Date: Mon, 2 Apr 2012 20:42:25 -0700 (PDT) From: D Spam Subject: The Son I Met As An Adult, Part 5 I figure I should tell you all how my son and I first connected. I moved into a house owned by a friend of mine. I think nine people lived there at the time, and there were only seven bedrooms. Alex shared his with his girlfriend at the time. The second day I was there, I walked into the living room, and he was there. He'd heard about me and was looking forward to meeting me. He welcomed me with a big hug and an even bigger smile. I felt an instant connection to him that was different than I'd ever felt with anyone else. He later told me he felt it too. We chatted a bit, I don't really remember the conversation that well. I think he or I were on our way out. Later that day, or the next, I was in my room and saw him walk outside, to the compost bin. He stood behind it, whipped out his beautiful uncut cock, which is the same thickness as mine, but a little longer. I didn't make that comparison at the time, mind you. But watched as he stood there pissing into the compost. I remember what a bright, sunny, warm day it was. He stood there and pissed for what seemed like minutes, as I perved out on him. He nonchalantly zipped up and walked away. That scenario repeated a few times and, once, he looked up at me, and smiled and waved. I was thankful I wasn't leering at him then. I was pretending to make my bed or something. It was May, and his birthday in in early June. He was planning a big party, which he'd decided would also be a going-away party for me, because I had planned to move away at the end of June. I'd admitted to him at some point that I'm into watersports, so he added something about people wearing a yellow hanky in their left pocket. The night of the party, several drunken straight boys took advantage of the invitation and hosed me down. He told me he would too, but he was feeling shy--which is hilarious if you know what a cocky son of a bitch he is. At one point late in the party, he said he was ready but that he wanted privacy. All the other boys had been pissing in my face right in the backyard. Alex took me out to the far end of the backyard. It's a terraced yard, so the back is on a high hill. I'd told him he could get verbally abusive with me, but he said he didn't know if he'd be comfortable with that. Again, he's so not like that, normally. He's into rape fantasy with his girlfriends. So, I took off my clothes and got on my knees. He unzipped and fished his cock out. It took him awhile to relax, but the piss eventually flowed. He hosed me down goo, but I told him I wanted some down my throat, so he aimed it at my open mouth and I drank it down. I love beer piss! Over the next couple of weeks, he'd periodically come to me--often while completely sober--and ask if I was thirsty. I'd always answer in the affirmative, and we'd go to some quiet corner of the backyard. One time, he was pissing in the front yard, after sundown, and a bunch of us were walking back from the pizza place. I leaned over and started drinking, like from a water fountain, but he shook his dick around so I got all wet. No one was phased and all thought it was amusing. Several times during the first several weeks of our friendship, he'd mentioned never having known his bio-dad (his phrase). I didn't want to pry at first, but one day I finally asked. He told me all he knew was that his mom had hooked up with this traveler kid when she was a young woman. He took off, and she discovered that she was pregnant months later. Now, I had already known Alex was born in a little town in NJ. I knew that I had been a traveler kid in NJ when I was younger and had my one and only sexual experienced with a woman there. I jokingly said, "Oh, my god, you're my son!" He laughed, threw his arms around me, and said, "Dad!" He too thought it was a joke. He asked me to tell him the story, and I thought about it for a moment. I did the math and realized it could have been true. He and I were both excited about the idea and started telling everyone. But, at some point, we realized it was kind of a stretch. We seriously considered having a DNA test but, after talking about it quite a bit, decided we didn't want to know. As far as we both were concerned, he was my son, and I was his father. But, that all changed when she came for a visit a year later. We immediately recognized each other. She and I have since become friends. She's a pretty wild woman, and has been living her gay male friend who helped raise Alex, so I'm wondering if Alex and I should consider telling her that I fucked her son. My son.