Date: Fri, 26 Jan 2024 02:00:00 -0700 From: John Henry Subject: Wish You Were My Dad Chapter 20 (Gay/Adult Youth) DONATION: Nifty is a not-for-profit organization that heavily relies on our donations to keep the site free and accessible. Your donations pay for web hosting fees and other day-to-day activities for the wonderful staff of editors/publishers. You can donate on the website at http://donate.nifty.org/ Every little bit counts. DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction, and contains explicit, sexual content involving adults over the age of 21 and minors under the age of 13, If viewing this material is illegal where you live, OR you're a minor under the age of 18, please stop reading this. If you're not sure about this legatilty, please stop reading until you have looked into your own, local laws. Any likeness or similarity between persons, places, products or concepts are purely coincidental. If you would like to leave any positive feedback, please let me know. Thank you. Chapter 20 That night in the hotel was magical. Dylan took his time making out with me. I don't think we kissed so slowly yet passionately before. He took his time undressing me, kissing my body as he went. I wanted to undress him, but he wouldn't let me. Dylan said it was all about me that night, and I was to just let things happen. My heart raced as he worked his way down from my neck to my chest, then my stomach only stopping long enough to unbutton my pants. Dylan picked me up and carried me to the bed. His massive arms lowered me with an alarming ease given my size. He removed my shoes and socks, kissing my toes. Dylan then reached up and pulled down my zipper, exposing my new boxer briefs. I gasped has Dylan ran a hand over the fabric just above my already stiff penis. Dylan grabbed the waist band of my pants and pulled them down, sliding them off completely. I watched as Dylan stood up and began to disrobe, which was easily my favorite thing to do. My dick twitched with every movement of Dylan's muscled form, as he removed his clothes down to his underwear. Again, he wasn't a mass of muscles, but his well toned body was clearly defined in all the right places. Once Dylan was down to his underwear, he climbed into bed with me. "How are you feeling?" He whispered. "Happy," I replied. "I don't know how I could be anything else." Dylan pulled into him, and we kissed forever, with the sound of fireworks going off in the distance. I was in heaven. There was nothing that was going to ruin that night for us. I slid my hands down his back, under his boxers and felt his firm, lightly fuzzy ass. We pressed against each other, still locked in our embrace. Dylan ran his hand down my back and pulled down then off my own boxers. I was naked against him, once more. It had become our natural state. Wearing clothes seemed unnatural. Dylan rolled me onto my back and kissed his way down my body again. I moaned when he stopped at my nipples and taking time to lick and tease them. His rough hands grabbed my cock and stroked me, making me shutter and squirm. "I love you, Daddy." "I love you, too, Baby." Dylan sucked my dick slowly. It was glorious torture. I learned how to edge that night, as Dylan took his time with me. He denied my orgasms so much I was in a near sex-craven rage. I begged, pleaded and then demanded him to let me cum, but he'd only chuckle, which pissed me off even more. "Uh-uh," Dylan said, swatting my hand away from my dick. He had gotten up to grab a bag he had hidden in under the bed. "We're not ready for that yet." "Come on!" I cried out. "My dick hurts." "Trust me, please. It'll be more than worth it. I promise." Dylan took out a bottle then turned off all the lights, so the only illumination was from the moonlight. I heard a popping of plastic, then felt a cold liquid and a warm hand on my dick. "Jesus," I cried, as Dylan ran his hand up and down my dick, coating it in the liquid. "If you think that feels good, just wait," Dylan said, after removing his hand. Then I felt the bed pressing down around my hips, then I felt Dylan's naked form sitting on top of me. "Just try to last as long as you can, okay?" "What? Why?" I didn't need my questions answered. Dylan grabbed my dick once more, as my eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. He pointed my dick up towards him, and as Dylan sat down, I felt my body enter his. He was tight and hot. It was like he was giving me a blow job with his fist. He took his time, but after a minute, Dylan's bare ass was on my hips and my dick was buried deep inside of him. "God, you feel amazing," Dylan sighed. "Just relax and let me do all the work." Dylan then raised his body, sliding up my dick, then lowered himself before I dick came out of him. He repeated this motion, and with every moment, I could feel myself getting closer and closer to climax. I watched as Dylan stroked his own cock, moving in time with his hips. "I wanna cum," I panted. "Just a little bit longer, Baby, please! I'm almost there, too!" I grabbed his knees and thighs as he picked up speed. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming," I cried out. "Me too," Dylan said. My balls pulled tight against my body and Dylan's ass, as they emptied their contents inside of my gorgeous boyfriend. At the same time, Dylan's dick unleashed a volley of cum all over my face, chest and stomach. It shot so forcefully, I even heard it hit the headboard behind my head. We both could hardly breathe. Dylan remained seated on me. Any attempt he made to pull me out was met with protests, as I was too sensitive and moving hurt. I scooped up what I could and ate Dylan's cum. We both broke out in a light giggle fit. "I haven't been fucked like that in ages," Dylan said. "Does this mean I'm not a virgin?" I asked. "Depends on your definition, but I'm definitely not by anyone's standards. You're amazing, by the way. I'm the luckiest guy ever." He was finally able to get off of me and we took a shower. I asked Dylan how he was going to get my cum out of him, and he said that he hadn't planned on it. "It's probably the most intimate thing you can do with someone you love, so I don't want to get rid of it unless I have to." "Did it hurt?" "Only a little bit at first. Normally, I would've taken things more slowly, but I know you were going to blow sooner than later, so I rushed it a little, which is fine for me. I very rarely bottom when I'm with guys, so it was nice to do it for a change." I looked confused, so Dylan explained the different positions and roles in sex. "So, I'm a top?" "Well, you're still pretty young to know what you are, like and want, so there's no need for you to put a label on it. You probably should wait till you bottom before making those choices." I got scared. "Are you going to fuck me?" Dylan kissed me and said, "Only if you want me to and you're ready. I don't want you to do anything you're uncertain about, okay? I figured you were ready to top me, since you like what we've done so far. It seemed like a good progression for us." "It was fantastic," I said, hugging him. "I feel the same way. Now, we need to get some sleep before we have to check out." We caught a cab back to the apartments. Mom's car was in her usual spot, so I went to Dylan's so I wouldn't wake her up; plus, I wanted to hangout with my boyfriend some more. We mostly kissed and snuggled on the couch. I gave Dylan one last kiss just after dark and went home. "Hi, Michael," Mom said in a very sickly-sweet way that clearly indicated she wasn't happy. "How was your night?" "Fine," I said, suspiciously. "Is something wrong?" "Why would there be something wrong?" "Because you're talking like there is." I tried walking to my room, but Mom blocked my way. "Can't I get passed, please?" "What did you guy's do last night?" "We just hung out." It wasn't a lie, per se, but I could tell she was fishing; what did she know? "And where did you hang out?" There it was. "We went to see Grandma," I said. As much as I loved and trusted my Grandmother, I didn't want to chance Mom bringing her suspicions up to Grandma, who might say something, accidentally confirming Mom's theories. "Why?" This definitely caught Mom off guard, which meant she was looking for some other information. "I wanted to see her, and she asked to meet Dylan." "Why would she want to meet him?" She asked, emphasizing the last word with disgust. I took offense at her tone and said, "Probably because you keep talking crap about him, and she wanted to judge him for herself." "I don't talk crap about him," Mom replied defensively. "Yes, you do! He's been nothing but nice to us, and all you do is bitch about him behind his back." "Where did you go after Grandma's?" Mom asked, this time with anger. "Dinner, and before you ask, we went downtown to watch the fireworks. Dylan wasn't able to get a cab or rideshare without having to wait for over an hour, so he got a hotel room for us." "And what did you do in the hotel?" "Oh my God!" That's what she was getting at. "We fucking slept," I snarled. "Don't you take that tone with me," Mom demanded. "You think we're fucking, so yeah, I'll take that tone with you. No, mother, we're not fucking. He's my friend. Dylan took me out for a wonderful night, but we didn't do anything sexual. Thanks for trusting me, though." "It's him I don't trust." "No, you don't trust me. You've always been like that when there have been guys who treat me decently." "That's not true, and you know it." "Yes it is true! Every boyfriend you've ever had, who has ever treated me like a son, you've dumped almost immediately." Something clicked at that moment. "Oh God! You're jealous!" "What?!" "You're jealous...of me and Dylan. It all makes sense now." "You're out of line, Michael." "No I'm not! You're jealous that there's a guy in my life who isn't into you, and you can't stand it! Your 14-year-old son has a man in his life and you don't. That's why you hate him despite him being perfect. You can't find anything wrong with him, so he must be molesting me, right? That's what you decided to make up, isn't it?" We were both furious. Months of tension surrounding Dylan had finally come to a head. "I don't like the influence he is on you. Ever since I let you hang out with him, you've had a very sour attitude." "No I haven't! You're the one who's been butt-hurt and talking shit. You're just salty. You're lonely and don't like it. That isn't my fault. Get yourself a man and try to keep him this time." "How dare you?!" Mom cried, tears streaming down her face. My insides were torn up by guilt, but I needed to stand my ground. "Mom, I'm sorry, but you're dead wrong about me and Dylan. I love him and care about him but only like the dad I never had. If I had known you came home early, we would've come straight home instead of going downtown. Me not knowing your plans changed isn't my fault, so why are you trying to punish me and Dylan? It doesn't make sense." Mom was quiet for a few minutes trying to calm and collect herself. She cleared her throat and firmly stated, "You're not allowed to see Dylan ever again." "WHAT?! THAT'S FUCKING BULLSHIT!!" "You're not going to treat and talk to me the way you have and think you're going to get your way, did you? No, I don't think so! You may be 14, but you're still a kid, living under my roof, and you're going to do as I say, go it?" "I HATE YOU!" I shouted and ran to my room, slamming the door behind me. I immediately got on my phone and spammed Dylan. I told him everything that happened, especially about what I told my mother about last night. I didn't want her to approach him and Dylan give a conflicting story. That would only justify that Dylan was a pedophile. I stopped at that point. Was Dylan really a pedophile? Yes, I was a minor who couldn't legally consent to sex, but pedophiles are adults to rape children, right? I decided to look it up on Google and wasn't happy with my results. A pedophile wasn't a baby raper, but someone who had a thing for kids who hadn't started puberty. Well, I had started puberty a few years prior, which made Dylan a hebephile, which was a person attracted to kids who had started puberty but were still considered young-ish, like tweens and kids my age. I settled for that definition, though I knew none of it made the situation sound any better. Dylan responded the best he could despite the bombardment I was hurling his way. I wanted to call but knew Mom would hear me. Dylan was upset, but he told me to give her some time to calm down and not to make things worse by arguing with her. We both acknowledged that she couldn't watch me all the time with her work schedule. "For a few weeks," Dylan texted, "we'll keep things to messaging, and if she still hasn't changed her mind, we'll work something out. I love you and don't want to do anything that will make things a lot worse for us." I knew he meant that he didn't want me to push Mom, since it could drive her to call the cops, which could fuck everything up for Dylan. I promised to be a good boy, told him I loved him, and that I would hope to see him in passing soon. I cried myself to sleep that night. The previous evening was so magical and perfect, which only added to the contrast and disappointment of the conversation with Mom. I closed my eyes and let sleep carry me to Dylan's arms. ***Coming Soon, Chapter 21***