Date: Mon, 5 May 2003 18:13:18 -0700 (PDT) From: Tom Borden Subject: "The Fourth Dimension" This is a story about a father and his son to whom something happened outside the range of ordinary experience when they found themselves inextricably caught in the Fourth Dimension. My special thanks go to Mark J., my good friend and the best literary critic I know, for his insightful critique of this and other stories I have written. Comments of any nature from readers are welcome and appreciated. Tom Borden Tombor99@yahoo.com The Fourth Dimension Greg Roberts returned home from his law practice every evening at six o'clock in time for supper. He would have one Scotch and soda with his wife, and would sit down for supper, joined by his two children, Scott, 17, and Melissa, 15. They would always converse amicably about the day's activities and the world news. Greg would then usually retire to his office on the second floor to work on his briefs and the various cases he had pending, while his children went to their own rooms to do their homework. Greg was the perfect picture of the proverbial middle class, suburban husband and father. His family enjoyed not only a certain social prominence in the community, but lived in a fine two-story house on an eight-acre lot with a pool and a tennis court. He attended church regularly with his family, volunteered on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day each year to help at the local shelter serving meals to the indigent, and was an active member of his neighborhood action committee. His children were honor students in high school and participated in a host of school activities. After supper each night, Greg would turn on his computer in his office and play a few games of Solitaire to relax before beginning his work. He would also check his e-mail, most of which were from his business associates. But from time to time, he would also find e-mails containing advertisements from mortgage companies, and companies hawking various products, such as hair-loss treatments, weight-reducing plans, and so forth. One evening, he found an ad sent to him by e-mail for some sort of penis enlargement drug. As he scrolled down the page, there came into view several pictures of erect penises with women's faces smiling adoringly at them. He could hardly believe that such a thing would be sent to anyone unsolicited. But he felt his own penis jump slightly at the sight of these women's faces situated so close to these very large stiff penises. Greg imagined those rigid rods entering the waiting mouths of these women and felt his own penis begin to press tighter against his undershorts. Greg and his wife, Janice, had from time to time enjoyed oral sex together. But he had always considered such activity strictly a private affair to be kept in the bedroom between husband and wife. He never expected to have blatantly explicit sexual pictures pop up on his computer just by turning on his e-mail. But yet, there was something strangely arousing about these hard penises. He had rarely ever seen other men's penises when they were hard. After workouts in the Gym, he never saw anyone's penis hard in the showers. He had seen his father's penis many times as he traversed between the bathroom and the bedroom, but never did he see it hard. Greg noticed at the very bottom of the ad three links shown in very small letters. Now slightly aroused by the penis enlargement ad, he entered one of the sites listed. It was a site that required him to register and list his credit card number, which he did not do. But there were about four pictures listed as a preview. They were all of naked men having their very large cocks sucked by beautiful naked girls. Greg had never seen anything like it. Never in his life had he ever seen even a pornographic magazine or video. This was all new to him. The next site was also one that he would have to pay for. But teasers in this one had beautiful women being fucked by naked men. By this time, Greg's penis was at full mast and he struggled to rearrange himself to give it room. The third site, also a pay station, showed preview pictures of only men sucking each other off. Greg felt the blood rush to his head. He shook his head. He didn't know why he was becoming so aroused by the sight of these men sucking other men's penises. One of the pictures was particularly arousing to him. It was a picture of a middle-aged man sucking off what appeared to be a teen-aged boy. He couldn't take his eyes off of it. He quickly logged off and set about working on his cases. But it was hard for him to shake out of his mind that image of the middle-aged man and the teen-aged boy. All the next day, that image haunted him. He sat in a meeting all morning with a number of his associates, with the image continuing to pass through his mind. His penis was hard throughout the meeting, and when they all stood up to leave, he held his briefcase in front of him to hide the obvious bulge. Back alone in his office, Greg did his best to think about his work, but it was no use. He stood up and put his hand in his pocket. It was wet with semen that had soaked through his underwear and through his pocket. He went into his private bathroom and, pulling down his pants, sat on the toilet. He knew that if he could relieve himself of the frenzy that was building up in him, he would be okay. He looked down at his hard penis and wondered how anyone could have as large a penis as those men in the pictures had. His penis looked positively dwarfed in comparison. It took only five or six strokes before he went into orgasm, spewing stream after stream of cum into a wad of toilet paper he held there. That night, Greg turned on his computer again, hoping to find the ad in which the links were listed. But it was gone. He had deleted it in his rush to turn off the computer the night before. On his home page, he typed in the word "sex." A large listing of sites came up. He clicked on the first one. Then appeared a menu listing males and females, females and females, and males and males. He clicked on each of them. He pondered carefully the picture of females sucking males and being fucked by males, and then the one where females were having sex with other females. But when he came to the pictures of males having sex with other males, he felt an arousal that he couldn't explain. He was drawn to those pictures and felt a sexual excitement overtake his body like nothing had ever done before. One of the pictures was of a middle-aged man sucking on a teen-aged boy, very similar to the picture he had seen the night before. As part of this site, there was a message board where gay men could send messages to other gay men. The first one he read was from a young man writing to another. It read: "Hi, dude. Thanks for your message. I liked the description of your cock and your balls. Both our cocks are the same length, eight inches. Send me a note on my private e-mail. Maybe we can meet somewhere. I like to fuck and suck, both. What's your pleasure?" Once again, logging off of his computer, Greg went to bed and lay there in a half-sleep thinking about that one picture. The image swirled around in his mind as he felt sleep overtaking him. Suddenly Greg was back at his computer. He decided to open a new e-mail account and start corresponding with some of these guys. He didn't want to use his regular account, and decided it would be best if he used another name. He settled on the name "Jack." Over the next week or two, Greg wrote and received e-mails from several guys. He was 43 years old, and when he made that known, a number of the young men he started corresponding with never answered back. But Greg was enjoying the sexual excitement he was having from it. Greg's son, Scott, had made a special effort to cultivate an interest in sports and other strictly male interests in an effort to conceal his own sexual attraction to men. He knew his dad was proud of him for his achievements on the school baseball team. He also was convinced that his dad would disown him if he knew his son was gay. He dated girls fairly regularly, knowing that such activity would dispel any thought on his family's part that he might be "queer." He had managed, however, to avoid fucking a girl. The whole idea of touching a girl in that way repulsed him. His only sexual encounter with another person was with one of the baseball coaches. After a game one afternoon, he was asked to stay behind in the locker room by this coach. It was there that the coach fondled him and then sucked him off. It was an exciting experience that gave Scott many jack-off fantasies for months to come. Scott had been getting into gay erotic sites on his computer for over a year. He would race through his homework each night and then open up his favorite sites. He read erotic stories and looked at pictures of gay orgies. He also contacted many of those men who were wanting to correspond with others. He would not only exchange e-mails with them, he engaged in instant messaging with several. Scott's father, Greg, in the meantime was in his own office down the hall, surfing through various sites and exchanging e-mails with several men who were willing to write. He felt as though he had entered a strange world that he had not known existed. He corresponded with men who described their bodies in elaborate detail, with men whose erections were touted to be eight, nine, ten inches in length. He learned of the most incredible sex that men engage in. Several sent him pictures of themselves jacking off or fucking other men. He never in his life thought he could possibly be aroused by such male to male activity. But there he sat, night after night, drinking in the words and pictures of highly sexual men as they described themselves, their sexual acts, and their orgasms. One night, after a particularly long night of studying, Scott was so exhausted, he went to bed without checking out his e-mail. Although he didn't know it, it was the same night that his father had gone to bed with the picture in his mind of the middle-aged man and the teen-aged boy. Scott lay there in an almost dream-like state fantasizing about several pictures he had seen on the internet of older men. He could feel sleep moving in on him, but he had always heard that having pleasant thoughts before going to sleep would give a person pleasant dreams. Suddenly, Scott found himself back at the computer typing an e-mail to someone whose message he had read on the internet. He wrote: "Hey, Jack. I read one of your messages on the message board that said you are 43 years old. I am really attracted to older men and wonder if you would like to correspond with me. Maybe we could talk about things." Scott signed his message with the name, "Toby." Jack wrote back the following: "Yes, perhaps we could correspond. I assume that you are somewhat younger than me. Would you tell me a little about yourself? Then I will do the same. I have to admit that I have an attraction to younger men. Looking forward to hearing from you again. Jack." Toby wrote back saying, "I'm a senior in high school. I'm 5'11" tall and about 170 pounds. I'm not very hairy, but I do have a few wisps on my chest, and my legs have some hair on them. I haven't had much experience with guys, but I jack-off a lot. My hard-on is almost six inches. I've seen pictures of guys fucking and that really makes me hot. Do you like to fuck? Toby." Greg didn't know if he should sound like he was experienced in sex with men, or should admit that he had never had any male to male sex whatsoever. He wrote: "Dear Toby, Thank you for telling me about yourself. I am 6'1", 185 pounds. I am very fit physically and am fairly hairy. I have a good deal of dark hair on my chest and stomach, with thick hair on my legs. I measured my dick just for you. It is seven and a quarter inches, circumcised. I have to admit to you that I have never fucked a guy before, but I think I might like to. Jack." Jack and Toby corresponded several times over the next week. Toby finally suggested that they talk to each other on "Instant Messaging." Toby: I love hairy guys, and your dick sounds so good. Do you jack off very much? Jack: I jack off almost every day, Toby. And I think about you when I'm doing it? Are you very muscular?" Toby: I'm moderately muscular. I play baseball and I do a lot of swimming. I had my cock sucked by one of my coaches once. It was so cool! Have you ever had your cock sucked? Jack: Yeah, but only by my wife. Toby: You're married? Jack: I'm afraid so. I hope that doesn't make any difference. Toby: No! I fantasize about married guys. Does she suck you off a lot?" Jack: Pretty often. Toby: I suppose you and your wife fuck a lot. I'd love to see that! Jack: We do fuck a lot. The other night, when I was fucking her, I fantasized that I was fucking you, Toby. And, wow! Did I ever shoot a load! Toby: Do you ever fuck her in the ass? Jack: About half the time. She loves it. Toby: Oh, I sure wish I could get fucked. Sometimes I use a dildo that I found in my dad's dresser drawer. But I really want a real one up my ass sometime. How about you? Jack: I'd like to try that, too, sometime. I have a dildo, too, but I just use it on my wife sometimes. I think I'll try it sometime and stick it up my own ass. Toby: How do you jack off? Do you do it any special way? Jack: I just fist it with one hand and squeeze my balls with the other. I used to be able to shoot up to my chest, but now as I've gotten older, I can only shoot just a little above my belly button. Toby? Do like to eat your own sperm? Toby: Yes. Sometimes I stand on my shoulders with my legs up against the wall and shoot right down into my mouth. The other night I did that and imagined it was your cum squirting into my mouth. Do you eat your own cum? Jack: Yes. Just lately I've been tasting it, and it really makes me hot. Where do you jack off, Toby? Just when you're in bed? Toby: Usually, but sometimes I love to jerk off in the shower. Jack: Oh, I do that a lot. I get myself all lathered up from head to toe and then jack like mad, sending soap lather all over the place. One thing I like about the shower is that sometimes I take a shower while my son is shaving. And then I jack off knowing he's just a few feet away on the other side of the shower door. It gives me the greatest orgasms. Toby: I didn't know you had a son. Does he jack off, too? Jack: I don't know. But I imagine he does. He's about your age. Who doesn't do it? Toby: I'd sure like to get into the shower with you sometime, Jack. I've never sucked a dick before and I'd like to take your seven inches down my throat. Jack: And I'd like to suck your cock dry, too. And you know what else I'd like to do? I've seen in pictures on the internet guys eating out other guy's asses. That really makes me hot. I'd love to have a chance to suck on your asshole, especially after I shot a load up your ass. Do you have much hair in your ass crack? Toby: Not very much. How about you? Jack: I've got a lot of thick black hair in my ass. Toby: Wow! I'd love to suck on it and then force my tongue into your hole. Jack: I'm sitting here in my underwear, and it's really soaked. Toby: I'm sitting here naked. I have my door locked so my mom and dad won't come in. I've got a hard on, and it's so hard it aches. How about you? Jack: Now I pulled off my underwear, and I'm sitting here stroking a very wet and slimy cock. I'm imagining that it's your lips around it. Toby: Oh, Jack, I love you so much! I want your hairy body pressed against mine and I want you to shoot your cum all over me and then into me. Jack: I think I'm cumming pretty soon. And I want your cum inside of me, too and I want to lick and taste your penis and drink your sweet sperm! Toby: Ooooo, my God, I cumming, too. Ooooo. Take my cum, Jack, my lover. Jack: I'm cumming too. And it's your sperm I feel splashing on my stomach. Ooooo, God! These conversations between the two who called themselves Jack and Toby went on for several weeks. Finally one night, Greg said, "Toby, I don't know if I can stand this much longer. I've got to see you, Toby. I've got to be able to touch you and kiss you and taste your sweet body. Do you think there is someplace we could meet?" Toby said, "I need to see you, too, my dear Jack. I love you so much. I've never had this feeling before. Maybe we could meet in some restaurant and then try to figure out where we could go to be alone." "I'll tell you what," said Jack. "Do you know where the Barnes and Noble bookstore is downtown?" "Yes." "Would it be convenient for you to meet me there at the Barnes and Noble coffee shop there in the store next Tuesday afternoon at 3:00 p.m.? Will you be out of school by then?" "That'll be no problem. I'll be there." "There's a small table there in the coffee shop, over in the corner by the door. I've never seen anybody sit there. Go in and sit at that table so I'll know it's you." "Okay, Jack. I'll have on a blue and white striped sport shirt, so you'll know it's me." "I'll see you then, Toby. I love you so much. And I know I'll probably jerk off a hundred time before Tuesday just thinking about you." When Greg hung up, he looked down at his hard throbbing penis with the long elastic strings of pre-cum dangling from it and forming a shiny pool between his legs on the pad of his chair. He stretched out his legs and began to stroke. He didn't realize that his orgasm was right there, ready to burst forth. Long ropes of thick white cum spewed out of his penis onto the floor. He sat there for many minutes, catching his breath. Then he got up and walked down the hall naked to the bathroom. He was sure that his wife and children were in bed asleep. When he walked into the bathroom, he found Scott standing naked at the toilet wiping his penis. "Oh, dad!" said Scott, quickly dropping the toilet paper into the toilet and turning his back so his dad could not see his wilting hard-on. "I'm just leaving. It's all yours." As Scott left the room, he caught a glimpse of his dad's own semi-hard penis. He thought to himself that dad and mom had been having their own fun and dad was just coming in to clean himself up. Tuesday had finally arrived. Greg entered the Barnes and Noble store and glanced over toward the coffee shop. He could see the back of the person sitting at the designated little table inside the door to the coffee shop, and it was the blue and white striped shirt that Toby had said he would wear. He walked in and, as he walked around the table, the occupant looked up. Greg could feel the blood coursing through his veins suddenly. His head felt a dizziness that almost made him feel faint. It wasn't Toby sitting there. It was his son, Scott. "Oh, Scott! Hello," stammered Greg. "Oh, hi, dad. What are you doing here?" "Well, I just came in here to look at the New Arrivals table," said Greg, his voice quivering uncontrollably. "I like to check out what new books have come in from time to time. And I just thought I'd step in here to get me a cup of coffee to go. What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in school?" "School lets out at 2:30. Don't you remember? I'm just here to meet a friend of mine. He agreed to meet me here at 3:00. But maybe he's not coming after all." "Well, Scott, I'd better be running along back to the office. I have some work that needs doing before I go home for dinner." Greg hurried out to his car. He's knees felt weak and shaky. He could hardly believe this. It was obvious. He had been making love over the internet all this time with his own son! "How could this happen," he thought. "My God, was that my own son writing me all those things? Was that my own son who I jacked off with? My son is gay. My God, my own son is gay." Greg threw himself into the driver's seat and began to shake uncontrollably. He put his hand on the steering wheel, but it shook so badly, he didn't know if he could drive. After finally getting control of himself, he drove back to his office. Sitting at his desk, he stared out of the window, still in disbelief. Scott waited for almost an hour and decided that Jack was not coming to meet him. As he slowly walked down the street to catch the bus home, he felt sad. He felt betrayed. He told himself that no one on the internet was sincere. No one gave a shit. He should have known better. Well, he would let this be a lesson. When Scott arrived home, neither of his parents were there yet, nor was his sister. He went to his room and gathered up the finished papers of a theme he was to hand in the next day. He walked down the hall to his father's office to use his stapler. As he stapled the sheets together at his dad's desk, he happened to see something written on a pad of paper. It read, "Meet Toby at 3:00 p.m. Tuesday, Barnes & Noble, table just inside the door, wearing blue and white striped shirt." Scott stared at the note, not comprehending at first, but being drawn to read it again and then again. There was something about this note. Scott could feel his heart beating in his chest. And then it became patently clear. It was his dad who was going to meet him at the coffee shop. It was his own dad with whom he had revealed his homosexuality. How could this be, he thought. His own dad wanted sex with another man, with a boy his son's age. Scott stumbled back to his room and threw himself on his bed and began to cry. "What have I done, what have I done?" he said to himself over and over. "Everything has gone bad. I don't know what to do. Oh, God, please! This isn't happening." Scott knew that his dad was now aware that it was his son talking with him about sex on the internet. But Scott knew that his dad still believed that his son didn't know that it was his own father. Scott felt as though he wanted to leave the house and never come back as long as he lived. Where could he go? He had no car, no money. He would live in the woods and eat tree bark. Anything would be better than waiting there for his dad to come home. Not only was he terrified that his dad knew of his homosexuality, but the knowledge that his own father was after sex with another man, a teenaged boy, overwhelmed him. It couldn't be true. His own dad. How could that be? Soon Scott heard his father's car pull into the driveway. Listening, he then heard him enter the house and greet his mother. Scott thought, "What can I do? Maybe I could go to sleep right here and never wake up." In a little while, Scott heard his mother calling from downstairs, "Scott. Dinner's ready. Get washed up. Everything's on the table." As though something was pulling him down the stairs, Scott entered the dining room and sat down. Neither Greg nor Scott looked at each other. And neither spoke. His mother said, "What's got into you two? You're both sitting there like you lost your best friends. You look tense. Is something the matter?" Greg and Scott shook their heads and said in unison, "No." Soon, Greg got up and said, "I've got a very important brief I need to prepare for tomorrow morning. If you'll excuse me, Janice." At that he departed up the stairs. Scott's mother put her hand on his and said, "What's the matter, dear?" "Nothing, mom," Scott said as pushed back his chair and got up. "I just have a lot of homework tonight. If you'll excuse me." Scott ran up the stairs and down the hall past the closed door of his father's office. Closing his own door, he once again threw himself on his bed. He didn't know what to do. There was no way he could study. He lay there with tears running down his cheeks, praying that his father would not decide to come in and confront him. As he closed his eyes, he couldn't get out of his mind the image of his own father fucking a teenage boy or sucking his penis or eating out his ass. That's what his father had said he wanted to do. His father had also said that he had masturbated in the shower while he, Scott, was in the same room shaving. Scott whispered aloud, "My own father. How could this be?" Meanwhile, Greg was in his office frantically deleting all of the e-mails on his secret account and then canceling the account. It was his belief that his son didn't know that it was him with whom he was corresponding. Also, he was pretty certain that Scott did not suspect anything when they met at the Barnes and Noble coffee shop. All Greg wanted to do now was to forget that any of it ever happened. He would never again go into those pornographic sites. There was no use working on the brief. He wouldn't be able to concentrate. He asked himself over and over how it could be that his own son was gay. There had been no evidence of it, no reason for suspicion. But at the same time, he thought about how it had only been very recently that he became aware of his own sexual attraction to other males. It had never before even crossed his mind. It had been that fucking internet that did it. Greg wondered how Scott was feeling. He wondered why Scott acted so peculiarly at dinner. Greg was sure that Scott didn't know that it was his father who was corresponding with him. There would be no way for him to know. He thought about going down to Scott's room and talking with him. But why? What would he talk about? Over the next several weeks, nothing was said between them about any of it. Janice, however, could feel the tension between her husband and their son. They rarely talked, or even looked at each other. Finally, one day when he was shaving and his father was taking a shower, on an impulse, Scott threw open the shower door to find his father masturbating. "Oh, I'm sorry, dad," said Scott, closing the door. When Greg got out of the shower, he said, "Scott, I'm sorry. You know, all men have to do that sometimes." Scott didn't know why exactly he had done that. When he went back to his room, he felt a touch of excitement come over him after having seen his dad naked and masturbating. His dad had almost the same body as the one he had described in his e-mails. It was that very body that he had yearned for during his correspondence. It was the same body he longed to have pressed against him. It was the hard penis that he so looked forward to taking into his mouth or into his ass. Why did it have to turn out this way? Greg had also felt a different kind of excitement as he masturbated in the shower knowing that Scott was standing right outside the shower door. He had imagined it was Toby. In fact, lately whenever he saw Scott either naked or standing in the bathroom shaving only in his jockey shorts, he felt as though he was looking at Toby, and it excited him. From the description Toby had given him of his body, why didn't it dawn on him that it was the exact description of his son's body? At breakfast one Saturday morning, Greg said, "You know, Scott, we have that ballgame this afternoon we were planning to go to with those free passes I have. The Astros are playing the Devil Rays. Are we still going?" "I guess so," said Scott, as he left the table. This would be the first time that he would be alone with his father for any length of time. The strain of the last several weeks had taken its toll on both of them. As Greg and Scott pulled into the parking lot of the Astrodome, Greg turned off the engine and started to open the door. Scott blurted out, "Wait, dad. I don't really want to see any baseball today." "But I have these free tickets," Greg said pulling them from his shirt pocket. "Why don't you want to go?" Scott looked down at his hands that were tightly clasped in his lap. After a long silence, he said, without looking up, "You know, don't you?" "What?" Scott raised his voice slightly and repeated, "You know, don't you?" "I don't know what you mean, Scott. Know what?" Scott raised his head and looked at his father. His eyes were red and brimming with tears. "You know about me, don't you? You know I'm queer, don't you?" "Don't use that word!" Greg snapped. "What makes you think I know anything of the kind?" "Oh, dad, please! I'm just tired of all this," Scott said through his tears. "You know what I'm talking about. It's all about Jack and Toby. Remember?" Greg stared at his son, unable to speak. Then he turned and looked out of his window and said softly, speaking the words slowly, "Jack and Toby. Yes. Jack and Toby." Greg suddenly realized that his son knew that his father was Jack, the one who had been corresponding with him. Without looking at Scott, he said softly. "How did you know? How did you know it was me?" "I read a reminder note on your desk to meet me at the coffee shop," said Scott as he stared at his clenched hands. Scott leaned his head over against his father's shoulder and said, "I'm tired, dad. I don't want to pretend anymore. Please. I don't care what happens now. I just don't want to pretend anymore, dad." Greg slowly put his arm around Scott's shoulder and whispered, "No more pretending. I'm sorry, Scott." Greg and Scott sat silently for a long time with Greg holding Scott tightly against his shoulder. Everything that needed to be said was said. Nothing more needed to be said. Not then. They drove home in silence. They explained to Janice that neither of them felt very good and decided to skip the game. Greg went up to his office, and Scott to his room. Both closed their doors. Greg cursed himself silently for having gotten caught up with those people on the internet. Everything had changed. He knew now that the respect of his son, which he had prized so greatly, had evaporated. How could a boy respect or even love his father after reading the horrible, dirty things he wrote in his e-mails. It was over. The beautiful life he had was over. It would never be the same again. He had now become dirty and filthy in the eyes of his own son. Later, after going to bed, Greg went to sleep quickly. But he then awoke suddenly. Looking at the clock, he saw it was already 2:30 in the morning. All thoughts of himself had left his mind, and all he saw as he closed his eyes was the picture of his son in the car the afternoon before, looking at him with tears rolling down his cheeks. What he saw in Scott's eyes was pain and hurt and fear. Greg sat up in bed and said under his breath, "Oh, Scott. I'm sorry. Oh, Scott, I've hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I love you, Scott, and I never meant to hurt you or embarrass you or disgust you. Not you. Never. I would never knowingly do that to you." Greg got out of bed and, putting on his robe, walked down to Scott's room. He opened the door slowly and quietly. He walked in and stood by his son's bed. Looking down on Scott's young face, looking almost angelic in sleep, he shook his head slightly and whispered, "I'm sorry, my boy." Sitting carefully on the side of the bed, Greg reached over and gently brushed his son's blond hair from his eyes. Then leaning over and kissing his son on the forehead, he whispered, "I love you, my sweet young man. No more pretending." Greg stood up and, as he was about to leave, Scott stirred and said, "Thanks, dad. No more pretending." "Oh, Scott. I'm sorry. I thought you were asleep." "I was, dad. But I woke up when you kissed me. And I had that wonderful smell of your skin that I always loved when I was a little boy, and you would hug me." Greg stood at the door and smiled back at Scott. "Tomorrow is Sunday. After church, what would you say if we went down to the marina and took our boat out for some fishing? Just you and me. I think we need to talk about a lot of things." Scott smiled and nodded, and then rolled over and went back to sleep. The marina was very busy that Sunday afternoon. It took a long time for Greg and Scott to check out at the office, gas up the inboard and finally pull out through the channel into the Gulf of Mexico. The sun was bright and hot. They both stripped off their shirts and covered their shoulders, chests, and stomachs with liquid butter from a squeeze bottle that Greg always used when he was out in the sun. "Here, Scott," said Greg, as he handed him the bottle of liquid butter. "Put some of this on my back, and I'll do the same for you." As Scott ran his hands over his dad's back, he felt his penis quickly get as hard as a rock. He had never actually touched his dad's skin that he could remember, and it excited him. It did the same to him when his dad spread the butter on his own back. Greg took a long time smoothing the butter on his son's back, far longer than he needed to. They cast their bate out into the water and just sat there, enjoying the gentle rocking of the boat as the waves rolled by. At length, Scott said, "Dad, when did you realize . . . I mean . . . when did you know . . . well, you know you were . . .?" "Scott, I know what you're asking. I hadn't intended to get on the internet like I did. It just sort of happened. And I'm ashamed of myself for doing it. I know probably that I shouldn't be. But I am. I got caught up in it. Those things I wrote . . . well. Scott, I hope you realize that your dad is human. I mean, sexual feelings are natural for all men. You know, just because I'm an adult doesn't mean that I don't have sexual feelings and desires. I know it's hard for young people to think that their parents ever have prurient thoughts. But how do you think you and your sister were born? I'll tell you it wasn't the stork who brought you." Scott laughed. "Oh, dad, I know how babies are made, and I know that Melissa and I wouldn't have been conceived if you hadn't been sexually aroused. But, dad, what I'm asking is . . . you know . . . about men. I mean, you and men." "Well, again, Scott, that just happened when I somehow got into those damned porno sites on the computer." "You mean that was the first time you realized you . . . well . . . liked . . . you know?" "I have to admit to you, Scott, that it was. I never had any attraction to other men. But after I started talking to Toby . . . I mean, you . . . something just happened. I can't explain it. But how about you, Scott. I never realized that you were . . . you know . . . ." "You mean that I was gay? Dad, I knew that I was attracted to guys when I was eight years old. I always thought I was different from everyone else, you know, sort of off in the head. And I tried so hard to be the man I thought you wanted me to be. I dated and all that. I was so afraid that you would hate me if you found out I was queer." "Scott, please don't use that word. I don't like it. No, Scott, I wouldn't have hated you. How can a father hate his son?" "Some fathers do, dad," said Scott. "I suppose so," said Greg. He reached over and, with his arm around Scott's shoulder, pulled him closer to him on the seat. "But I could never hate you, son, no matter what. I'm kind of sorry I didn't know earlier." "About what, dad?" Scott said. "About you or about me?" "About both of us, Scott. I'm sorry you had to live all these years until now holding that secret inside of you. It's almost as though I never knew my own son until now. We could have shared your secret, Scott, and I would hope that I could have made it easier for you when you knew I understood." Scott could hardly believe what he was hearing. His love for his dad suddenly welled up in him so powerfully that he dropped his fishing rod onto the deck and threw his arms around his dad and hugged him tightly. Greg held on tightly, also, as he felt the skin of their stomachs pressed together and their heads together so their cheeks touched. They could feel sweat running down their stomachs between them, but they didn't want to let go. As they continued to hold onto each other tightly, Scott touched his lips to his dad's ear and said, "Dad, we're out here all alone with nobody around. Let's get naked. Let's take off all our clothes. All we have on now is our shorts." Greg said with a little laugh, "You really want to do that?" "Yeah, dad. You and I don't have anything to hide anymore." Still holding on to Greg and speaking in his ear, Scott continued. "You remember what you told Toby? Remember all the things you wanted to do?" Greg broke the hug and looked into his son's eyes. "Scott, you're a little savage, you know that? You don't think I meant all those things I said, do you?" "Well, it wasn't you. It was a guy named Jack, and he was dead serious. I even masturbated with him. Remember?" Greg laughed and said, "Okay. But we're going to have to put suntan oil on those parts that we're going to expose." Greg and Scott stripped off their shorts and their underwear. They both had semi-hard-ons. Greg felt strangely not embarrassed as they both looked at each other's penises. He said, "I've got to take a leak over the side before I get completely hard and can't do it. As he stood up and pointed his penis over the side, Scott joined him. They both let forth long streams of urine, and Scott then tried to cross his stream with that of his dad. They battled against each other's stream like two swordsmen until there were only a few drops coming out. Scott said, "Now, dad lie down on your stomach on the deck and I'll put some oil on that bottom of yours." Scott applied some oil to his dad's ass cheeks and gently swirled it around. As he knelt down beside his father, he saw that his own penis was fully rigid and actually throbbing as he ran his hands over his dad's smooth, firm and muscular ass cheeks. Those orbs looked so white and pure in contrast to his dad's tan back and legs. Very gently, he ran his fingers through his dad's ass crack and could feel all the mass of black hair that Jack had described to Toby. Scott said, "Jack was right, dad. He does have a nice thicket of hair down here." "Shut up, Scott, and just apply the oil." As Scott felt his fingers touching the hard smooth rim of his dad's pucker, Greg gave out a slight groan and pushed his hole up against his son's fingers. Scott then applied some oil onto the backs of his dad's thighs that had been covered with his shorts. The oil made the hair on his legs stick flat to his skin in interesting swirls. "Now roll over, dad, and let me oil up your abdomen." As Greg rolled over, his hard penis sprung up and stood straight up into the air. Scott poured a little oil on the skin between his dad's navel and pubic hair. Feeling his son's hand gliding over his skin and through his pubic hair, Greg closed his eyes and emitted a kind of growling groan. Scott then took hold of his dad's gorged penis and covered it with oil, following that with a good oiling of his dad's balls. "You know, you didn't have to put oil down there, Scott." "Oh, yes I did!" Greg rose up and said, "Okay, young man, let's get some oil on you." As Scott lay on his stomach, Greg could see that his son's eyes were closed. Pretending that it was his hand on Scott's ass cheeks, Greg leaned over and ran his tongue in swirls all around them, tasting the salty sweat that covered them and breathing in the gentle aroma of Scott's crotch. He had an overpowering urge to plunge his face into his son's hairless ass crack and do what Jack had dreamed of doing: eat out that tender young asshole. Then with Scott on his back, Greg carefully applied oil to his son's penis and balls. Scott looked up and said, "Dad, I thought you said it wasn't necessary to put oil down there." "Well, I changed my mind," said Greg with a smile. Greg stretched out on the deck next to his son and said, "Why don't we lie here and get some sun for awhile before we get back to fishing?" As they lay there, Scott pushed his body up close to his dad so that their legs were pressed together. They both began stroking their penises. Soon Scott rose his head up and kissed his dad on the lips. It was like throwing a switch. It was like a signal to fire all guns, o'er the ramparts, storm the castle, damn the torpedoes! That one kiss opened the flood gates. Greg and Scott threw their arms around each other and rolled over and over on the deck. Their two bodies were inextricably tangled around each other. They clawed and scratched at each other's bodies, biting and licking every inch of each other's buttery skin. Soon, Scott's tongue found it's way into the thicket of his dad's hair-filled ass crack. Slashing it's way through the hair, his tongue reached the hot and musty smelling entrance to his father's body. Greg pushed his hole out, inviting his son's tongue to enter. Greg and Scott soon twisted their way into a 69 position. Each swallowed the whole length of the others gorged and throbbing penises. As they pumped their hips and penises into each other's mouth, they felt themselves slipping into another world and out of reality. Scott's whole world was now reduced to his father's shiny and slippery body. Nothing else existed. Greg, with sweat pouring into his eyes, drowned himself in the feel and smell of his son's body. Then, suddenly, Scott was looking down at his father with his legs pulled up to his chest, his hair-covered asshole open and clenching and unclenching rapidly, inviting his son's penis to fill his rectum. As Scott pushed his rigid pole into his dad, Greg held his son's ass cheeks firmly in each hand, pulling his son hard against him. "Harder, harder," Greg moaned. Scott could feel his whole groin tightening up. He knew he was about to fill his father's rectum with his sperm. He let it go. His penis felt as though it was going to explode as it throbbed violently and as he felt the strong surges of cum coursing up through his shaft and out into his father. He felt his father's fingers digging into his ass cheeks. The world began to spin. He had shown his father the full measure of his love. Everything was whirling about him as he collapsed upon his father's naked, oily, sweaty body. Then he was on his back, watching his father lowering himself down upon him, watching his father's long, hard sex tool disappear into his own ass crack. Nothing had ever penetrated his hole before. But now he was crying out for his father's penis to enter him. The pain he felt as the great phallic member pushed in farther and farther was an exquisite pain. Tears began rolling from his eyes. Dark clouds had rolled overhead and a sudden cool breeze blew over them. Scott looked through blurred eyes up at the face of his father. Sweat ran in streams down that beautiful, strong face. It was a moment like no other in all of creation. The black hair on his father's chest was covered with droplets of sweat. A light rain began to fall, soaking Greg's hair, making it fall down over his forehead and eyes. To Scott, he suddenly looked like a little boy. As Scott reached up and ran his fingers through that black hair, he watched his father's face become contorted, full of anguish, pain, desire, ecstasy, and love. He felt his father's penis begin to throb violently against the rim of his hole, and then came the warm flood of his father's sperm, filling all of his insides as Greg threw his head back and cried out. Thunder could be heard coming closer. Greg pounded his pelvis against his son's ass cheeks over and over, as his orgasm swept over him. Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of lightning and a deafening crash of thunder. Everything went black. ******************************************************************************** Scott awoke suddenly and sat up in his bed. He could hear a strange crackle as he watched a large limb peeling off of the oak tree by his window and crash to the ground. Rain blew against the glass in his window with terrific force. He was lying naked and uncovered. Looking down, he saw his penis was hard, and pools of sperm lay scattered on his stomach. Janice knocked on the door and called, "Scott, dear. Are you awake? It's almost ten o'clock in the morning. I've never known you to sleep so late. The storm is quite bad, so I don't think we'll venture out to church this morning. Are you awake?" "Yes, mom. I'm awake." Scott lay there wondering, dazed and confused. He wiped up the sperm from his belly and then jumped up. Going quickly to his computer, he opened his e-mail. He scrolled through everything looking for the e-mails that Jack had sent him. There was nothing. Even his own messages that he sent to Jack were nowhere to be found. He couldn't understand. How could this be? He had just experienced the most wonderful thing that could ever happen, but there was no trace, no sign of it ever having happened, except for the thick pools of sperm on his stomach. Greg awoke with the same clap of thunder. He looked over and saw that Janice had already gotten up, dressed, and left the room. He was lying on his stomach and his penis was hard and bent to the side. He was uncomfortable lying on it and reached down to adjust it. There he felt the sheet under him, and it was wet and slimy from his own sperm. He murmured to himself, "Oh, my God. Scott. What happened?" As he rolled over and looked out of the window, he thought to himself, "Where was I?" Greg rolled back on his stomach and tried desperately to go back to sleep and re-enter the world he had just left. It was no use. Getting up, he felt the hair on his chest. It was soaked with sweat. His hair was matted down on his forehead. After blotting up the sperm off of the sheet with a towel, he headed for the bathroom. He found Scott just getting out of the shower. They smiled, but didn't speak. Greg looked at his son and into his eyes. There, in those eyes, full of yearning, he could see something that told him that Scott knew exactly what they had both just been through. It was clear that they had both just experienced together something strange and wonderful. As they had often done, Greg took his shower while his son shaved. But this time, there was something in the air that made this otherwise routine morning different and haunting. When Greg got out of the shower, he looked at Scott's image in the mirror and saw his son's eyes red and filled with tears as he shaved. Still, nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said. It was as though their minds and bodies had become one. The storm was over almost as soon as it had begun. The clouds had moved off and the sun, now shining through the windows, filled the house with light. After breakfast, Greg and Scott went out into the backyard to look at the damage to the tree. They both sat down next to each other on a nearby garden bench. As Greg looked at the splintered branch, he said, "I'll call the tree surgeon tomorrow and have that cut up. It'll make good firewood for the fireplace." Then, as though they were both of only one mind, they turned and took each other in their arms. They had hugged each other many times through the years as father and son. But this, somehow, was different. So much different. Neither wanted to release the other. Their love for each other, unspoken, flowed between them like thick, sweet honey. When they broke, Greg said, "Scott, it's a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Why don't we take our boat out on the Gulf and do some fishing?" Scott said, "I was just going to suggest that, dad. It's funny, isn't it? It's as though we both thought of it at the same moment. There is nothing on Earth that I would want to do more today than to go out with you on the boat." After checking out at the marina office and gassing up, Greg and Scott headed out into the open water of the Gulf. They anchored the boat, stripped off their shirts, and cast their bate into the water. As they sat there, Scott looked out over the water and said slowly, "This is a dream come true, dad." Greg sighed and said, "It certainly is . . . Toby." Soon, without either of them saying a word, as though it were pre-ordained---as though everything that was to happen that day was part of a grand master plan to be reenacted, they lay their rods down on the deck and stripped naked. As they both stretched out on the deck, Greg reached for the liquid butter. Comments are welcome. Is it possible for two people to dream in unison . . . as with one mind? Some who are very much in love claim that it is possible. Tom Borden Tombor99@yahoo.com