Date: Mon, 18 Jul 2016 16:27:01 +0000 (UTC)
From: BH
Subject: Dad and Me at the Lake House - 16

"My dad is such a hypocrite," he said. And then he pulled out the biggest
dildo I have ever seen.

-

Shawn was holding it by the base, waving it around like a wobbly sword. He
seemed proud and embarrassed, aroused and horrified, all at once. As Shawn
looked from my dad and uncle to me, then back to the laughing, lustful men,
his expression changed to one of pure excitement. Meanwhile, I felt a
growing unease. Mostly because I knew I didn't want that thing anywhere
near my own ass.

My dad walked up to Shawn and immediately cupped his smooth, pale butt
cheeks. Uncle Steve followed behind, like a hyena waiting for a lion's
leftovers. The whole thing bothered me, all of a sudden. I mean, it was
hot, seeing Shawn as eager as he was. But my mind flashed with images of me
fucking him below deck. How his eyes rolled back exaggeratedly as he rode
me hard, how he made as much noise as possible. As if it weren't about my
dick in him, or being with me at all. But about the show he'd rather be
putting on for Dad and Steve.

And now he was. Shawn bent forward against the steering wheel, looking back
at the two men. Both of them had their hands on his ass now, their fingers
pressing into his waiting hole. Shawn's eyes and mouth were wide open, as
all of him seemed to be. It was no longer the Shawn I'd formed a crush
on. The reluctant boy that picked me up all chill in his unpretentious
car. The charming, understated guy who got me high and made out with me
slowly on the couch, taking our sweet time. The Shawn I was watching now
was performing. He seemed like a cartoon of sex, panting and begging the
men. Winking when he met my gaze.

"I'm gonna go pee," I said. Wanting a moment to myself. Needing one,
frankly.

"Pee off the side," Dad said. "We won't look." Then they all laughed.

"I've got to go number two," I said. Not because I had to. I just needed to
get away.

"Oh, you can't shit in there, bro," Shawn said, like it was against the
rules. Even with Dad and Steve stretching him open from behind.

"Oh my god, guys. Get a clue. I just need a minute. Okay?" And I turned to
get away from them.

"Wait, wait wait!" Dad said. He was the one holding the dildo by then. And
when I looked back, hearing the alarm in his voice, Dad was examining the
toy at its base, up close, like he was reading something.

"Steve. Fuck. Check this out." And my uncle stopped kissing Shawn's neck,
pulled his hand from the dude's ass. And then Dad showed my uncle what he
was seeing.

The end.

I've never seen anything like it. Such immediate panic. Dad and Steve both
wanted suddenly to get off the boat. It was a little like Shawn had been
earlier, when we were below deck. How anxious he seemed, how worried he'd
been when the boat stopped. Only the two of them weren't anxious. They were
afraid. Like, actually. In all of my life, I've never seen such a look in
my father's eyes. And it scared me. To the core

"What do we do?" Steve asked my dad.

If Shawn had picked up on their worry, you wouldn't have known from looking
at him. He stayed in place, his ass in the air. His grip on the wheel firm
as ever.

"We get this boat back to where it was. We clean the fuck out of it. We
pretend none of this ever happened." He nodded. He was sure. So we were all
sure. All except for Shawn, who either understood as little as I did what
was going on, or else he was playing dumb.

"What's wrong? I'm not ready to go back," he said. Not sexy, but
factual. Dad was already pulling his shorts up. Steve reaching for his
underwear.

"Put all that shit back where you found it. Now!" Dad said. And Shawn's
spine straightened. As if it turned him on. He perked up, all playful.

"Yes, Daddy," he said.

"I'm not your Daddy, kid."

Dad sounded stern and powerful. But no one was aroused anymore, other than
maybe Shawn. I couldn't tell. Whatever my father and uncle had seen, Shawn
seemed oblivious to it. Or maybe he was ignoring it on purpose. He was
still performing for them. He pouted, taking the joints and lighter and
dildo down to wherever he'd found them. A strange little strut in his walk.

"Seriously man," Steve said. "What do we do?"

"I told you," Dad said. And he started the boat up with a purr.

"Wait," my uncle yelled, his deep voice growling over the engine. Then he
rushed to raise the anchor. I helped him.

We took off, across the water. Shawn still down below.

We were going fast before, for fun. Now we were tearing through the water
as if we were being chased. Neither of them talking or laughing. Or looking
at each other.

I wanted to ask what was going on, but I didn't dare. And also, honestly, I
didn't want to know. Seeing Dad like that was scary enough, without me
knowing what danger we were in. Still, the fear coursing through me raised
my senses, my awareness. I was amped up adrenaline, curious as
fuck. Watching Dad's face, from the side. Studying my uncle's body
language.

Then Shawn returned. And when he did, it was as if he'd given up whatever
charade. He looked worried, too. Not as afraid as them, but nervous. Like
he knew what was going on and was working through it in his head, what to
do next.

I was the only one who was still clueless.

"Guys," Shawn said. "What's the big hurry?"

"Give me a break, kid," Steve said, sounding gruff as my father does when
he's angry. "We know what you're doing."

"Well, it's too late now," Shawn said, as if it were a threat.

"I'm so confused," I said, getting dressed. Only Shawn was naked now. And
he looked so comfortable, despite everything.

"It's a trap," Dad told me. "I should have suspected." And Shawn laughed.

"Come on, man," he said. "We were having fun."

Dad pulled back on the gas, and the boat slowed suddenly to normal
speed. He made Steve take the wheel. And then Dad spun around, took Shawn
by the wrist, and backed him up against the railing. "You might be having
fun," Dad said. "But this isn't a joke to me. This isn't a joke to my
brother-in-law. This isn't a joke to my boy here."

"Hot!" Shawn said, like he wasn't the least bit afraid of what Dad would
do, despite his size, despite the anger flashing in his eyes. Despite how
far backward over the edge Dad was pushing him.

"Fuck you," Dad screamed in his face, then let him go. "You don't have
anything on us. Nothing you can use, anyway." He looked to Steve, who
confirmed with a nod, still driving the boat. "I'm glad I figured it out
before we played your little game."

"Are you kidding?" Shawn said. "We have plenty."

And Dad looked at me, hard. I didn't know how to answer his glare. I didn't
understand what was happening. Dad must have seen my confusion, because his
expression melted. Part pity, part -- I don't know. Shame?

"What all did you do?" He asked me. But it was Shawn that answered, cocky
as before.

"He fucked me good," he said. "Talking dirty. Talking about you." He raised
an eyebrow, challenging Dad but also bragging maybe. "And in the house,
too. It might not be enough, but it's something. You have a hot boy here."
This time when Shawn winked at me, it sent a shiver up my spine.

"What the fuck, Dad?" I screamed. I was tired of being talked about like I
wasn't standing there. "Tell me!"

Dad explained that there was an emblem stamped onto the base of the dildo,
one that he recognized. "We're being filmed," he said, simply. "Shawn here
works for a company that makes porn. The house, the boat, there are cameras
everywhere." He pointed his finger around in every direction. "What's your
real name, anyway? I know it's not Shawn."

"None of your business, old man," Shawn said, or whatever his name is.

"I think I'm going to be sick," I said. How many hours had it been since
Dad and I were fighting? Just the night before, I had been livid. Having
been tricked, lied to, set up. I was starting to feel like nothing I'd
chosen had been my choice, not ever. Not Shawn, not Steve, not Dad. What
the fuck was going on? And what did it mean what Shawn was saying about it
being "enough" or not?

"Stop the boat," Dad commanded Steve. And then he got physical with Shawn
again, as the boat slowed to a swaying stop in the water. "You're
outnumbered, kid. And I have no problem sinking this boat and all its
cameras, with your bloody body tied up below deck. So why don't you tell me
where the tapes are, and we'll end it right now."

 I could tell Shawn was at least a little scared of my father. But he
didn't seem to take the threat seriously.



"Tapes?" He said, laughing. "It's digital, dude. The cameras feed to the
servers, which are NOT on the boat, obviously." Dad let go of him,
huffing. "Sink the boat or put your hand on me again, and we'll sue the
fuck out of you."

"YOU'LL sue the fuck out of ME?!" Dad said. "How about WE'RE going to sue
YOU guys. You don't have my son's consent. My son who is a MINOR."

"Whatever you say, man," Shawn said. But he had a grin spread all over his
face. He wasn't the least bit worried. In fact he seemed proud. Like one of
those mafia guys in old movies, caught by the police. Untouchable.

"Who are these people?" I asked Dad, wanting answers.

"Gerard Bronson," Dad said. "Owns the lake, practically. Owns the
town. Billionaire faggot with too much time on his hands."

"Your dad and I met him at party once, years ago," Steve explained. "He was
high as fuck and told us about the website, and the rest of it. Weird
shit. Most too taboo to distribute online even. He lures straight guys into
the house. Usually they have no clue they've been recorded. It's fucked
up."

"I should have recognized the house," Dad explained, sounding
defeated. "But I was too busy staring at the Bayliner. Fuck!"

Steve put his hand on my dad's shoulder. "Don't blame yourself, bud," he
said. And though neither of them looked at me, I knew. It was my fault we
were all there. It was me who fell for Shawn's email, let him lure me into
that house. If Dad and Steve hadn't shown up, it would be me alone on
video, roleplaying with Shawn, and probably much, much more. Plus, if I
hadn't fucked him. If I hadn't been so selfish. Maybe it wouldn't have been
anything. And we could have just walked away.

The queasiness I felt, deep in my gut, turned into actual vomit. I ran to
the edge of the boat and barfed, right onto the side. And I didn't feel bad
about it in the least. I felt a hand on my lower back, and when I realized
it was Shawn, I pushed him away.

"Look," he said. "I like you guys. I'm not in business with Mr. Bronson to
ruin anyone's lives or to make anyone feel bad. I'm in it for the
money. And the money is DOPE." Shawn took a deep breath. Let out a long
sigh. "I've only done a few of these gigs, and what we all had going here
today was by far the hottest yet. I'm telling you guys, it's not too late."

"Too late for what? To fuck you on camera?" Steve said.

"Well, yeah. And each other. I don't know." Shawn seemed serious about
trying to convince them. "Kyle here is fucking HOT, underage or not. And
both of you are amazing, straight as fuck studs. We're talking porn
GOLD. And not the kind you find online. The kind Mr. Bronson knows how to
sell and sell and sell."

"What are you suggesting?" Dad asked. As if he wanted Shawn to finish
making his point, but only so Dad could immediately shoot it down.

"Let's get back to it," Shawn said. "Bronson productions aren't streamed
live. They're edited down. He'd cut out all this bickering. Make a
seriously hot feature. First Kyle and me. Then the two of you joining in."
Shawn was pointing to the men, their arms crossed. "If Daddy would be
willing to fuck his boy, pretending not to know it was being recorded. If
Uncle wanted to join in. Maybe take me below deck to make me his
fuckboy. Then the four of us. Oh my god! We'd make BANK, you guys. All of
us. I guarantee it."

"You, maybe," Steve said. "Why should we believe we'd get a penny?"

"I can get Mr. Bronson on the phone right now," Shawn said. "He's probably
already watching the feed. I'm telling you, we have the makings of a lead
title here, I can feel it."

There was a buzz. I heard it first, and then they all did. A phone was
ringing, though the sound was muffled. Shawn gave us all a cocky smirk,
then fished his phone out of his shorts that were lying on the deck. He
answered it, pointing to the screen to show us he was right.

"Mr. B," he said, pacing naked. A little skip in his step. "I know, right?"
And then he listened for a while, his eyes lighting up, then rolling back
in his head like they had when I fucked him. "That's what I'm talking
about. Fuck yeah!"

Dad and Steve gave each other a knowing look. I couldn't tell if they were
actually considering it. But they were definitely intrigued.

"I'll tell them that. Yes, Sir! And that, too. Of course." Shawn turned
away from us and whispered into the phone, but I heard it. "What if they
say no?" He was asking. "That much?" He said. And then, "Hot damn!"

I felt powerless. Whatever my Dad decided, I would do. I already knew
it. And I couldn't figure out what I truly felt, flooded as I was with so
many emotions at once.

"Let's hope so. Yes sir. Okay." And then Shawn hung up.

"Are you ready for this?" Shawn said. And the men nodded. No one seemed to
care what I thought.

"A million dollars. Cash. Today," he said.

"A million?" Dad said, like he didn't believe it.

"Each," Shawn clarified.

"For each of us?" Steve said. Then he let out a belly laugh, pleased. "In
cash?"

"I'm telling you," Shawn said. "We'll all make a fortune. AND have a
terrific time."

"You could buy the lake house next door to mine, the one you've had your
eye on," Steve was saying to Dad. "And your OWN Bayliner." He grabbed my
father by the shoulders and stared at him, eye to eye. "Kyle could go to
any school he wanted." Then Steve laughed again, as if the prospect was
sinking in fully. "And cash!" he said. "I love your sister," he
said. "Maybe we could make things work. Financial pressures gone. Think
about it."

Dad was already thinking about it. Though he wasn't letting what he thought
show on his face. And I was glad, knowing what I'd heard Shawn
whisper. After all, a million was only the initial offer.

"And if we say no?" I asked Shawn. I didn't have to fake ambivalence. I
still wasn't sure any amount of money would make me okay with it, getting
fucked by my father on camera for strangers to see. And with my real
name. And with my real desires out in the open.

"You won't say no," Shawn said. "It's a very generous offer as is."

"Don't talk to my son like that, hear me?" Dad said. And finally he was
looking me in the eyes, searching my face for what I felt. I couldn't tell
if it was an amount he was looking for or willingness in the first
place. Or if Dad's poker face was as good as it seemed. Was he not tempted?
I couldn't tell.

"Alright," Shawn said. "One and a half. Each. That's as high as he'll go."

Dad shook his head, stared down at the wooden deck. Then back at me, diving
back into my eyes.

"What is there to think about?" Steve said. "Bronson already has us on
video. We should make the most of it."

"Steve's right," Shawn said.

"Stay out of it," Dad barked. And then he hugged me. Long and hard. "I
don't know," he whispered. And I stayed quiet. Afraid to say the wrong
thing.

He pulled back and pressed our foreheads together.

"I don't know how to protect you," he said. "I'm a terrible father. What
happened?"

"You're not," I promised him. It was as if my father's worries were
drowning him, and it was up to me to pull him back to the surface. Like it
was Dad, not me, that needed protecting. And from what? Millions of
dollars? The truth being found out?

"I love you, Dad," I told him. "I don't care who knows."

But Dad shook his head, like it wasn't the answer he wanted.

"I don't know what I'm so afraid of," he said. "It's not like the people
buying the porn will be judging us. They'll worship us."

"That's right," Shawn said. "And then they'll forget. It's just porn."

I'm not sure I agreed with him. That people would forget so
easily. Thinking of times I'd recognized guys online from one video to the
next. How I'd jerked off imagining seeing them in reality somewhere. But
something about the way he said it, "just porn" made me feel a little
better. My dad and I had already had sex. We'd already explored that side
of our love. And with Uncle Steve, too. I'd fucked all three of them
already, hadn't I? So what was I afraid of, being found out? "It's just
porn" resounded in my head, a mantra. I imagined them agreeing. The three
of us stripping down again. Getting back into position. I wondered if I
could fake it, turning disgust and distrust back into lust so easily. I
pictured Steve and Dad returning their fingers to Shawn's hole like nothing
had happened. "It's just porn," I thought, picturing it as porn and not
sex. The three of them going at it, pushing the dildo into Shawn as he put
on his show.

But then I pictured Dad and me in the water, him playing with my hole in
secret. Steve's wet hair and ass and balls, climbing out of the water. I
knew when it came down to it, and Dad was on top of me, spreading my legs
with his big hands. Leaning forward to kiss my lips. As long as it was Dad
and not some stranger. As long as he could smile down on me, and take in
the sight of me with his warm eyes. I knew I could get into it, enjoy it
even. In fact, I could imagine being aroused at the openness of it, sharing
our secret with part of the world. I imagined Dad and me on a video screen,
him calling me "son" as affectionately as ever. And how similar we look,
clearly related. And I got hard a little, letting my mind wander there.

"You don't hate the idea?" Dad asked me. And I smelled his breath, and
savored it, his now familiar taste.

"Of us?" I said. "Never." And then I kissed Dad's lips.

"Fuck yeah," Shawn said, seeing it. "Gold!"

Steve put his arms up in the air, like he'd scored a winning goal or won
the lottery, or both. And suddenly it felt final, as if we all had
agreed. Which I guess we had.

But I still wasn't thinking of the money. Of a lake house next to Steve's
or college or anything. I didn't care what that much cash might buy, not
yet. Instead, I was looking into Dad's proud eyes, wondering how soon I
might be alone with him again, pressed chest to chest. Naked on the wooden
deck or in the water or down below on one of those three beds. Maybe all of
them. His fatherly touch all over me, exploring.

It would be like roleplaying, I convinced myself. Because we'd have to act
as if there were no cameras, as if we were oblivious to anything but each
other. But it also meant pretending it's our first time, all over
again. And the thought made me hard.

I pictured Dad as he was when we first got to Steve's. Pent up and unsure
what we were doing. I remembered the thrill when Dad first put his big arm
around me, when neither of us knew what it meant, or might lead to. On the
couch, his hand had touched my knee and had sent a rush right through
me. Like it was the most natural thing, but also reckless and wild. Desire
like I'd never experienced it before. And later, in the tent, him entering
me after all that waiting.

I wanted to feel all that again, that intensity with Dad. And it seemed I
was about to have my chance.