Ash and Dad - Continues

     The following fictional story deals with sex among males and family members. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

     The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.

     The original "full" dedication for this story can be found in chapter 1.

     Dad, I'm not usually much for country music, but there is some that I like. After hearing this song this morning I knew I wanted to give this lyric to you. It doesn't fit perfectly, because we've not actually met and touched, but I think you'll get the sentiment.

"One More Day" by Diamond Rio (Steven Dale Jones/Bobby Tomberlin)

1st Verse

Last night I had a crazy dream
A wish was granted just for me
It could be for anything
I didn't ask for money
Or a mansion in Malibu
I simply wished for one more day with you

Chorus

   One more day
   One more time
   One more sunset maybe I'd be satisfied
   But then again
   I know what it would do
   Leave me wishin' still for one more day with you

     Once again, a special thanks to my brothers, Clay and Tim, for their continued support in my writing this little fantasy. Love you all!

     Ash - asherbradley@yahoo.com

Ash and Dad - Chapter 3

     When I next woke up, the sun was high in the sky and, from the temperature in the bedroom, it was going to be a beautiful, warm, Indian summer day. Realizing that I was alone in the bed, I rolled onto my back and began to wonder just what Dad was thinking. Would he be apprehensive, angry, happy, sad? I tried to place myself in his shoes. He hadn't reacted with disgust, he'd seemed to enjoy himself. Was that just an automatic biological response? Personally I'd be wondering how to face me this morning, running every possible scenario through my head. He'd be asking "Why?", and probably wondering about me. Was I gay, when did it happen, how long ago, did he do something wrong raising me? What a can of worms I'd opened. This chain of events, while something I had dreamed of, was, I'm sure, something unexpected for Dad. Rolling over, pushing the blanket back, and throwing my feet over the side of the bed to the floor, I decided that another shower was what I needed before facing him.

     This shower was quick, hot and definitely not erotic at all. Too many conflicting thoughts were making themselves known to me at this point. Why had I done it? That was easy, it was something I'd dreamed about for years. What would this do to my relationship with Dad. What was "at risk"? How would he react? Was he even home? I hadn't heard any noise when I'd woken up. Hurrying to finish, I dried quickly and returned to my bedroom. Dressing hurriedly in briefs, shorts and a tee shirt, I went in search of Dad.

     Glancing at the clock as I passed the kitchen, I realized it was after noon. I guess after last night`s activities I needed the rest. I found Dad where I expected, curled up on the couch in the sunroom. Pausing in the doorway I watched him for a moment. He seemed to be staring through the window at nothing in particular in the yard, a large soup cup in his hand, and the remains of a sandwich on the coffee table. He had obviously, to me anyway, retreated to his favorite spot to think. He was startled and almost spilled his soup when I said hello, and when he turned his face to me I could tell he'd been crying.

     Sitting next to him on the couch I took the soup cup from his hands and set it down. Pulling him into my arms, snuggling his head in the crook of my shoulder as I would a child I asked, "Why have you been crying? Are these happy or sad tears?"

     "I'm not sure at this point. When I first sat down here they were sad, when I thought back to last night's events they were happy, and right now, I think they're tears of worry."

     "Let me say right off the bat that you have nothing to worry about. Like I said last night, what happened is something that I've dreamed about, longed for, for quite some time. I wanted it to happen and finally saw my chance. I hope you don't hate me for that!"

     "I could never hate you. I hate myself for succumbing to something that I've struggled to suppress for so long. I've had homosexual tendencies all my life. Your mother knew and married me anyway. The thoughts didn't go away, but I suppressed them for all our sakes. When you were younger I used to look at you and marvel at how handsome you were. I found myself thinking about you and how I could love you physically. I would never, could never, act on those urges. They're wrong, horribly wrong!! I hated it when you left for college because you'd not be here and I loved it because that temptation was gone. I looked forward to every visit, just to see your face again. No matter how much those thoughts invaded my mind, I should not have allowed what happened last night to happen."

     Laughing to myself, I shifted so I could look directly into Dad's eyes and said,

     "Do you really think you could have stopped it? When you got hard with my head in your lap while watching the movie, what may have been an involuntary biological response to you, was an oasis in the desert to me."

     Dad looked at me quizzically and I knew that I was blowing this explanation.

     "I've always found you sexy, Dad. You're not a big guy but you`re well put together, and you take care of yourself. You always showed me love, and tried to make me think for myself, work through problems and issues. I always admired you for that. When I realized that I was at least partially attracted to guys, you were first in line. But at 16 I knew that it was wrong and could cause trouble."

     A tear rolled down Dad`s cheek as I said this, and I reached up and wiped it up with my finger. Absentmindedly, I licked the tear from my finger as I studied Dad for a moment. The look in eyes, his position on the couch, his furtive glances, suddenly struck me. How could I not have seen just how much Dad, was hurting? I needed to find the right words to help him.

     Trying to pull together my thoughts before making matters worse I continued.

     "I knew when I went off on my own that I would never NOT want to make physical love to you. It's one of the reasons that I left home even though I didn't go to college right off. I'm just glad that I managed to wait until we were older, mature enough to realize that it won't hurt our relationship, our love. I wanted this to happen, I love that it did, and I have to tell you that it was the most wonderful love making of my life. Even if it never happens again, you've, to paraphrase a corny movie line, "you've completed me." I just have to know now, from you, that you're OK with what happened."

     Dad looked at me with tears on his eyes, breathed a ragged breath and started to speak, so softly that I just about couldn't hear him.

     "I've longed for you for more years than I can remember. I know that society condemns me for thinking those thoughts about my own son, but they've been there for years. Your fellatio last night was the crack in the dam"

     I smiled inwardly at Dad's oh-so-correct term for the blow job. That was him, never able to be crude around me. I had very much the same problem. It was always tough for me to tell my father an off color joke. I knew that he would enjoy them, it's just I couldn't see myself saying things like "cock" or "pussy" or "fuck" to my Dad.

     As Dad continued, I tried to concentrate on what he was saying and not lapse into memories of his fucking me in the early hours of the morning.

     "After your ...." he was having trouble with the term so I helped him.

     "Blow job", I laughed, "Dad, it was a blow job" He grinned and laughed that wonderful soft laugh that he has.

     "Okay, BLOW JOB, after the BLOW JOB, I knew that nothing would be the same. The way you took control, wouldn't let me do anything, I knew that you wanted it and I was thrilled. Your taking control also meant that it wasn't my fault, I couldn't control it. It gave me an out, and I find myself ashamed for thinking that. I don't really want an out, I just don't know where this leads us, and I worry that it may change what has been a first-class father/son relationship. By the way, the blow job was great." he smiled." What concerned me, still concerns me, is whether you really wanted to do it. I didn't want you to feel coerced into anything."

     I laughed. "Coerced would definitely not be a word I'd use to describe last night, or this morning."

     Dad laughed, too, and I could tell he was relaxing, which relieved me no end.

     "Dad, I have to tell you that I've always looked up to you, admired you. You're definitely smarter than me, with classroom learning anyway, but you never put me down. You always pressed me to be the best I could be, to take the risks and to learn from mistakes. You let me try and fail and then didn't try to sugar coat it. Learning that everything doesn't have a happy ending was a tough lesson to swallow, but you prepared me well for life. I never heard you spout hate toward any person or group, and on occasion you stood proudly with the underdog. You're what I want to be, and at some point I realized that I didn't just want a loving, mentoring Dad. I wanted the next level. That you might want me the same way is more than I had hoped for."

     I had tears in my eyes, and Dad was sitting there staring at me with tears in his eyes again.

     "If we keep this up we'll need stock in Kleenex." I quipped.

     He smiled his wonderful smile and pulled me into a killer hug.

     "Son, I've probably not actually said it out loud to you, which is my mistake, but I'm so proud of what you've done with your life I could bust."

     At that moment I loved him even more. He'd spoken words that I'd longed to hear, he was proud of me, me who took 15 years to get his BS degree, me who labored on the front lines, never really pushing to climb the corporate ladder.

     "How could I not be proud of you? You married a great woman, provided me with three beautiful grandchildren, you've provided well for them, been there when your mother and I needed you. I've witnessed your being there for your brother and sister, and your friends. You'll go miles out of your way to show a person how to get somewhere, and don't try to deny it, I've seen you in action. You`re a good person, you're my son, how could I not be proud?"

     Dad's mentioning my wife and kids opened another point I felt we needed to talk about.

     "Dad, you need to know that this hasn't happened with anyone else since Deby and I got married. I had a few "interactions" when I was in high school, but because being gay was still really looked down upon I suppressed those urges. Oddly enough when I met Deby I knew that I'd met my mate. She knows of my gay tendencies, has since before we married, but I've never cheated on her, with a man or woman. That doesn't mean that the urges have gone away. The internet has provided a wonderful outlet for those fantasies, and I indulge myself whenever I'm completely alone. This tryst with you is a fantasy come true!"

     Dad looked me in the eye, took a deep breath, let it out and spoke.

     "See, how could I not be proud of you? You've made your choices and lived with them. I've seen how you and Deby interact and know that you're not faking your love for her, and you`re wonderful with the kids. Remaining true to your marriage just shows me that you've made choices in your life that were right for you. But this scares me half to death. This is the proverbial forbidden fruit and I've tasted it. We can't let this little mistake happen again!"

     "WHOA stop right there!" I cringed at the tone and volume of my statement. "THIS WAS NOT A MISTAKE. We may not want to continue to do this but it wasn't wrong. It was a mature father and son showing their love in the ultimate way. Making physical love, not fucking, not a quickie in some dive motel. I hope we can continue to show each other physically how much we love each other, but if we never make love again I will never think of this night as a mistake."

     Dad mulled that over for a moment before replying.

     "I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't enjoy last night. The BLOW JOB was wonderful!"

     He said blow job with such emphasis that I laughed. I knew that he was making fun of himself for his earlier fellatio comment. It was one of the things I loved about him, his quick wit and ability to make me laugh.

     With a huge grin, Dad continued.

     "Your forcing me to make love to you this morning was also a dream come true.'

     I laughed out loud. Dad was his old relaxed self now.

     "While I have to think that continuing a physical relationship will be full of obstacles, I know that I want it to continue. Forbidden though your ass may be, it was sweet. My choices in life were pretty much as yours. I had my gay connection is high school and college, met your mother and fell in love. I've ignored my gay side, except for an occasional magazine or rented movie for almost 40 years. Having a loving son, to finally share those feelings with, will be a dream come true. BUT.we will have to be very careful. I won't do anything that might endanger your marriage or hurt the kids. If that means that we don't see each other as often, so be it, but I won't let our physical relationship harm anyone even if doing that hurts me. "

     Grabbing Dad`s hand, I pulled him from the couch and into a tight embrace. Kissing him gently on the lips I led him from the room.

     "Come on Dad, there's someplace I want to take you"

     "Where?"

     "A place I like to go to think. It's not too far, it's pretty and we can pack a light dinner. After we eat we can talk some more and watch the sunset. I've never shared this place with anyone, not even Deby, and I want to share it with you."

     "Ok, let me change into jeans. It's getting chilly in the evenings now." Dad said.

     Then he looked me in the eye and laughed

     "You should too you know, you'll chill the family jewels in those shorts this evening."

     I laughed as he continued to his room, "once a parent always a parent"! Letting my gaze drift to the ceiling, I considered just how lucky I had been today. I had always loved my father. He'd always been there for me when I needed him. Now we could love each other in a way few people could understand. Their understanding didn't matter, we were special people, loving in a special way.

     Just as I was considering that, my brain's little trickster popped up.

     "How long can it last?" he asked.

     I didn't have an answer. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.