Date: Fri, 26 May 2023 01:00:00 -0700 From: John Henry Subject: Wish You Were My Dad Chapter 4 (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 4 I sent Mom a text letting her know that I'd be staying another night with Dylan. I made it sound like it was his idea, because, technically, it was. She sent me back a thumbs up emoji. I went to the kitchen and found Dylan preparing dinner. "Hope you like wieners," he said, holding a package of hot dogs. Almost instantly he realized what he had said and panicked. "I didn't mean anything by that," he said as he blushed. I laughed and said, "Yes, I like hot dogs. Liking wieners is just a perk." Dylan turned really red and focused on making a salad. Again, we sat on the patio. I was wearing shorts and a tank top. Dylan was only wearing shorts. Dylan stood at the grill, and we made small talk. Despite having spent most of the day together, we didn't run out of things to talk about. We both liked anime and had similar tastes in music, which dominated most of the conversation. "Maybe we could catch Cardi B next time she's in town?" "Really? You'd take me to her show?" "I don't see why not, as long as your mom is okay with it." "You're the coolest dad ever," I said, smiling. "Shut up and eat your vegetables," Dylan joked as he put some salad on my plate. I was tempted to mess with Dylan while eating my hot dog, but I wasn't sure if he'd appreciate the joke. Once we were done, I insisted on cleaning up and doing the dishes. I felt that I owed it to him for not only taking me to the pool but also for being amazing to me. In the end, Dylan did the dishes next to me; he washed, I dried. It wasn't very fair, since he would occasionally splash me or spray me in the face. By the end, I had to remove my shirt, since it was too wet to continue to wear. Dylan made popcorn, and we sat on the couch to watch another movie. He put the large bowl on my lap and started the movie. It was another horror movie. "I hope you're not afraid of spiders," he said. Unfortunately, I was terrified of them. It was the most frightening movie I had ever seen. I couldn't help but move against Dylan. Normally, it would've been a ploy, but I was genuinely scared. Dylan must have sensed it, because he put his arm around me and held me close. I rested my head against his shoulder and would turn my face into his chest during the really scary parts. Eventually, Dylan had to take the popcorn away from me, since I almost dumped it during a few jump-scares. "Good movie, huh?" Dylan said, his arm still holding me close to him. "That movie was messed up," I said. "God, I hate spiders." Dylan chuckled and put both arms around me, hugging me tightly. I wrapped my arms around his bare chest and held onto him. I shook a little, remembering the movie. "Hey," Dylan whispered, "you're going to be okay, Mikey. I keep my place super clean, so there aren't any spiders here." He rubbed my back and continued to hold me. I pulled away, eventually, and did my best to put on a brave face. We watched another movie, this time a comedy, but I couldn't get my mind off of the prior movie. Once the second movie was over, Dylan turned off the TV. "Are you going to bed," I asked, confused, because it really wasn't that late yet. "No," he said, turning on the couch to face me properly. "I thought we could talk a bit more before then." "Okay. What do you want to talk about?" "Just want to check in with you. That movie really shook you." "I've always hated spiders. Years ago, there was an infestation, and the apartment managers at the time wouldn't do anything about it. I remember waking up to them crawling all over me. It got so bad, I had to stay with my grandmother. Eventually, the health department got involved. Ever since then, I've hated spiders. I still have nightmares because of it." Dylan put his hand on my knee and softly rubbed it. "I should've told you about the movie before starting it, but you also should've told me when you realized what it was going to be about. You need to trust me, Mikey. We can't be friends if you don't." "I trust you," I said, sheepishly. "Then why didn't you say anything?" "Because." "Because isn't an answer." I took a deep breath and said, "I liked when you were holding me. It's how I imagined what having a dad was like." I couldn't look Dylan in the eyes. I felt too vulnerable, much more so than telling him I liked boys. "Did this start because of what happened at the pool earlier?" "No," I replied with a shrug. "I don't know who my real dad is, and I've always wanted one. I wish you were my dad." Dylan pulled me into him and held me. I felt so safe in his arms I started to cry. I don't know why I did it. I wasn't someone who normally cried, but this was the second time in a few weeks that I cried because of him. At least it was for something positive. Dylan rocked me a little and stroked my hair, letting me cry into his bare chest. It was several minutes before I could regain my composure. "Mikey, I would love nothing more than to be your dad. You're an amazing person, and I would be lucky to call you my son." "Really?" I asked, wiping my face clean. "Really," He replied, ignoring the tears I left on his skin. "I know I'll never be your birth father, and as much as I'm sure you'd like it, I have no interest in your mother. She's a nice lady, but she's definitely not my type. However, if you want, you can call me dad or refer to me as your dad in public." Apparently, that was too much for my young heart to handle, and I started crying again. This time, Dylan pulled me on top of him, as he stretched out on the couch. He stroked my hair and held me, as I tried to calm myself down. I finally had a dad, I thought over and over again, and it was the most awesome guy I knew. Like Dylan, I acknowledged that he wasn't my real dad or even a stepdad, but for a kid who grew up without one, Dylan was the best shot I was ever going to get. I was so emotionally invested in the moment, I didn't even stop to realize that I was laying on top of my boyhood crush. I listened to Dylan's heartbeat as he held me and ran his fingers through my hair. At some point, I fell asleep. I had never felt so safe and relaxed in my young life. I woke up when Dylan shifted me, so he could go to bed. I was groggy, and frankly, a little sad that he was leaving me on the couch again. He gave me the blanket and pillow I had last time. As I was about to cover myself up, Dylan took the blanket from me and covered me up. After making sure I was comfortable, he leaned down and hugged me. "Good night, Mikey. I'll see you in the morning." "Good night, Dad," I said. I felt odd saying the words I had longed so much to say, and I was thrilled that Dylan was the one I said them to. Dylan stroked my hair one last time and went to his room. I snuggled into his pillow, inhaling his scent and getting hard. I reached my hand down and into my shorts. I gripped my erection and started jerking my cock. My mind went back to the changing room at the pool. We were there, alone. I watched as Dylan got undressed, his sexy body seemingly more defined than in reality. I watched closely, as he slowly removed his shirt, his shoes then socks. I felt close to cumming when, in my fantasy, Dylan removed his shorts then underwear. His ass was in my face and I reached a hand out and rubbed it. "You like that, Son?" Fantasy Dylan asked. "Yes, Daddy, I do," I purred. "I got something else you might like in your hands instead." Dylan turned around and his cock was sticking straight out. Fantasy me reached out in a weird mix of first and third person. I took hold of his hard-on, which took two hands to hold. I took my time stroking his circumcised cock. It was as hot as it was hard. I felt the veins pulse as I dragged my hands up and down his thick shaft. "Want to taste your Daddy, Son?" "Please Daddy, can I?" In my mind's eye, Dylan took hold of the back of my head and brought it closer to the mushroom tip of his cock. I opened my mouth just as two things happened, snapping back to reality: 1. I shot my load in my shorts having an amazing orgasm...2. I felt something crawling up my leg. I threw the blanket off of me, and saw a small black mass racing up the side of my lower leg. I let out a blood curdling scream and jumped off the couch, slapping at my leg and trying to see if the spider was still on me. "Mikey!" Dylan said over my own terrified voice. "What is it?" "A spider!" I shrieked, still assaulting my flesh. "A spider was on me." Dylan looked around and saw the small spider. He grabbed something off the coffee table and smashed the vile insect. I could hear it being crushed, and it made my skin crawl. Tears fell down my face and crumpled into a heap on the floor. Dylan cleaned up the tiny mess and then put his arm around me. "You're okay, Mikey. I killed it," he whispered into my ear, as I shook in his arms. Dylan helped me up and saw the wet spot in the front of my shorts. "I see," he said, "I didn't understand how scared of spiders you are." I looked a little confused at him, and Dylan, pointing at my crotch, said, "Looks like you peed yourself a little." Embarrassment took hold. I didn't bother correcting him, since it would've been more humiliating to admit it wasn't urine. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Dylan took me by the hand and led me to his bathroom. He asked me to take off my clothes, as he got a washcloth wet. I did as I was asked. My boner was long gone, as I could still feel the spider on my body. He handed me the washcloth, as he took my cum-covered shorts and put them in his dirty clothes bin. I did my best to wipe myself off, but apparently, it wasn't good enough for Dylan. He took the wash cloth from me and began to run it across my groin. He lifted up my penis and my testicles, moving it between my legs and through my small bush. I couldn't help but get hard again. This was better than the fantasy I had only a few minutes before. "There," he whispered, letting go of my stiff penis. "You're all clean." "Thank you," I whispered in return. "I'll get you something to put on for bed," and Dylan left me alone and naked in his bathroom. I wanted to jerk off again but knew I wouldn't have the time. He came back in a few seconds later with a pair of basketball shorts. I slid them on, very aware that my cock was still pointing forward. We made eye contact. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but I hoped it was the same as me. "I suppose you can't sleep in the living," he said as a half thought. "I guess you'll have to sleep with me tonight." "Are you sure you don't mind?" I asked, almost breathlessly. "What kind of dad would I be if I let my little boy sleep alone after being scared like that?" My heart melted, and I almost shot my load again. I told Dylan that I needed to use the bathroom first. He gave my crotch a quick glance, winked and said, "Don't take too long, okay?" I blushed as he closed the door behind himself. I didn't need a fantasy. Dylan had touched my cock and that was all I needed. His hands were rough and felt amazing. He had to adjust his grip as my cock grew in his hand. I kept to the memories of those sensations and actions until I shot my load for the second time. I cleaned up the mess I made with another pair of his dirty underwear, washed my hands and crossed the hall to his room. "Get in on this side," Dylan whispered from his bed. I followed his voice and found the end of the mattress. I laid next to him, and I felt Dylan pull the blanket over me. Next, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a little spoon position. His right arm wrapped around my chest, while his left went under my neck. I could feel his breath on my neck causing me to get hard for the third time within 15 minutes. "Feel better, Son," he whispered. I pressed my body into his and replied, "I do now, Dad." ***Coming Soon, Chapter 5***