Date: Fri, 17 Mar 2023 00:00:00 -0800
From: John Henry <niftyjhenry1988@gmail.com>
Subject: Wish You Were My Dad Chapter 1 (Gay/Adult Youth)

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DISCLAIMER:  This story is a work of fiction, and contains explicit,
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Chapter 1


I grew up in a small, metropolitan area. The next large city was over an
hour away, so we had a variety of cultures, including large countryside
in every direction. It wasn't uncommon for my classmates to go hunting
every fall. They'd come back talking about all the bucks they saw but
never killed. I never understood the fascination with hunting, myself. It
seemed like a waste of time and lives (animal lives, that is). What
caught my attention the most were the stories my friends would tell about
their fathers, as I had never known mine.


Mom had a one night stand at a party her junior year of high school. She
thinks the guy was a college student, who was probably worried about a
rape charge, since she was under age. Mom was never bitter about it,
despite my grandparents freaking out.


She raised me on her own after graduating. My grandparents offered to
keep us at their place, while my mom went to college, but she didn't like
school, anyway. Instead, she got a job at a local grocery store as a
cashier. We lived in a Section 8 housing complex, since she didn't make
very much.


Mom had boyfriends, some with children, but for the most part, it was
just the two of us, which suited me just fine. I don't think I wouldn't
liked having a sibling. I've heard nothing but complaints from my friends
who had brothers and sisters, whether older or younger, and none seem to
get along at all. I had my own room, which always made my friends
jealous.


The only thing I regretted not having was a father. Sure, some of the
guys Mom brought home were nice and treated me well, but most were
assholes, with a few giving offer creeper vibes. These guys would pull me
onto their laps, were overly affectionate, and would seem to find ways to
put their hands on me. One guy, Derek, would always walk into the
bathroom while I was in the bath. I know he was checking me out, and he'd
always take his time leaving. Thankfully, nothing worse had ever happened
to me.


I should mention that I'm gay and have known for as long as I can
remember. My want for male validation helped solidify my desire for men.
Even as a kid, I was attracted to men who treated me with respect and
made me feel wanted (and not in the Derek kind of way). Anytime, Mom
would date such a guy, I became clingy, which probably drove some of them
away. These men were clearly there for my mother, so a little boy wanting
(and sometimes demanding) their time was likely a turn off.


Mom, I think, suspected my sexuality, though she never said a word. I
know a few times, usually after a harsh breakup, she resented me; either
having me or me wanting to have attention from her men. She never said
anything outright, but I would catch her staring bitterly at me. It's
hard for a little kid to take, and I'd often go to bed early and cry
myself to sleep, wondering why I was such a freak and ruined everything.
As the years went by, I was able to control my actions towards Mom's
boyfriends. I put distance between them and myself, even if the guy was
super nice.


A lot of the problem with low-income housing is that it's populated by
single mothers, who have a ton of children. Having lots of friends was
never the problem, but there were no male role models around. Most of my
friends who had dads, who go away every other weekend or on holidays,
while others were in similar situations as me; their father either left
and didn't come back, died or was in prison.


I was 13 when the status quo was shaken. Dylan moved into our complex in
late spring that year. He was a single father in his late-twenties,
raising a little girl, Tiffany, on his own. Tiffany's mother was in
prison for selling drugs, and Dylan was awarded custody.


Nothing got single moms all hot and bothered like a single father of a
little girl. Dylan was instantly popular, almost to the point of fame, in
our complex. He was about 5' 9", athletic build, with an infectious
smile. He did landscaping with his father, while his mother watched
Tiffany. Apparently, they lived in a retirement community of some kind,
so Dylan couldn't live with them.


How do I know all of this? Women love to gossip, and in a small community
like a project, everyone talks.


Dylan lived a few doors down from us. He had to walk by our place to get
to his, which didn't seem to bother my mother any...my either, for that
matter. My mother, like every other woman on the property, flirted with
Dylan, but he kindly rejected every advance. Some of the women were
pissy, while most accepted the situation as it was; the man just wasn't
interested.


One day, as I came home from my friend Thomas's house, I saw Dylan
washing his truck. It was an exceptionally hot day, at least 90ºF. Dylan
was wearing nothing but cut off jeans and sandals. His body was toned and
tanned. I got hard instantly. As he stretched to wash the hood, his
shorts dipped down a bit, exposing what could only be a well groomed
pubic area. I wanted to suck him off right there. I glanced around to
make sure I wasn't being looked at, since I was very much in the closet,
but the women were clearly busy watching Dylan, some looked like they
already creamed themselves.


"Hey, Mikey," Dylan said, as I walked by.


"Hi," I replied. I hated being called Mike and especially hated Mikey,
but Dylan could've called me a faggot bitch for all I cared...and in my
fantasies he certainly did.


"Wanna give me a hand? I can pay you."


I could've shot my load right there. "Sure," I said, trying hard to
keep my voice from cracking. "Let me change really quick."


"No rush," Dylan said, as he went back to soaping his vehicle.


Oh, there was a rush, indeed. I ran all the way to my apartment. Luckily,
Mom wasn't home, so I threw off all my clothes on my way to my room. I
grabbed a pair of shorts and made sure my 5" hard on wasn't too
noticeable. I caught myself in my mirror and felt a little self-conscious
about my body. I was 5' 5" and about 150 lbs. My doctor assured me and
Mom that I was putting on weight for another growth spurt, but I couldn't
only see myself as fat. Mom did say that my birth father was very tall,
so I chose to accept that...until that afternoon with Dylan.


I grabbed a shirt and put it on, as I made my way to the parking lot.


"A little hot for a shirt, don't you think?" Dylan asked, as I came up.


"I guess," I said. I grabbed a rag from his bucket and started to clean
the tires.


Dylan gave me a look I assumed was sadness. He then smiled and sprayed me
with the hose. The water felt both freezing and refreshing. I let out a
scream of shock, which caused my voice to break. I had started puberty
not too long before, and I still hadn't mastered my voice changing. Dylan
laughed and sprayed me again.


We spent most of the afternoon playing in the water, though we did get
his truck cleaned eventually.


"What time is your mom getting home?" He asked, after we finished.


"Eleven, I think. She's working a swing shift."


"Got plans for dinner?"


"TV dinner."


Dylan looked at me oddly and said, "A growing boy like you needs a good
meal, so you're eating at my place tonight."


I didn't know what to say. A part of me wanted to protest out of
politeness, but I wanted to spend more time with him. "Okay."


"Great," He said with a wide smile. "Why don't you change and come by
my place after?"


I changed into another pair of shorts and t-shirt about as fast as I did
the first time. I left Mom a note and made my way to Dylan's. Without
thinking of it, I let myself into the apartment without knocking. I still
had that "no boundary" thing kids have, so I didn't really think
anything of it, since I was invited, anyway.


Dylan's apartment was situated like mine: The front door opened into a
narrow hall. Bedrooms on either side with a bathroom on the right just
passed the bedroom on that side. In the back on the right was the living
room, to the left the kitchen with a small dining area. The doors to the
bedrooms and the bathroom were closed, so I assumed Dylan was in his room
changing. However, as I made my way to the living room, passing the
bathroom, the door opened and a very naked Dylan stood in the doorway.


His naked body was even more impressive than I imagined. His fuzzy abs
continued down to a well-trimmed patch of hair just above a beautiful,
flaccid, cut cock. His dick soft, was about as long as mine when hard.
His balls looked shaved or naturally smooth and were rather large. I made
note of all of this, while keeping eye contact. I got into the habit of
this after getting caught checking boys out in the showers at the local
pool.


"I didn't hear you come in," Dylan said, still all smiles. It didn't
pass me by that he didn't bother covering himself.


"I should've knocked, sorry."


"Nonsense. I asked you to come by. I just thought I'd have more time to
take a shower. Why don't you make yourself comfortable, while I put some
clothes on."


I wanted to tell him not to bother, then wondered if I'd have enough time
to rub one out before he came back out of his room. I decided not to on
both counts. I moved past Dylan, making sure to turn in time to see his
firm ass enter the bedroom across the hall. I sat on the couch facing the
TV.


Dylan's apartment was very clean and organized. If I hadn't known any
better, I wouldn't have suspected that Dylan was a single father, as
there were no toys or other toddler-related items around. The only
evidence of fatherhood came in the form of pictures, which were all off
the walls and in frames. It was very clear that Dylan was a great dad,
which made me instantly turned on and jealous of Tiffany.


"Here we are," Dylan said walking into the living room. He was wearing
board shorts and a tank top. I couldn't tell if he was wearing underwear
or not, but it didn't matter after the show I had a few minutes prior.
"So this is my place."


"I like it," I said. I felt like an ass immediately. I sounded like a
dork.


"Thanks. I wanted to make the place feel more like a house than an
apartment, you know?"


"I've never lived in a house." I didn't know why I was blurting these
things out. I was beating myself up in my head. I wanted to be cool like
Dylan, and I felt like I was coming off as the poor kid I was.


"There's pros and cons, I guess. You get to have your own space to do as
you please, but then again, you get to have awesome neighbor kids to help
clean your truck." Dylan winked at me and I blushed. "Anyway, what do
you want for dinner? I got a grill on the patio if you like burgers."


Hamburger was not the meat I wanted in my mouth, but I accepted the offer
for burgers, nonetheless. I helped Dylan prep the food, while he warmed
up the grill. Our second story view overlooked a large field behind our
part of the complex. Mom said that they were supposed to build more
apartments there, but the owners ran out of money. Us kids would go and
play tag and football during good weather, and have snowball fights
during the winter.


Dylan was a great cook. Maybe I was being biased, but I couldn't get
enough. Dylan laughed and offered me as much as I wanted. We had plenty
of food at my place and Mom was a good cook, so it wasn't like I was
starving, but I had never tasted anything as good as Dylan's burgers; I
ate four in total.


"You must have worked up an appetite out there, didn't you?" I only
nodded. "Well, you're a growing boy, so you really need the protein. I
remember eating all the time when I started puberty and growing. My mom
hated shopping all the time, and my dad bitched about the food bill. I
hope your mom gets a discount."


"She does, I think; plus, we get food stamps."


"Good," Dylan said, "she's going to need all the help she can get if
you keep eating like you are." He gave my knee a little squeeze as he
got up and went to get us more Cokes. My dick twinged at his touch.
Dylan's hands were a little rough, and I imagined how good it would feel
around my cock.


We went back just after sunset. The bugs were coming out and getting
everywhere. Dylan asked if I wanted to watch a movie, and I didn't want
to leave just yet. Dylan asked what kind of movies I liked, and I said
horror. I didn't care too much for horror films, to be honest, but I
wanted an excuse to curl up to him if things got too scary.


Dylan and I sat on the couch. The movie was more of a suspense film than
an actual horror movie, but it had plenty of jump-scares. Dylan
apparently had seen it before and took advantage of my youthful
ignorance. I would get so engrossed in the movie I wouldn't pay attention
to him. Just as tension peaked, Dylan would poke me in the ribs, causing
me to scream and jump. I would then get flustered, while he laughed at
me. He stopped after the fifth one, and pulled me into a side hug,
holding me next to him.


My heart raced but not from being frightened. I could smell his deodorant
and feel the warmth of his body. I put my head on his shoulder and he
leaned his head against mine. I had only been held like that by Mom when
I was a little kid. I felt safe with Dylan, and I wondered if this was
what having a father was like.


I don't remember when or how it happened, but I had fallen asleep before
the movie ended. I was lying down on Dylan's couch...my head in his lap.
I felt Dylan running his fingers through my hair. My dick sprung to
action.


"Hi, Sleepy," Dylan whispered, still fingering my hair. "Did you have
a good nap?"


"What time is it?" I asked groggily but not moving.


"About nine o'clock."


"My mom will be home in a couple hours." I stated this more to myself
than to Dylan.


"Yeah, I called your mom and let her know where you were and what we
were doing."


"What did she say?"


"She said it was fine with her if you stayed the night."


"You want me to stay the night?" I couldn't believe it. I rolled on to
my back to get a better look at Dylan's face, to see if he was messing
with me or not.


"Only if you want to," he said, and I could tell he was being honest.
"Tiffany is with her grandparents for the weekend, and the place is
pretty lonely without her here; plus, I don't like watching movies
alone."


"Can't really say we watched movies, since I fell asleep."


"True," Dylan was still stroking my hair, "but it's still nice having
you hear, even if you were snoring the whole time."


"I don't snore," I insisted, which I already knew was a lie. Mom tried
everything to fix my snoring with no luck.


"Sure you don't," he said with a wink, which made me blush again.


We sat in silence, looking into each other's eyes. He had the richest
brown eyes I had ever seen. It was like looking into a pool of milk
chocolate. Dylan moved his hand from my hair to my chest and began
rubbing it. I had the urge to take off my shirt, so he'd rub my bare
flesh, but I wasn't sure I'd stop with just my shirt; after all, I'd
already seen him naked, and fair was fair.


Instead we watched another movie; this one was an action film. I
continued to use Dylan's lap as a pillow and he kept his hand on my
chest. I casually moved my hand up to his, our fingers barely touching. I
felt his hand move, and I looked down in time to see him lace his fingers
with mine. It was hot and kind of parental. With his other hand, he began
to stroke my hair again. I was so relaxed I fell asleep once more.


***Coming Soon, Chapter 2***