Date: Fri, 26 Feb 2010 09:27:11 -0800
From: Oregon Bear <oregonbear9@gmail.com>
Subject: Coming Out To Dad

This story contains graphic descriptions of consensual adult male to male
gay sex.  If this topic offends you, please leave this site.

Copyright 2010. Oregon Bear.  Oregonbear9@gmail.com

Coming Out To Dad

	I held him close that night, feeling his sobs deep in my chest, his
tears soaking into my shirt.  All that pain inside of him was finally
letting loose, finally turning into the wetness that ran down his cheeks,
into his beard and onto me.
	I'd feared for the worst, when he left this morning.  He was off to
see his dad, to finally tell him his son was gay. Mike had been on pins and
needles for a couple of weeks.  He'd wanted to be honest with his family
about who he was, who he really was.  And, he'd wanted to tell them about
me.  No, I wasn't just his housemate; I was his lover, his life partner.
He was proud of that.  He wanted to let the whole world know.
	But, I knew that rejection was a hard thing.  It had been with me,
when I'd come out to my folks a couple of years ago.  They thought I was
possessed by the devil, that I'd burn in hell forever for my "sins", and
that I was no longer their son.  They tried to get to go to one of those
fundamentalist camps, where I could be "cured".  My dad said I was a
disgrace to the family name.  Still, I told them because I wanted them to
know, I wanted them to know that so very important part of me.
	My mom and I have gotten together a few times since then, and I
think she can find some acceptance in her heart for who I am, who I really
am.  She says it's really hard on my dad.  He keeps it bottled inside of
him, but she knows it eats at him, the silence and the shunning of me, his
son.  He still thinks being gay is against the word of God.  And, I'm not
going to argue theology with them.  But, how can a loving God decree that
some of God's children aren't worthy of love, aren't worthy of being
accepted and embraced for who they really are, deep inside?
	And, Mom is coming around, a bit.  She's been doing some reading on
her own, and talking to some friends.  She goes to a different church now,
a church that takes a more enlightened view of the world, and
homosexuality.  She sent me a sweet birthday card last week, letting me
know that Dad urged her to send me a card, and spoke my name.  It's a
start, and I'm pretty patient.  And, I know they both love me.
	Mike wanted his dad's blessing, to be able to tell him how happy he
was, that he'd met the partner of his dreams, the person he wanted to share
the rest of his life with.  It was something he'd wanted to share in his
life, ever since he was growing up, becoming a man.  It was what any son
wants to do, to share his life and his lover with his family, to be loved
and to give love.
	We'd talked a lot about Mike and his dad.  They hadn't been close
when Mike was growing up.  His dad worked a lot, and didn't talk much when
he got home.  They went fishing together, sometimes, and his dad would go
to Mike's baseball games when he was in Little League.  But when Mike made
the high school team and was the star pitcher, his dad rarely made a game.
The fishing trips didn't happen as much as Mike had wanted.
	Mike had started to realize he was gay when he was in high school.
All the locker room stories about having sex with girls just didn't appeal
to him, and he found himself fantasizing about some of the other guys on
the team.  He dated a bit, because that's what guys did in high school, but
his first couple of times trying to have sex were disasters for him.
	Well, they were disasters for me, too.  I was pretty mixed up
myself when I was in high school.  No one in my family told me what to
expect when I was growing up and hair was sprouting all over and I started
having wet dreams, and began to jack off.  It felt really good, but I
thought I was becoming the biggest sinner around, what with wanting to jack
off all the time and feeling horny and awkward all at the same time.
	Mike and I would laugh and talk late into the night about all the
embarrassing moments and strange thoughts we'd had as teenagers.  Other
guys had lots of locker room stories and bragged about how great they were
in bed.  Neither of our dads would talk to us about sex, and I sure wasn't
going to be asking dad to explain to me how a guy was to make love to a
gal, or why I often felt horny when I saw a good looking man with his shirt
off.
	Mike wanted to be upfront with his dad, to let him know who he
really was and to let him know he was finally so happy.  He's an upfront
guy, and has always let me know where he stood and how he felt about our
relationship.  He wasn't a guy to sleep around, and when we first met, he
took it real slow with me, not wanting to jump into bed right away.  I
wanted that too, in a man, and Mike and I took it slow.
	And, after a month of some real nice dates, and enjoying the things
that meant so much to each of us, the hikes, the bike rides across town and
along the river, and sharing a couple of concerts with each other, we were
both ready to crank it up a few notches, and see how were together, as
lovers.
	He was upfront about it all with me.  I remember sitting out on the
deck of the neighborhood caf‚, just after a leisurely Saturday
breakfast.  We were talking politics and art, and having some serious
discussions.  I remember him pausing a bit, taking the final sip of his
cappuccino, watching the foam stick to his moustache, and taking a big
breath.
	"Tim, there's something I need to talk about, and I really can't
wait any longer," he said.
	The rest of the breakfast crowd had scattered, but we'd been lost
in our conversation for quite a while and had the back part of the deck to
ourselves.
	"I want to try the next level with you, to be, well, intimate,"
Mike said.
	He blushed a bit, and I remember him looking so handsome, with some
redness to his cheeks, contrasting with his neatly trimmed beard.  He
tugged on his ear lobe, a sure sign he was nervous, and I chuckled.
	"Oh, the big topic, " I said, grinning from ear to ear.
	I'd wanted to get him in bed ever since I'd met him, yet I knew it
was important to take it slow, to move along only when each of us were
comfortable.  We'd both been pretty hurt by other guys, and I think I'd
moved too fast, or didn't really know the guy.  Mike had been through a few
breakups, too, and he'd been out of the dating scene for about a year
before we met.  So, for Mike to bring it up now was a big step for him.  I
knew he'd been giving it some serious thought.
	"Yeah, the big topic," Mike said.  "I think I'm ready, and I know I
can trust you.  I'm just scared. Scared of getting hurt again."
	"I know.  Me, too," I said.  "I'm real vulnerable when I love
someone and try to show it every way I can, and then when someone stomps on
me and pulls the rug out from under me, I feel like a real idiot."
	We'd both had our blood tested, and neither one of us had slept
with anyone else for quite a while.  Still, I hadn't gone out and bought
any condoms.  That would just tempt me and I'd find myself in bed with Mike
before I was ready, and probably before he was ready, too.  He was too
special to me to just give in to lust, and not see that being sexual with
each other was really just one part of who we were to each other.  We
needed to not have the little head doing the thinking for the big head.
There was too much at stake, for both of us, and I think we both knew it.
	I'd had a good friend die of AIDS, and Mike had his share of
friends who got careless and didn't take precautions.  Neither one of us
wanted to bring that misery into our lives, not with someone we loved.
	So, we talked for another hour, getting some more coffee and
feeling the warmth of the morning sun on our shoulders, as we talked about
our relationship and what we wanted in a family.  It was such a comfortable
conversation, with Mike eager to open his heart and share with me his
heartfelt desires and needs, how he wanted our relationship to be.  And, I
opened up too, carrying our conversation to a lever so much deeper than
where we'd been, just an hour earlier.
	I felt so relieved.  Here was a man I could open up too, and share
my heart, and put my fears and worries out on the table.  And, he responded
with love and respect.  And trust.  Trust.  Here was a man I really could
trust, not just with my emotions, and my fears, but also with my body.
Making love would really be special, with a lover you could trust.
	We walked down to the drug store, buying a pretty big supply of
condoms.  We were laughing and giggling, picking out colored ones and ones
with flavor.  We got pretty wild, and the clerk who checked us out, he was
trying to hold it together.  He gave us a big thumbs up as we grabbed the
pretty good sized bag and headed for the door.
	That afternoon, we took it slow.  No one got their shirt torn, or
their underwear ripped off.  We were both pretty excited, and started
laughing again at the strawberry condoms and the ones that glowed in the
dark.  It didn't take us long to get naked, but Mike had to do a striptease
for me, putting on some disco music and dancing around the room, flashing
his butt and slowly stripping off his boxers.  I was laughing so hard I
forgot we were going to be doing it for the first time.
	I'd always been nervous with guys, afraid they would think my cock
was too small or too skinny, or that my chest was too skinny, or that I had
too much hair or not enough.  I guess that was a leftover from high school,
when I'd try to be the macho lover for the few gals I had the courage to
ask out, and see if I could "score", so that I'd have my own boastful story
in the locker room.
	But, not with Mike.  He took his time, enjoying himself as his
fingers, and his lips, explored every inch of me.  And, he helped me enjoy
his body, taking my hand and showing my how he loved his nipples pinched,
how he liked his balls cupped, how he liked to have his cock gripped and
jacked a bit.  He took me slowly into his mouth, pushing down my foreskin,
slowly, ever so slowly savoring the contours of my cockhead, gently sucking
out the bit of precum that oozed out of my piss slit, his beard soft
against the silky skin of my cock and the fur of my balls.
	It took me a while to cum, but Mike was a patient man.  Once, I
lost my erection, just because I was so excited and so nervous.  Mike
simply held me next to him, his fingers slowly playing with my balls and
then up to my nipples, lighting my fire again, until I was relaxed, and
hard.  When I came, I gripped his shoulders hard, crying out, gasping his
name as he took my seed deep into his throat, his finger buried in my hole,
bringing my prostate to new heights of delight.
	I'd never had a lover who took his time with me, waiting for me to
be ready, to climb to the very top of where he could bring me.  I'd never
been with anyone I could trust, really trust, like Mike.
	And, so we spent the afternoon together, ordering pizza, and
surprising the pizza man when we both answered the door in the nude, a bit
of cum still dripping from Mike's cock, and on his chest.  I'm sure the
place reeked like sex, and I didn't care.  I wanted to shout to the
rooftops that we were lovers, and that Mike was everything I could ask for
in a man.
	So, ever since, we've been together.  Mike liked my apartment, so
he moved in with me, and we got serious in meeting each other's friends,
and living life as a couple.  Oh, the sex was great and it still is.  But,
there is so much more.  There's the quiet time in the morning, sipping our
coffee and reading the paper.  There's taking turns cooking dinner and
doing the dishes, and giving each other a neck rub after a rough day at
work.
	There's the little notes in my lunch, or the quick little e-mail to
Mike at work, asking how his day is going.  There's Mike showing up at work
at the end of the day, when it's pouring rain outside, and I forgot my
umbrella.  He brought a spare and we walk home together, splashing in the
puddles and singing an old Broadway song.
	I hold Mike close tonight, letting his tears wash some of the pain
away, giving him time, giving him space to breathe, to sort it all out.
	"Your dad probably needs some more time with all this," I whisper,
feeling Mike's head nod against my chest, his breath wracked with a sob.
	"He loves you.  He just doesn't know how to show it."
	"I know.  I know he loves me.  He'll come around.  I just need to
give him some space, to come to grips with what I've told him," Mike said.
"He's probably known for a long time, probably about as long as I've known.
But, when your church and what you learned from your own dad is against
that, it's hard to sort all that out.  Lord knows it's taken me a long
time."
	We held each other, for a long time.  Mike hugged me hard and
choked down a few sobs, the tears flowing again down his face, soaking our
shirt fronts.
	"I love you, Mike," I whispered.
	"I know.  And I love you," Mike replied.  "And I always will."

Copyright 2010.  Oregon Bear.