Date: Wed, 28 Jul 2010 19:56:54 -0700 From: DJ Subject: Father and Son Byrne (gay, father/son) They passed their days in June and early July much as they began, Brian working mostly from home, using technology to finesse client meetings all over the world, preferring to stick close when possible. They spent much time together. Their hunger for one another never abated, rather grew more intense as they dared risk a more full expression of the incestuous love they felt with one another. As summer neared its inevitable end, Ciaran's departure for college drew nearer. He began to withdraw, to be edgy, short, argumentative. He avoided workouts and turned surly with Brian on more than one occasion. Brian let his son wrestle with whatever demon he battled, but a growing worry that their relationship was causing Ciaran's unease began to weigh heavily on Brian. He concluded that if Ciaran didn't articulate his issue by week's end, Brian would take the lead to get to the bottom of the distress. Brian planned a getaway, reasoning that a change of scenery might help Ciaran out of his funk. Since they lived in a mountain hideaway, Brian decided that an in-city weekend would be a good opportunity for them to spend some time around other men. He booked rooms in Manhattan for a couple of nights and then, on an impulse, he booked a hotel on Fire Island for three nights. Brian figured exposing them to some pointedly gay life would be instructive and hopefully would help relieve some tension. Brian hoped to inform his son about their getaway over breakfast one morning. He awoke to an empty bed and wandered to the deck. No Ciaran in the pool. He went to the kitchen and saw a note propped against the coffee pot, "Dad, went for a bike ride. I'll be back by 2 p.m. I'd like the chance to talk with you then. Love, C" Brian felt the beginnings of a headache, a sense of foreboding nagged him. His hour in the pool didn't rid him of the worry. He showered and climbed the stairs to his studio. The highest point in the cabin, the studio had windows 360 degrees around, and desk and work space ran the entire circumference of the room. Brian loved being able to choose whichever perspective of the sun he wanted. He tried in vain to settle in to work, a new project for clients in Zakynthos, Greece. The project was large with some particularly interesting challenges. He'd won the project with some trepidation, knowing that he'd have to spend substantial time on site, in proximity to Aisling, whose dig was also in Greece on the mainland. Brian assumed that letting Aisling know of the profound change in Ciaran's and his relationship would likely end their marriage at the very least. He could not ask his son to keep a secret from his mother. It was a price he was prepared to pay. Brian's love for Ciaran had long-since eclipsed that which he had ever experienced with Aisling. He didn't begin to understand, he simply accepted. The feelings Ciaran opened in Brian still stopped Brian in his tracks. He sat at the drawing table and reviewed specs for the project: a remodel of a standing domicile, renovating it and adding a performing arts hall. Achieving perfect acoustics in design was a penultimate challenge for an architect. And, sadly, not one on which Brian could focus as he worried and fretted over his son. He still did early drafts on paper and so with pencil in hand, Brian found himself sketching his boy. His mind worked in concert with his head and his hand. At some point, Brian moved from draft paper to a large sketch pad, the drawing having gained form in his mind now clamored to get itself on the page. Feverishly, he drew, making sure to capture Ciaran's musculature, the flexion of his ass cheeks as he bent over, the fullness of his glutes, the tightness there, his narrow waist and broad shoulders. Brian was heads down in the drawing as Ciaran came to the doorway. He watched his father, whose back was turned from him. Brian was naked, sitting at a high stool. Ciaran saw his dad's thick thigh draped over the side of the stool, foot tapping nervous energy as he concentrated. C loved his dad's powerful build, especially his arms, underarms, chest. Ciaran was clearer on his return from his ride, knowing now what he had to tell his dad, and praying that Brian would understand. Watching him draw made Ciaran so proud of Brian. At the top of his field, Brian never made a big deal about his stature in his profession. He was just dad, a regular guy, and now, Ciaran's incredible lover. But, in fact, Brian was so much more. Ciaran hoped someday to have a career that would make his dad as proud of him as he was of Brian. Brian sighed, looked at whatever he was drawing, and stretched, muttering, "Jesus, Ciaran, you make me..." "What, daddy? What do I make you?" Ciaran said quietly, coming up behind Brian and draping his arms around Brian as Brian quickly covered the drawing. "Why can't I see it?" Ciaran asked. "Because, I'm not ready to show you, son," Brian said almost whispering, sadness in his voice. Ciaran heard the angst in Brian's voice and turned the chair around and peered down into his father's face. "Dad, I know I've been a pain in the ass these past couple of weeks. I've been wrestling with a decision and I need to talk with you, because I've made that decision and I need your blessing. Do you promise to listen with an open mind?" Brian's eyes flashed angry as he fought to control his temper. He breathed deeply a couple long breaths before saying, steadily, glaring into Ciaran's eyes, "When have I ever given you anything BUT an open mind, my son?" Ciaran blushed and cast down his eyes. "I am sorry, dad, you're right. It's just that this is a big one, and I'm afraid to disappoint you." Brian's mind went many places, and he nearly convinced himself that Ciaran was preparing him to be let down as regards the incestuous nature of their relationship. Only his iron willed discipline kept him from bolting the door. Instead, Brian stood and hugged Ciaran tightly, relieved that Ciaran returned the fierceness of his embrace. He dared not kiss Ciaran, and said instead, "If you do your work, son, you will never disappoint me. Tell me." Ciaran said, "Let's sit, daddy, in the library." The library was a two-story room, with wheeled-ladders to the books on the second story. A massive leather couch with throws was the location to which Ciaran steered them. He sat and pulled Brian against him. Ciaran wanted to be close but to not see Brian's face when he gave his news. Brian accepted his son's choice. For a start. "Dad, all my life, you've helped nurture my dream of Olympic gold. You never pushed me, and you and mom always supported me in every way possible. I love you so much for helping me excel, for loving what I've loved. This past year, as I've gotten closer to the Trials, I've started thinking further out, past the Games, and looked at my life – if I won, if I lost. I've considered, I believe, every angle. And, I've decided that I no longer want the medals enough to keep training. Instead, I want to take a year off between high school and college. I want to travel with you. I want to BE with you, and I want us to tell mom about us. After I turn eighteen. Finally, I want us to find someplace in the world where we can go – maybe have a house or an apartment – and be known as lovers, not have to hide. I'm sorry I've been a jackass lately, dad, I just had to figure all of this out. I don't know that I deserve your acceptance of my ideas, but I am hopeful that you will consider them. And that we can talk about it. I love you, dad." Brian felt a lead weight lift from his chest. He began, "May I turn around now and look at my beautiful child?" Ciaran smiled and said, softly, "Sure, daddy." Brian turned and pulled Ciaran's leg so that his son was stretched out on the sofa. He reached down and shucked off his son's shorts and pulled off his shoes. Satisfied at the naked boy, he lay on top of him and drew Ciaran into a long, passionate kiss. "Before we talk about your decisions, let me just be upfront with you, Ciaran. I thought that your angst these weeks was leading you away from me, that perhaps you had reconsidered the nature of this relationship between us. When I contemplated life before having you as my lover, it seemed impossible to fathom. Jesus, Ciaran, I'm so damned in love with you!" "Daddy," Ciaran gasped, "I need you now! I need your daddy cock inside of me!" Brian rose, grabbed lube from the end table drawer, and pushed Ciaran's legs up against his years. He roughly lubed himself and shoved lube into Ciaran's hungry ass. Ciaran grabbed at him, saying, "Hurry! Hurry, daddy, put it in me!" Brian heard the hunger and entered his son in one long thrust, then waited an ecstatic moment, feeling the tight glove of Ciaran's body envelope his thick manhood. Ciaran's eyes rolled up into his head and Brian began fucking his son, hard, fast, rutting and grunting, owning his child, his lover, his boy. Ciaran grabbed his own thick staff and pistoned it, reaching with his free hand to twist Brian's nipples fiercely. Brian let out a wailing moan as he began to squirt his daddy juice into his son's tight boycunt, bellowing "Fuck, CIARAN! FUUUUCK!!!" Ciaran's moans "OH GOD DAD FUCK MEEEEEE!!" echoed Brian's release as Ciaran unloaded jets of thick cream into his hair, his face, and over their heads to the arm of the couch. He didn't withdraw, as they'd learned in certain times of excess passion that Brian could rekindle inside of his son. Instead, they lay still, Ciaran's legs draped over the back of the couch and on Brian's back. Brian looked into his son's eyes and asked, simply, "How much of your decision is based on your not wanting to leave me, son? I need to understand that piece." Ciaran smiled and nodded. "It would be impossible for me to say that it played no role, Dad. The thought of leaving you and going to school half way across the country right now, starting a whole new life without you anywhere near definitely was a disincentive. But my decision is really about how I see my life as an adult. I want to do more, to BE more than a former Olympian, and that's in the best case. I want a career that helps me do something important. I've been thinking that I'd study environmental design, green building, engineering, city planning. I want to learn how to house people in more green ways, Dad. I'm excited to think about this stuff. And, can I see myself working with you in some capacity? Yes. I've dreamt of that forever. I just never had the guts to tell you because before we were – you know – I didn't think I'd be able to stand being around you all the time and also be in love with you." Brian listened carefully to his son, finally understanding that Ciaran had not exaggerated his love for Brian, nor the length of time he'd been aware of those feelings. "Jesus, Ciaran, I'm sorry that you had to hold on to that stuff for so long. And, I'm amazed that you waited so long to let me know. I am so damned proud to be your dad. Mmm, so proud...can you feel my pride?" "Oooh, yes, daddy," Ciaran said as he wiggled against Brian's thickening rod, yes, I can. Give me your pride, daddy, give it to me slow and long..." Brian leaned down to kiss Ciaran, sucking on his son's tongue, biting his lip. He began slow steady long thrusts, burying himself to the balls then coming all the way out, re-entering and burying himself again. He loved to watch Ciaran's ass when he withdrew, still open, still inviting him back in again. And again. Feeling the tickle that tightened his balls, Brian said, "Where do you want my gift this time, son?" Ciaran said, "Sixty-nine, daddy, in each other's mouths!" Brian nimbly rose, Ciaran scooted down, and Brian turned around putting his shaft in his son's mouth, taking Ciaran's down his throat. His fingers replaced his cock in Ciaran's ass, and he felt his own ass open as Ciaran's fingers filled him. Brian moaned his assent, secretly loving that feeling, wanting more, not yet able to say it... He sucked Ciaran's cock, impaling himself on it, opening his throat and managing to kiss Ciaran's belly with his lips. Ciaran did the same and each man felt the honey tightness of the other's throat sphincter. As men who swim, each possessed the ability to hold their breath a long while so they fucked one another's face for long moments between breaths. "Here it comes, Daddy!" Ciaran gasped before he swallowed Brian again. Brian couldn't speak but felt himself offering up his gift again down his son's throat. They resembled a four legged grunting beast as they moaned and released their man juice, then gasped for air, moaning. "Fuck yea, son, you're amazing," Brian panted. "Jesus, Dad, so good," Ciaran responded. Brian rolled onto the floor on his back catching his breath. "Holy fuck, so good..." Brian began laughing. Ciaran giggled and asked, "What?" "I don't know, I'm just relieved, happy, amazed, you know, garden variety awesome crap like that. Let's get cleaned up. We have some more stuff to talk about, Ciaran. Your mom, your future, the surprise I have planned for your birthday..." "Sounds good, dad. And, that one more thing you are wanting to talk to me about." "One more thing? What do you mean, Ciaran?" Ciaran rolled his eyes and said, "Geez, dad, I laid out my gut, are you sure you want me to tell you, or do you want to tell me, like maybe about the subject of the drawing you hid upstairs earlier?" Brian stood up, embarrassed to have been called out by his son, and ashamed to be feeling shy about the subject. The drawing WAS what was on his mind, and Ciaran was right: it was time for him to come clean and talk with his son about it.