

Chapter #4

Wes and I stood frozen, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to think. I don't know what was going on in his mind, but a kind of numbness overtook me. I truly didn't know what to do. Then suddenly, a barrage of thoughts raced through my mind so fast that before I could address one question, another one took its place.

I didn't know whether I should scream or speak. If I spoke, what would I say? And if I revealed what Wes and I were doing, staring down at them, how much trouble would we be in for playing this immoral game of `privacy invasion'. Then I wondered how our dads were going to explain to us exactly what we just observed them doing.

Then, it all started to make some sense -- the condoms and the lube. Mom and Dad were obviously having bedroom issues. He was cheating on her all right, but not with another woman. He was doing it with a man. Was Dad bisexual and needed his male sex fix? And now that he was getting it, was everything going to be okay again for a while? If not, was Dad gay? Oh My God! Was he living a lie? Does Mom know? Did he ever love Mom? Did he ever love me? Was he going to leave Mom for a man? Was that man going to be Mr. Hauser? That didn't make sense since they just met. So was my dad into just having sex with any guy that came along? Was Wes's dad as big of a flirt as Wes? Did he just take advantage of my dad since he was vulnerable and horny from being cut off by Mom? And what must poor Wes be thinking about his dad? What must he be thinking about my dad? Was he thinking that my dad seduced his? Perhaps it was the other way around and his dad seduced mine? I knew something fishy was going on with our dad's quirky friendship. There was something wrong all right, but what ever it was, it was still a mystery. A lot of these concerns were troubling and I was totally against them. Then again, some of the others weren't issues at all. I was starting to feel the conflict escalate in my thoughts and a kind of uneasiness began to work its way into my consciousness.

While all these thoughts were rushing through my head, I hadn't noticed that Wes was stroking me the entire time we'd been watching the show below. It wasn't until I started to feel myself get close to popping that I realized what had been happening. The truth was, watching our two dads `doing it' in this way was both disturbing and compelling. Disturbing, like watching a car crash and compelling like being seduced by a lover. I reached over and stroked Wes back as we continued to watch, unable to avert our eyes.

From the time we started watching them until that moment, our dads had been giving each other a rather enthusiastic hand job, much like what Wes and I had been doing to each other all day. That was about to change. They paused briefly and softly exchanged a few words that we couldn't make out over the thundering sounds of all the shower heads around us. I watched my dad roll on one of the condoms he had packed onto his solid erection and stroked himself a few times. Then Wes's dad turned away from my dad and leaned over the top of the bench, opposite the wall we were standing against. My dad soaped up Wes's dad's rear end and pointed his condom covered cock at Mr. Hauser's back door and pushed himself in. Mr. Hauser let out a somewhat suppressed moan as my dad drove his impressive cock deep into his partner's bowels.

It was fascinating to me because I had only seen my dad naked a small handful of times in my lifetime and never once did he have a boner. Another thing that I found interesting was looking at our dads' dicks was like looking at what our own dicks were going to look like in a few years. My dad looked to be a good, thick, seven inches and Wes's dad looked to be a slightly thinner, yet longer, eight or more inches. Both our Dads were impressively endowed. I was pleased to see a reflection of what my own cock might grow into.

I realized that the sexual position our dads were in would be considered `fucking'. I'd seen it in virtually all the gay porno film that Ruben and I had ever watched together. I never truly understood the attraction and watching it on the screen did little to arouse me. But watching our dads do it was different. They both seemed to be genuinely enjoying it, unlike the actors in adult films that fake it for the cameras. If it were possible to be proud of my dad doing what he was doing, I was proud that he was the one slamming it to Mr. Hauser and not the other way around. I preferred seeing my dad being the power top as they called it in all those adult movies. I always figured the guy taking it up the ass was doing it because he had to. Mr. Hauser, on the other hand, looked like he couldn't get enough.

Wes's stroking was taking its toll on me and I started getting really close to popping a big one. I felt that dull ache in my balls again as my sperm drew ever closer to spewing my load everywhere. I doubted I had much more sperm left to offer at this point anyway. It's a good thing that I was used to jacking off at least twice a day and sometimes more. My record was six once when Ruben and I watched three new pornos in a row, cuming twice during each one. That was a blast until number six. That one took a real long time and I suffered from friction burn for several days after. Our dads, who were engrossed in the activity that was unfolding below us, were both showing similar signs of an impending climax. Then they unexpectedly stopped, exchanged a few words again and switched places. My dad removed his condom and dropped it to the floor. He handed Wes's dad a new one and he rolled his on and prepared to plow my dad's ass next.

"No Dad, don't do it!" I silently thought to myself. The thought of Mr. Hauser, planting his eight plus inches of man cock into my dad's ass caught me off guard. I could tell that it impressed Wes though as his cock swelled up and hardened beyond what it had been so far as we continued to jack each other off. It was a small consolation to know that my dad took those eight or more inches of man cock like a... like a... well, like a real man, I guess. A few minutes of intense, balls deep pounding sent our two unsuspecting performers into a wild frenzy as they both began showing signs of a mutually impending pop-off. Mr. Hauser withdrew from my dad's rear. He removed his condom and tossed it to the shower floor. Then, the two of them leaned against opposite walls as they raced to finish themselves off.

As quiet as they were being, their heaving chests gave away their intense arousal. Mr. Hauser gave my dad a signal and my dad dropped to his knees and opened his mouth so Mr. Hauser could plant his masculine man seed down my dad's throat. He closed his eyes and waited for Wes's dad to unleash his powerful load. Wes's dad momentarily scared us as he threw his head back, facing up in anticipation of his orgasmic explosion. Fortunately for us, he also had his eyes closed as he spewed his load all over my dad's face. We both instinctively ducked away for a split second, but then immediately bounded back as to not miss a single second of his scorching finale. We watched as a second shot hit the target of my dad's tongue. At that same moment, Wes shot his hot boy cream all over my hand as he and his dad shot off their impressive loads in unison.

Once Mr. Hauser milked the last of his load out of his dick, my dad stood up and the two of them shared Mr. Hauser's spunk from my dad's face when they kissed each other. I'm not sure how I felt about that, but Wes's orgasm had him reeling into the cosmos. Somehow, he managed to keep his hand moving across my dick as he continued to stroke me to conclusion.

My dad was up next. He gave a similar signal to Mr. Hauser who dropped to his knees, opened his mouth and closed his eyes. My dad took three deep breaths and then held it. His entire body stiffened and a moment later, he shot his pent up load, shooting his first two volleys across the stall, totally missing Mr. Hauser's face entirely. My own sperm jumped and splattered the wall as my dad demonstrated what a real man can do. As my eyes beheld my dad's dazzling performance, I continued to pump shot after shot of my fiery boy juice across Wes's hand as he finished me off. I watched in awe as my dad blasted a cumshot that rivaled even the most seasoned professional porn stars. My dad redirected his last few shots and creamed Mr. Hauser right across his mouth as he originally intended. Once my dad was tapped out, and I swear it had to be seven or eight shots, Wes's dad stood up. Like before, they shared the cream of their combined labor as they enjoyed their own well deserved afterglow. They were tenderly hugging, caressing and kissing with a passion that indicated that this was no simple, meaningless fling. Even though my dad and I had been having our issues, he was really my idol and hero and I just couldn't figure out how to deal with what I'd just witnessed.

Now that they were finished, Wes pulled me back to our side of the stall to avoid being detected.

"We have to go... right now!" Wes quietly insisted.

I was still under the influence of my astronomical orgasm and my mind was reeling from the potent dopamine highball my brain had just secreted. I wasn't moving very fast either as my legs felt like lead. The last thing I wanted to do was start hustling.

Wes didn't even give us time to dry off. He simply turned off the water, tossed me my swim trunks and instructed me to put them on as he pulled on his own cold, damp Speedo. Then he grabbed up his bottle of shampoo and our two towels and flip flops in one hand and threw open the stall door with his other hand, not caring if anyone other than our dads saw us or not. Then he took me by the hand, pulling me along with him as we scurried out of the stall. We both nearly fell several times as we slid along the slippery floor, trying to exit the facility before our dads could know we'd even been there.

Once we were outside, Wes started running over to his camp and I ran right along with him as I got hit with a sudden burst of adrenaline. As we got to his camp, it looked like he went into the wrong tent.

"Isn't that your tent over there?" I asked as I pointed to the neighboring tent.

"That's my dad's tent," he said. "This one's mine. Would you do me a favor please? Would you toss that back in there?"

He set down the stuff he was carrying and then tossed me the shampoo bottle that he had taken earlier. I opened the door flap to his dad's tent and pitched the bottle into a duffle bag on the floor that was unzipped and partially opened. Wes invited me into his tent and flopped himself on top of his sleeping bag. I sat Indian style next to him and waited for him to start the inevitable conversation.

"You know, most kids get grossed out just thinking about their parents having sex," Wes began. "Some even get scarred for life when they accidentally witness their parents having sex. But what we just saw... that was... flipping awesome! I wish I had a video of that. I'd watch it again and again and again. I wish I had a picture of your face too. You went totally zombie faced."

"Well yeah," I responded. "That was our dads fucking each other in that shower stall."

"I know, and they were awesome!"

"Will you stop saying that," I barked. "Maybe because your mom passed away, your dad wasn't really cheating on anyone, but what my dad just did, definitely qualifies as cheating."

"Ouch man, that wasn't nice," Wes said. "You can't be completely mad at your dad. You were definitely enjoying watching both our dads slam it to each other."

"No I wasn't!" I insisted.

"You weren't?" Wes pointed out. "Then why did you blast your cum all over the wall when your dad spewed his load?"

"I don't know," I confessed. "I'm so confused!"

Then, without thinking, I got up and rushed out of Wes's tent. I started running, not knowing where I was going, trying to get as far away from there as my bare feet would carry me. I knew I didn't want to go to my tent and I still didn't know my way around the campground well enough to logically choose a hiding spot. I had caught Wes off guard and was almost out of sight by the time he came out of his tent to follow me. I ran into a small grove of trees and found a big oak tree to sit under. I sank to the ground, pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs and cried, not knowing what else to do.

I thought I might be able to figure things out, being alone with nature and all, but I couldn't. Instead, that same numbness resurfaced again and washed over me. I realized there was no saving my parents' marriage. Dad was in too deep already. I was doomed to be the next victim of a divorced family. But more shocking than anything was what I'd seen my dad doing. I started crying from the confusion and disappointment. Then, like the video that Wes had wished for, our father's sexcapades started playing over and over again in my mind. I pounded my fists against my forehead and groaned.

"Oh, there you are," Wes said, jolting me back to the real world. "I was looking all over for you. What happened back there? I was really worried about you. Did I say something to offend you? If I did, I'm sorry. Sometimes my outgoing nature gets me into trouble. I guess I was a little insensitive."

"Oh, no, Wes," I sniffled. "I just needed to get away and think."

"Do you want me to leave you alone then?" Wes asked.

"No. Actually, I'm glad you came to find me."

Wes slowly sat down beside me and leaned against the tree trunk. He cautiously reached his arm around my shoulder and I leaned into him. We didn't speak for a long while as I struggled with what I'd seen and how I felt about Wes. Then I wondered what would happen next. I had to accept that I had feelings for Wes and yet I suddenly felt a measure of guilt over the sex stuff we'd done, especially after seeing my dad and his dad sexing it up together. I wondered how I could rightfully be mad at him when I wanted the exact same thing for myself.

Wes then slowly leaned in to kiss me and I surprised him by instinctively pulling him into me. I really needed something like that since I felt this overwhelming need to be loved all of a sudden.

Wes's body rolled on top of me and we stayed together, lip locked for a while as I drank in all the affection that Wes was generously providing me. It wasn't even sexually charged, it was tender and full of passion. Neither of us boned up but we both had our eyes closed as we pressed our lips and bodies together. He broke the kiss and slowly stroked the side of my cheek as we opened our eyes and gazed into our souls.

"Do you feel it?" Wes asked me softly.

I couldn't speak. I just slowly nodded up and down. He smiled, seemingly relieved.

"It's going to be getting dark soon," Wes said as he gently pulled himself away. "Remember, we promised to return back to camp before dark so the four of us could have dinner together."

"Oh My God, Wes," I said in a hysterical panic. "I can't face our dads after having watched them... you know... um... um..."

"Fucking?"

"Yeah, that!"

"Did it bother you that much?" Wes asked.

"Hell yeah it bothered me!" I answered. "Didn't it bother you?"

"Not really," Wes plainly said. "Why should it bother me that my dad wanted to have some fun? Just because our dads are older doesn't mean they don't still have the same urges and desires that we have, right? Don't you kind of want to try it out too? Come on now, be honest."

"Um... I guess so," I hesitated as my heart skipped a beat. "I mean, I'm not so sure about getting it, but giving it, yeah."

"If you try it, maybe you'll understand why they did it and not judge them too harshly," Wes offered. "Remember, they don't know that we were watching them, so if you don't say anything about it, they'll never know. Just keep your mind on dinner and perhaps your latest video game and don't even think about sex. Do you think you could do that, you sex maniac?"

"Hey, I'm not the...," I said, catching on to Wes's bait. "Yeah, I could try and do that."

"Okay, let's get back to camp. There's a nice dinner waiting there and calling our names!" Wes said as he extended his hand to help me up.

I took Wes's hand, stood up and followed him back to camp for dinner.

"You know," Wes said. "I think it would be easier for you if you had visited as many clothing free resorts as we have. It opens your mind to things. It's so much simpler and enjoyable to be free from our clothes and old fashioned ideas about our bodies and our sexuality. I wish we were at one of the other campgrounds where they allow nudity."

"I'm not," I declared.

"I thought you liked the nudity at the pond," Wes said.

"I did."

"Then why do you say that?"

"Because," I pointed out. "First, my dad would never have taken me to a place like that. Secondly, you and I would never have met. I can't even imagine that anymore now. You're the coolest guy I've ever known."

"Ah, that's sweet," Wes cooed a little teasingly. "I like you too!"

"So," I coyly asked. "Do you and your dad go to those other campgrounds a lot?"

"Yeah, we do," Wes said. "I don't know why my dad decided to bring us here this time. When I asked him why, he just said he had a hunch. I'm not sure what he meant by that. The other odd thing is that we camped close to the freaking restrooms. We never do that and when I questioned him about it, he gave me some lame ass answer."

"Do you think that maybe he meant that you and I were meant to meet here?" I joked.

"No," Wes flatly answered. "I think he meant that he and your dad were meant to meet here."

"Oh man, that's creepy," I shivered. "Does your dad talk to spirits and ghosts and stuff?"

"No, but he does get premonitions about things sometimes," Wes answered with all seriousness. "He's right about them enough times that I don't question it anymore. But I'm thinking there's something more to it than ghosts and hoodoo. Remember how you thought it was weird that your dad was so comfortable talking with a stranger when he first met my dad? Maybe that's because our dad's met in a past life and they're not really strangers at all. Maybe they have a psychic connection or something."

"Wow," was all I could say about that. The way he said it made it sound almost believable. "It sounds like you know your dad pretty good."

"I do!"

"Have you seen your dad having sex before?"

"I know my dad is sexually active just like he knows I'm sexually active," Wes explained. "Because we visit nude campgrounds a lot, we see each other naked all the time, but today was the first day I've ever seen him in action. What about you? I'm sure you've caught your dad playing with your mom before, right?"

"Hell no, I've never even seen my dad with a boner before today," I confessed. "I wasn't sure he was even capable of having one."

"He looked pretty capable to me!" Wes complemented.

"Your dad had no limp noodle either," I added.

"Admit it," Wes prodded. "They were hot, weren't they?"

I didn't want to admit to Wes that I thought so. I didn't even want to admit it to myself. Even so, there I was, looking at Wes, grinning at me and the image of both our dads doing their shoot-off together flashed in my mind and the erotic element of it did make my dick stir. Watching them together was hot and I couldn't deny it any longer.

"Okay! Yes, they were hot. There, I said it!" I finally agreed. "They were mega-fucking hot, all right?"

"Don't get mad over it," Wes responded.

"The thing is, that doesn't change the fact that my dad was cheating on my mom. Hot or not, it was fucking wrong and I can't get over that. It's like, once I admit they were hot, it's like I also accept it too," I said. "My dad has a wife at home, my mother. That's the part I can never accept."

"Okay, I see your point," Wes said understandingly. "We're almost there, we'll have to talk some more about it later. For now, try and calm yourself. Think about fluffy bunnies or something."

I started laughing. "I swear you must be from another planet or something. `Fluffy bunnies'? Where do you come up with this stuff anyway?"

"Actually, it was one of my mother's favorite sayings," he said and then sighed. "I sure do miss her."

Our conversation was over for now as we walked up to camp. Both our dads were sitting together outside my dad's tent in the same way they had been doing all day. They were just finishing up the cooking together as my dad noticed us approach.

"Hey Henry," my dad called out. "Here come our boys!"

"Frank, be careful," Mr. Hauser called back. "They look hungry. They might get aggressive."

"You're just in time," my dad said. "Henry has cooked up four delicious looking steaks and I grilled some corn on the cob along with some baked beans to go with it."

I was happy and upset at the same time. Luckily, my hunger superseded my disapproval as we all sat together to chow down. The food on all four of our plates disappeared rapidly since all four of us had expended a great deal of energy all day, more than was usual for anyone of us in a typical day.

"Wow, look at us," my dad said. "I haven't seen us chow down like this in a long time. In fact, we haven't had steaks in a long time either. Mabel has a knack of turning the most expensive cuts of beef into leather."

"You take that back," I seethed. "You shouldn't talk about Mom behind her back. She does the best she can. She's a good mother. She's a good wife too!"

"Yes Seth, she is," my dad said, tensing up. "And that's why I brought you out here. I have something important to say to you and I've been waiting for the right time to tell you. I'm not sure there's going to be a `right time' so I think I'd better just come out and tell you now."

"Fine, go ahead, tell me now!"

"I'm sorry Henry," my dad beseeched. "Can you and Wesley excuse us?"

"No!" I demanded. "I want them here! Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of them!"

"Not really," Dad insisted. "Not this!"

"They're staying!"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive!" I said as I folded my arms and stared. Wes and his dad looked at each other as they got uncomfortable having gotten caught in an awkward situation.

"Okay then, here goes," he began. "Your mother and I have been having troubles for a long time."

"That's okay," I interrupted. "All married couples have troubles from time to time. It's normal. You guys can work it out!"

"No Seth!

"It's not too late, Dad. You can go back the way you were."

"I'm sorry, but it is too late, Son!"

"No!"

"Listen to me, Seth," my dad continued. "A long time ago, this problem started. Your mother and I talked endlessly and we've even seen a counselor over it and we just couldn't work things out. It wasn't her fault, it was mine. I filed for divorce soon after that and your mom went along with it. So, to protect you, we agreed to keep things normal around the house until the divorce was final. We went along with married life as usual to give you a stable home with two loving parents."

"What are you saying?"

"Once the paperwork was filed, your mother signed it without protest. We got the divorce papers back last week. What I'm saying is... the divorce is final. Seeing that you're old enough to choose for yourself, you can live with me or with her. We both love you and want you equally!"

"You said it was your fault. What did you mean by that? What did you do? Was her cooking that bad?" I spat out sarcastically.

"It's not about her cooking in the kitchen," Dad responded. "It's about me cooking in the bedroom."

"What?" I said confused. "What are you talking about?"

"It has nothing to do with your mom. I'm gay, Seth," he said. Then things went dead silent as my dad lost his ability to say anything more.

"No... No, No, No!" I stammered as I started to lose control. "I don't want a gay dad! I don't want a divorced family. I Hate You!"

I jumped to my feet and ran. I had to put some distance between me and my dad as fast as I could. My head was spinning and my eyes were blurry from the tears. I guess I expected the divorce part of dad's confession, but I wasn't ready for the gay part. Even though I'd seen him taking it, and giving it `up the butt', I still wasn't prepared to hear him say it out loud.

"I was afraid this would happen," my dad said as he was left holding the bag.

"I'll go find him," Wes offered. "I think I know where he might be."

"Don't go too quickly," Wes's dad suggested. "He's going to need some time alone to figure all this out."

"No, Wesley," my dad said. "It's my responsibility to go find him and talk to him. Just tell me where to find him."

My dad started to stand up but Henry placed a hand on his lover's forearm and looked him in the eye.

"Let Wesley go first," Henry persuaded. "He's a perceptive young man, wise beyond his years and he will be able to say things to Seth that you cannot say right now. Let the boys talk it through first. Trust me on this. He'll come to you later when he's settled down and the two of you will be able to talk rationally."

My dad simply nodded and sat back down. Wes set off to find me at a leisurely pace as I disappeared from sight.

Once again, things were all starting to make sense. It explained why Mom and Dad hadn't been close. It explained why I'd never seen Dad with a boner. He wasn't getting aroused at home. It explained the little mannerisms and things Dad said from time to time. It explained why Mom had the sex talk with me when I was thirteen instead of him. She probably wouldn't let him do it. I wondered how I could not have seen this before. Then I started to question more serious issues. If Dad was gay, was he my real dad? Am I secretly adopted? A gay man can still have children, right? I was starting to get confused all over again.

"Are you okay?" Wes softly said from beside the tree as he easily found me again. I was so deep in thought that I hadn't even heard Wes walk up behind me. Despite his gentle approach, it startled me all the same.

"Do you have flipping radar?" I barked.

"You forget, I know this place really well," Wes explained. "Besides, you wanted to be found. Why else would you come to the exact same place you did last time?"

"I did?" I questioned. "Oh well! I guess I didn't know where else to go."

"Come with me," Wes offered. "It's time to start up the fire rings. We can talk freely there and enjoy the warmth of the fire and even cuddle if you want to."

Even though I wanted to be alone to think this all through, Wes's invitation to cuddle in front of a fire sounded too good to be true and right then, feeling loved and appreciated was something I needed desperately. I also couldn't help but think he may be able to help me sort it out. He seemed pretty smart about things.

I followed Wes over to the fire ring area. There were twelve fire rings separated twenty-five yards apart from each other that were arranged along the shoreline of the lake. Seven of them were being used by various groups and five of them were unoccupied. Wes rounded up an armful of firewood from the bin that he himself gathered earlier that morning and chose an open pit. He set aside two extra long sticks on the ground, outside the ring and arranged the remaining sticks and twigs in a teepee shaped mound inside the ring. I intently watched as he placed several handfuls of dry leaves under and around the teepee structure. Now that the fire ring was prepped, he had me sit in front of it and guard it until he returned.

"I'll be right back," Wes said. "Don't go anywhere, okay?"

"Okay, I promise," I said, crossing my heart.

In ten minutes time, Wes returned with an armful of goodies. He set them down next to me and fished out his barbeque lighter. He selected a small branch from the wood pile and lit the end. Then, he used the glowing branch to bring our fire ring to life. In moments, our fire ring was transformed into a hearty bonfire.

"It's nice to know somebody who knows what they're doing," I said. "What's all this stuff?"

"Well, first, I stopped off at my dad's camp to gather up these things we'll need to snack on," Wes answered. "I also went to your dad's tent to let both our dads know that you were with me and we were okay."

"Thanks, I didn't even think about checking in," I sighed. "So, what goodies are we going to make?"

"Since you rarely go camping, I'm going to teach you how to make the most famous camping snack known to man. S'mores!"

"Okay, what do we do?"

"Well, for traditional S'mores, you start by preparing two graham crackers. Like a sandwich, these will be the top and bottom slices. Then you also prepare the chocolate. You place a couple of squares of the chocolate on top of the graham crackers. Now that these parts are ready, it's time to roast the marshmallows. You place two of these large marshmallows on our stick and slowly roast them to perfection over the fire. When they're done, you place the hot marshmallows between the top and bottom halves and `Bingo', the hot marshmallows melt the chocolate, making an ooey-gooey treat you'll never forget, and when you're done eating it, do you know what you're going to say?"

"I don't know. What?"

"Can I have some more?" Wes grinned. "Get it! They're called S'mores."

We both chuckled. I was thankful for Wes. He had gotten me settled down enough to where I was able to start opening up and talking about the bombshell that my dad had dropped on me earlier.

"Hey Wes," I said.

"Yeah," he said.

"Let's see your stick talent."

"My what?"

"Your talent. I want to see you juggle flaming sticks. Or were you just messing with me?"

"No. I can do it."

He reached into the fire and pulled out three sticks that were only burning on one end. Then he put one in his mouth, tossed the one in his right hand into the air and grabbed the one out of his mouth. Then he tossed the stick in his left hand up, followed by the one he'd just pulled from his mouth. Then like magic, he was juggling, just like he said he could.

"Is your dad gay?" I blurted out.

My question caught Wes off guard and he fumbled and dropped his sticks into the sand, almost burning himself in the process. Then he picked up his sticks, which were still burning at one end and tossed them back into the fire. Then Wes turned to me and raised his eyebrows.

"After watching what our dads did in the showers today, you really have to ask that?"

"Is it really that simple?" I asked.

"No, but it doesn't have to be complicated either."

"Are you and I gay?" I wondered out loud as I rotated my marshmallow to toast the other side.

"You're not sure?" Wes questioned.

"No, I'm not," I replied. "I've noticed that none of the girls turn me on, at least the ones at my school don't. I just figured that the right girl hasn't come along yet."

"And you shouldn't stop looking," Wes suggested. "When the right person comes along, whether it is a guy or a girl, you'll know it. We're both too young to care about forever stuff. It's all about having our fun while we're young."

"Really? So you think I could still be straight and get married to a girl?" I asked.

"Sure. It could happen. I mean, if you're not sure by now, then there's no telling. For me, I'm sure I'm gay. Girls do nada for me, dude. When it's the real deal, you'll know it. You'll feel like you can't live without that person. When they're not with you, you'll feel empty. They'll become all you can think about. There will be no question."

That was strange. That was exactly how I was feeling about Wes. Was this it? Was I falling in love with Wes? I felt that I might be falling in love with him earlier and here it was, happening again.

"How do you know that? Have you felt like that about someone before?" I asked a little worried to hear his answer.

"No. Not really. But that's what I've been told. What I mean is, my mom talked to me about how it happened for her. I've... well, I know what she means anyway."

"So, what are we supposed to do until we find that One?" I asked.

"Follow our hearts," he simply said. "We have more choices now than our dads did when they were our age. They were pressured into doing what their parents and society expected them to do which was, get married and have a family. I bet a lot of gay teenagers did exactly what our dads did, living unsatisfied lives with a wife and kids but always yearning for what they couldn't have. Then, when their wives die, or they get divorced, they start to pursue what they couldn't have before. If my mom hadn't died, maybe Dad would have eventually divorced my mom too. Who knows? I'd like to think he wouldn't but..."

"This all just sucks. But if my dad's really always been gay, it must have really sucked for him all these years. I wonder if he wishes I'd never been born so he could have left before."

"Seth," he said sternly. "You can't think like that. He loves you and I'm sure he doesn't regret having you as his son. You can make it harder for your dad by fighting this, or you can make things easier for him and for yourself by embracing it and supporting your dad. I actually feel sorry for our dads in a way. But, I'm kind of glad they did cave in to the pressure to get married in the first place or we wouldn't even be here, would we?"

Wes chuckled and pulled his marshmallow out of the coals. It was a toasty brown color and he pressed it between the crackers and pulled out the stick. I followed suit and we both took a bite. It was heavenly.

"How in duh hell do you know all dis stuff?" I asked with my mouth full of hot gooey S'mores.

"Well," Wes began. "A while after my mom died, my dad took me to one of our favorite resorts. We were lying together naked on a blanket after having swam for a while in the pool. It was the middle of the week and sort of the off season and there weren't very many people there. Since there was no one nearby, he told me how much he loved me and then explained it all to me about his feelings for other guys and how he had lived a sort of a lie. He explained that he loved my mom but not romantically. He gave me a book about it. It's called being on the "down low" when a married man is secretly gay. You should read it. I can lend it to you. Anyway, after I talked to my dad about it, I understood him better and I felt kind of sorry for him. My mom loved him so much for the good person he is, that she accepted him being gay and didn't care about not having sex together all these years."

Wes paused for a moment and then looked into my face. He could see that his story wasn't having the impact he had hoped it would. Then he made his most astute observation.

"I don't think you really talk to your dad much, do you?" he guessed.

"He's hard to talk to," I said.

"Is that his fault or yours?" Wes accused.

"Look what happened tonight," I pointed out. "He announced to me, you and your dad that he was gay. Just like that. Boom!"

"Yeah, that must have been incredibly hard for him," Wes said, making me feel like shit. "He could probably use some love and understanding from you right now! And remember, it was you who insisted that he do it in front of us. He didn't want to. He probably feels scared as shit right now, all vulnerable about admitting to everyone his life long secret, and scared as hell over the possibility of losing you. Do you love your dad?"

"Yeah, sure. I love him."

"Well then, this thing he confessed to all of us tonight that you're making such a big deal about, shouldn't make any difference in the way you feel about your dad. If you are gay, do you want him to freak out on you when you have to tell him about that?"

"Okay, you're right, I get it. It's just not supposed to be this way. It's like kids aren't supposed to die before their parents do. Well, I think that it's the kids that are supposed to break the news to their parents that they're gay, not the other way around. It's all, ass backwards!"

"Do you truly get it?" Wes challenged. "If the tables really were turned around and it was you who was confessing to your dad that you were gay, do you think he'd go through the same issues that you did? Would you want him to? Would you hope and pray for his acceptance? Would you want him to love you unconditionally, no matter what?"

"Well, yeah," I stressed.

"Then talk to your dad," Wes insisted. "Everything is going to be okay, you'll see. This all might turn out to be a good thing. The more honest everyone is, the better things turn out. It will be better for your mom too, I'll bet. You're Mom is probably having a hard time holding things together and if you go all nuts over it, then it just might just send her over the edge. Just give it a chance."

"Okay, I will. Thanks Wes," I said.

"Thanks for what?" Wes asked.

"Thanks for being such a dope friend!" I gushed.

"No problem!" Wes said as he leaned in. "I like you, Seth. I like you a lot. And I know how you meant it, but I'm not sure I like being called a dope."

I smiled about as big as I ever had in my whole life when he said that.

"Sorry, how about fly?"

"Fly is better. I'll take fly."

We kicked back and enjoyed our S'mores and talked a bit more about unimportant stuff until it started to get cold. True to his word, Wes and I snuggled together to keep each other warm, but mostly to share some much needed intimacy.

Once the fire in our fire ring started to die down, Wes put it out properly and we retired to our individual camps. As we parted ways, we promised to see each other again as both our parties had plans to stay in camp at least one more day. I watched Wes walk towards his camp and I called out to him. He stopped, turned and looked in my direction.

"Hey, Wes," I motioned. "Just a minute."

He took a few steps in my direction and I deliberately walked towards him. I was about to do something that was bold and completely out of character for me. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him, long and tender. I pulled away and stepped back as my head started to spin.

"What was that about?" he asked a bit surprised and dazed.

"That was just to say thank you and let you know that I like you too. I like you a lot!"

Now it was his turn to smile. He gave a little wave and we turned away and headed to our own camps.

As I approached dad's camp, he was finally alone inside his tent. I tugged at the fabric door to get his attention.

"Hey Dad," I called through the door. "Could we talk?"

End of Chapter #4

Comments about our stories are always welcome. Please send your e-mail responses to:

For Paul S. Stevens: pablosound2010@hotmail.com Friend me on Facebook at: http://www.facebook.com/paul.s.stevens.5

For Hans Schreiber: h.schreiber@hushmail.com Friend me on Facebook at: http://www.facebook.com/hans.schreiber.338