Date: Mon, 10 Aug 2020 23:55:31 +0000 From: perseuswrites Subject: A Night Out With My Dad This is intended to be a standalone story. If you prefer a longer read, please check out my other series 'The Glory Days' featuring Jake and his dads, Eddie and Damon. This story stems from an idea I had since writing the first chapter of The Glory Days but I couldn't quite work it into the plot of how I wanted things to go with that story. I didn't want to waste the idea and so here it is. I hope you enjoy. I love hearing from readers and will try and respond as soon as I can. It is a joy to know if you're loving it but also to get constructive criticism. In these times Nifty continues to be an amazing source for great stories and fun. All sexual action in this story is between characters that are 18 or over. Finally, I know it can be difficult and not all of you can, but if you are able to do so, please donate to Nifty. It is a wonderful, dedicated source of so much literature. In these times, we may be turning to this resource so much more. Please consider donating. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html - Perseus (@PerseusWrites on Twitter) *** A NIGHT OUT... WITH MY DAD ========================= Three things had changed in the last few years and I think all of them contributed to the fact that me and my dad had grown a lot closer. We always had a great relationship but these past few years have really shaped us. Firstly, when I was 14, my parents got divorced. My mother was never maternal. Don't get me wrong, we loved each other, she never mistreated me or begrudged having me, but that bond just wasn't there. I wasn't planned and I knew that had I not been around she could have done so much more with her life. She was a talented artist and I think I held her back. She never said that but I just had a gut feeling about it. When they told me they were divorcing, it wasn't a shock. I never really understood my parents as a couple. I would look at my friend's parents and it sort of just made sense but I couldn't see that between mine. My dad was so laid back, barely raised his voice and was hilarious to go with it. Mother, on the other hand, was so serious all the time about every little thing. She was a spiritual lady and so earnest about it all. The only thing that surprised me was that they hadn't divorced sooner. They gave me the choice of who I wanted to live with. I think they both knew I would opt to live with my dad. They were both happy with the set up and it suited us all. It has been going really well. My parents are still friends which is exactly as far as their partnership should have ever got, mother is travelling the country as she always wanted to, and dad and I are living the bachelor lifestyle together. Mother kept the house I grew up in and my dad bought a really nice apartment. A penthouse suite, one of two at the very top of a new residential tower in the city. We were at the beating heart of a hotspot. He was the partner of a very successful law firm in the city and did very well for himself and for me too, I suppose! Secondly, when I was 16, I came out to my dad. I was getting more mature and my dad had been placing a lot of trust in me and treating me like an adult. I thought it was about time I acted like an adult and to be honest with myself and with him. I had known I was gay since I was about 13 and probably had the clich‚ path to self-discovery that every occidental closeted homo gets to have. My dad was as supportive as I expected him to be. He wasn't one to talk about his politics but he was a caring man with a kind soul. I don't think he was programmed to experience hate. He was so reasonable about it too. He gave me sound advice about staying safe, he gave me time and space when I needed it, provided me with privacy when I invited boyfriends around. My boyfriends loved him too. I only really had three boyfriends growing up, the longest being around for a few months, but that's high school for you. They were all closeted and thrived with being able to be open and themselves around a parent even if he wasn't theirs. And finally, when I was 17, my dad came out to me. That one really was a surprise. I don't mean to be stereotypical but I never really got the vibe. He certainly didn't ping on my gaydar but then I guess you never really have that sort of instinct for your own flesh and blood! He sat me down one day and said it as simply and easily as I told him the year before. "Mika, I'm gay." I'll always remember that moment. Of course, I gave him the same love and support he had shown me. A big bear hug, laughs and smiles. He told me all about his journey, how he had always known deep down, how my mother knew already and that was the true reason for the divorce. She was an understanding woman; in her creative circles she was surrounded by gay men. Everything became so plainly obvious the more he went into his story. It explained why there was no animosity between them, why he was so happy for me when I came out to him, and why he had so many male friends stay the night. I felt kind of stupid for not suspecting anything before. Here I am now, at 18, living the best life with my dad, Eliot. We were both single and taking advantage of that fact. Our modern penthouse suite was perfect for entertaining and it was just a stone's throw away from the gay scene in our city. It certainly came in handy! I guess you could say I was a typical twink. Or maybe even twunk? I don't know whether I qualify for that just yet, but I'm working on it. I had floppy bright blond hair. After a wash and a dry it would settle over my eyes, though with the amount of product I slathered through it, it sat on top of my head with a satisfying bounce. It was the sort of hair you could run your fingers through. I worked out in our building's gym as much as possible and I was proud of my body. Thankfully, for me at least, I was quite naturally hairless so there was very little upkeep. I had my fair share of success with the guys. People mistook my taste though - the guys I did like would never usually make the first move when I was out on the pull. I preferred an older man, someone more distinguished and mature. Sure, I fooled around with other twinks from time to time, but a proper good fuck? Older men always hit that spot. My dad was as easy going with his men as he was with life in general. He had all sorts falling at his feet. Men of young and old, of all shapes, sizes and shades. And he relished in the attention. He was still fresh from coming out I suppose. And I have heard that about gay men who come out later in life; its almost like they experience their coming-of-age all over again, relive what they missed out on in their youth. He was a good-looking man. Very good-looking, in fact. The more I think about it, he would definitely be the sort of man I would go for at the bar. At 46 he was greying in the most attractive way. His short, jet black hair only slightly tainted by the silver roots creeping in which gave a very dark, steely hombre. He was almost my exact opposite of me. I definitely took after mother's side. He worked out too, but his body doesn't change in the same way that it did when he was in his prime. A lot more effort shows a lot less results. He had a bit of paunch and a smattering of dark body hair from his chest to his treasure trail. His 6' 4" frame towered over my 5' 9" figure. One thing he takes a lot of care about is his skin. He has a whole routine and he's been doing it since I can remember. Maybe that should have been my first clue! He certainly looks more youthful than other men his age and people don't always think we are father and son right off the bat. After we tell them, there's an initial denial before people look at us a bit closer. There are few giveaways and when you spot them you can't unsee it. Our smile, our nose, our piercing blue eyes. *** "What's up, Mika?" my dad asked, stretching his arm behind me to stroke the back of my head. We had just finished watching a movie and my face must have given me away as it so often does. A facial expression borne of tedium. "I'm just... bored," I said. "I feel like I haven't done anything for days." It was the summer break. I had graduated this year and would start college in a few months. I had had a lot of fun and crammed a lot in but now I wish I had spaced things out a bit more. I guess it was bad planning on my part. This week had just been... meh. "What do you want to do?" he asked, tightening his dressing gown as he walked across the room. It was only 9pm but we were both ready for bed. As he reached the bookcase across the open plan living area, he lifted boxes of games, reading them out as he did. "Oh, we haven't played Scrabble in ages! Fancy being thrashed by your old man?" I laughed. He always beat me at scrabble by a wide margin but it was still so fun to play against him. "I'm not really feeling like a game night, dad, I think I want to go out." "Then go out! The nights young, leave your pa here all alone playing chess against himself," he said with a mock woe to his voice, moving his hand towards the chess board to his left and his bottom lip trembling as he knocked over a pawn. "You don't have to stay in," I giggled as his face broke back into a smile. "We've never been out together before, maybe we should do that!" "We've been out loads of times together!" he shot back. "Not properly," I said, "I run into you all the time because we like the same bars. We talk and we do our thing. That's not the same as starting and ending the night together. Come on, let me have a night out with my dad!" He thought about it for a moment and looked down at his dressing gown. I imagined the mental gymnastics he was doing, weighing up whether the effort of getting dressed would be worth it. "You've got yourself a deal," he said with a wink and I scurried off to get ready. It was 10pm by the time I returned from my bedroom and my dad was ready. He never took as long as me. He was furiously texting someone on his phone as I walked in and didn't seem to register my arrival. "Hey, who's so important that they're distracting you from telling me how great I look?" I said, smirking. He jerked his head up from his phone almost immediately and shoved it in his pocket hurriedly. "Just your mom, she's going to be in town in a few weeks and we're trying to get the stars to align so we can have a nice meal and a catch up together. Anyway, you look great!" "You're just saying that," I said mockingly. "Well, yeah, you kind of told me to!" "Are you ready?" "Ready as I'll ever be," dad said as we made our way to the door. We could easily walk to our preferred bar, The Eden Project, and it was a nice night. My dad started setting some ground rules. I think he was worried I was going to ditch him if I found a better offer, but I would never do that. I understand etiquette! "So, this is our night out, we start the night together, we end it together, right?" "Sir, yes, sir!" I said, as though a cadet in the military. "Don't tease me, boy," he said holding back a laugh. "I guess I want to know I'm not being dragged out for no reason." "I won't ditch you, dad," I smiled and rested my head on his shoulder. "Good," he said wrapping his arm around me to give my shoulder a rub. "But then again, what if one of us pulls?" "Or both of us?" "I guess we make this a night just for us. A no hooking up pact. Can you handle it?" he said, stretching out his pinky finger. "I can handle anything," I said linking my little finger with his. When we reached the bar, it was still quite quiet but starting to fill slightly. We grabbed a couple of drinks and walked out into the beer garden. We talked about me leaving for college, about hot guys we spotted, about anything really. It felt like a night out with my friends. "I think you have an admirer," my dad said out of the blue, and nodded over to the outdoor bar area. An older man about my dad's age was sipping on a martini and shot us a smile and a wink. We smiled back and raised our glasses. He seemed friendly enough. I turned back to my dad. "He's quite handsome, actually," I said. "I thought you would like him," said my dad with a grin. He knew my type and was fine with it. As long as I was happy. "Probably a good job I've got my back to him, otherwise -" I began before being interrupted. The man at the bar had joined my dad and I and we formed a literal social circle. "I hope you didn't mind me admiring you both," he said with a soft and gentle voice. I raised my eyebrows at my dad as if to say 'we're both winners' and he smiled back at me. "Not at all," my dad said. "I'm George, nice to meet you," the man said holding out his large hand for my dad to shake. "Eliot," "And you are?" George asked swapping his hand to mine. "Mika," I said, almost quivering in his strong grip. He was a similar height to my dad and you could tell his fading chestnut hair probably used to be a much deeper brown before time took a hold of it. His eyes wrinkled slightly with his big hearty grin. A smile that could melt a thousand hearts, so full and so genuine. "I have to say you are a very attractive couple," he said and we both chuckled. It wasn't like I was a direct clone of my dad so how was he to know. "You're too kind," my dad said. He had this way of being sarcastic without actually letting on. I picked up on it straight away, but our new friend George wasn't quite getting it. "Can I buy you both a drink?" he asked, pointing to our empty glasses. "Scotch for me, George," my dad said placing his glass on the shelf next to us. "And your boyfriend?" George said turning to me. "Err... me? Err, I'll have a vodka and coke please," I said feeling like I had missed the window of opportunity to correct him. As George meandered through the now much busier beer garden through to the bar, I turned to my dad. "Why didn't you say something!" I said smacking his arm playfully. "Maybe I will if he stops buying us drinks," he said jokingly. It turned out George was very good company. He had funny anecdotes that had me and my dad in stitches. He was so easy to talk to. He had had a very eventful life and he had us gripped with his stories. And he had been topping us up with drinks throughout. It wasn't until I excused myself to go to the toilet that I realised how much time had passed. I had truly broken the seal and was pissing like a racehorse when I checked my watch. 2am! Where had the time gone? I made my way back to George and my dad. "So, enough about me," he said, "how long have you been together?" he asked. My dad and I looked at teach other and smiled. It was only then that I remembered we never actually told him the truth! "Well - " I started "Longer than you might think!" my dad said with a grin. I looked at him confused, and he held up his drink. I remembered what he said about the free drinks a few hours back and held my drink up to show I understood. "No judgement from me!" George said raising his glass with us, thinking we were toasting our long relationship. "To Eliot and Mika!" We all clinked glasses and shouted cheers. It set me off in giggles, how ludicrous the situation was. My dad was very well off, we didn't need to resort to these sorts of games for free drinks surely! Maybe he was reliving his youth with me. These are the sorts of things I definitely did to keep the good times rolling but I guess he never really got that chance growing up. "Forgive me for being crass, Mika," he said to me before turning to my dad, "but he must be a great fuck!" My dad sipped his drink as he nodded. "Well, he is certainly a moaner and I always hear good things," he said trying to suppress a smirk. It only set my giggles off more. Here's the thing about my dad. He's honest to a fault. He doesn't have it in his DNA to lie. But he's a lawyer - he knows how to word the truth to his advantage. He wasn't lying; I am a moaner. And we share a bedroom wall. He's definitely heard good things coming through it. We weren't shy about sex. I mean we didn't do it in front of each other or anything, we kept ourselves private, but we talked about it. And the important thing to my dad was that he was being honest. How George would interpret that was entirely his of his own making. I put my hand on my dad's chest to steady myself. The giggling and the alcohol had converged to make me a very happy and handsy boy. My dad put his hand around my waist, partly to steady me and partly out of his fatherly concern for me. "Yeah, well, daddy likes it rough," I said. In my mind I was referring to the cries of the guys he fucks, the headboard smashing our shared wall to bits. That probably isn't quite how it sounded though. Plus, I didn't even realise that it was the first time all night I had let slip our true relationship. "Oh fuck, you call him daddy. That's so fucking hot," George said, grabbing his crotch to readjust. It was clear he was beginning to chub up. I was off the hook too. He seemed to think daddy was a hot pet name like it would be in most cross-generational relationships. I looked down at George's crotch and instinctively licked my lips. I was actually getting horny now and I was craving some cock. My dad must have noticed me as he tried to subtly remind me of our pact to start the night together and end the night together. "It's 3am Mika," he said tapping his watch, "we should be getting back home." "Yeah..." I said looking at my dad, but my mind still thinking about how hot George's hands would feel on the back on my head or gripping my hair. "George, its been a great night," my dad said, turning to face our new friend. "Do you want to come back for a few more drinks?" I said, before my dad could say anything further. "I sure fuckin' would!" he said. "Is that ok, boss?" My dad stared at me. He was a hard man to read. Half of him seemed annoyed that I was playing this game of mental chess with him, but the other half seemed impressed that I pulled such a move, a sexual Alekhine's gun. "Fine by me," he said with a smile. We left the several drinks heavier. They seemed to have held their drink a lot better than me but I still had all my wits about me. We had a nice slow walk back to our penthouse. George and I collapsed with a sigh into one couch as my dad poured us all some drinks in the kitchen. "Does your boyfriend ever let you fool around with other guys?" George whispered into my ear with a deep vibration that I felt course through my veins. "Let's find out," I said, pulling his face into mine as we launched into a passionate kiss, our tongues clashing, his manly hand gripping the back of my head just as I had fantasised about earlier. We broke our embrace as we heard my dad place our drinks on the table. "Don't feel you have to stop for me," he said as he sat down the couch opposite me. His trademark grin still spread across his face. I looked back over to George. Lust was taking over. Maybe my inhibitions had reduced. They had been plenty of times before, though, and my horniness had never taken control over me like it was tonight. I straddled George, my legs kneeling either side of him as I sat on his lap and began to kiss him once more. His rough hands found their way inside my tight jeans and he cupped my peachy ass, squeezing it gently. I moaned into his mouth as I felt his index finger slide down my crack and circle my hole. I began to grind my hips and his finger rubbed my tight hole, grinding our growing hard cocks against each other. "Fuck, boy," he moaned into my mouth, "I can see why daddy likes it rough." I moaned even louder. I couldn't help it, this man was doing such simple things to me but the pleasure was so intense. Knowing the only audience member was my dad. I glanced over to him and he could not tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him, his grin now wiped from his face and replaced with sheer focus. I didn't dare glance to his crotch. I slid down off of George until I was kneeling on the floor between his legs. I undid his buckle frustratingly slowly and slide his trousers all the way off. His boxer briefs held back his throbbing cock, his precum leaking through. I licked my lips. I wanted that dick and nothing was going to stop me at this point. And George knew it. "Tell me what you want, boy," he said, running his hands through my floppy hair. "I want that fat fucking cock," I said looking up at him. He turned to my dad. "You wanna see your boyfriend choke on my cock?" I didn't hear a response. I didn't turn to see a response. All I know is that George stood up and pulled his briefs down. His 7-inch cock sprang free, a clear drop of precum forming at the tip as he pulled back his foreskin. Moans kept escaping my mouth and I bit my bottom lip. Fuck I wanted to taste that cock so bad! I leant forward, my mouth beginning to pucker. I wanted to at least kiss it, taste that precum on my lips. As I began to inch my mouth towards his throbbing cock, I felt his hand once again on the back of my head. My tongue so tantalisingly close to reaching its goal, but suddenly my head was thrust upwards to meet George's gaze. "He's not going to get a very good view from there, is he boy," he said nodding towards my dad. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet and left me standing in the middle of our living area as he walked over to the couch my dad was silently sitting on and sat beside him. My dad took another sip of his drink, his face now completely indifferent. He was letting on nothing. I began to make my way to George. Nothing was stopping me now. Except I did stop. George had held up his big hand, his palm open towards me. I stood still, staring at his cock which he was gently stroking. "Strip." I looked at my dad again. No reaction. His gaze meeting mine with no discernible expression. I followed my order and slowly took off my shirt, flinging it to the side. I stretched and tensed to show off my muscles, a bead of sweat dripping down my neck towards my pert nipples. I undid my belt to reveal a jock white jockstrap. It accentuated my cock and made my ass look great. I turned around as I hooked my thumbs under the band, giving George and my dad a good look. "Fuck," I heard George say with the unmistakable sound of him slapping my dad's thigh. "You're a lucky cunt." I pulled my jockstrap down and bent to my ankles to grab it from under them, making sure my hole was still on show for my audience. I stood back up and took a deep sigh. This was it. I was going to turn around and my dad was going to see my hard cock. It felt like a point of no return. My 6-inch dick pointed at directly at George as I swung round. I glanced at my dad and for the first time he showed some sort of response. A sort of proud nod. My balls were smooth and tight, my crotch hairless. Finally, George beckoned me towards him and I got between his legs once more. He slapped his cock against my face. "Take it, boy," he said. And I did. The musty, salty taste of his cock mixed with the sweet burst of his precum. My eyes rolled back and I closed them as I wrapped my hand round his cock and sucked deeper and deeper. The head of his cock began inching into my throat and I opened my eyes to see him throwing his head back. "The kid's got fucking talent," George moaned as he began to buck his hips to the rhythm of my sucking. In my peripheral vision I could see my dad, not moving, but simply watching. I could see George's hand stroking his thigh. And then squeezing his bulge. I began to pull back and work George's head, my tongue flicking across the underside of his helmet and piss slit. "Fuck boy, I don't want to cum yet," he said pushing me back off his cock. He stood up and I looked up at him, feeling so small with his large frame towering above me. "Not fair that I get all the fun, huh? Stand up, Eliot." I looked past George's meaty thigh to my dad. My dad looked back at me and then to George. He gulped. And then stood. He positioned himself next to George and I could tell for certain now that he was hard, the bulge in his trousers giving him away. George smacked his heavy cock down onto my face and began slapping me with it. "Your boy is a fucking whore," he said in a deep gruff voice. "My cock looks so big against his face." My tongue was working the underside of his shaft, licking his heavy balls as I got to the base. "Take them off," George said to my dad. My dad unbuckled his trousers and took them off cautiously. I was about to see my dad's cock for the first time since we last showered together. His hard cock. "Keep on sucking me boy," George said, forcing my head back onto his cock and obscuring my view. I looked up at George as tears began to fill my eyes. He was really getting deep to the back of my throat now, the standing position giving him extra thrust to meet my movement. In my peripheral vision, I could tell that my dad's cock was out. I could almost feel the heat emanating from his crotch. I could see that George was stroking him. "Fuck, you're a big boy," he said. I was being teased. I wanted to see my dad's cock in all its glory and I couldn't. I didn't want to hear a description, I wanted to see it for myself. Take it all in. Finally, George loosened his grip on my hair and let me pull off his cock. I rested back, still kneeling but sitting back on my heels. I finally turned to dad. His cock was thick, uncut like me. About 8 inches. The head of his cock was slightly thicker than his shaft before rounding off. It was a fucking hot cock. The biggest I had ever seen in person, pulsing in George's hand. Wait, no. Pulsing in his own hand. My dad had been wanking his own dick as he watched George fuck my face. I opened my mouth and forced myself down onto George's cock once more. My hand had found my dad's leg and I began to gently caress his thigh as George's dick began to choke me. Up and down his thick, hairy, muscular thigh. Another moan escaped. "I want to see your boy take that thick piece," George said and pulled me off his cock once more. I looked up at George who was staring at my dad's cock. I looked to my dad and our eyes met. The tension was palpable. The atmosphere was so thick I felt I could only move in slow motion. "Let me see how you take daddy's cock," George said using what he thought was my pet name for my 'boyfriend'. "You're aching for his dick, aren't you?" I hadn't been able to tear my eyes away from my dad's. The anticipation was unbearable. I wanted it. Would my dad draw the line? Would he stop me? I answered George's question with a simple nod and my dad showed a slight smile. He stopped stroking and held it at the base, pointing it at me. Finally, I could give into the carnal desire that had been building with me since we got back from the bar. My tongue felt electric as it touched the very tip of my dad's cock, circling the head of his meaty cock and savouring his taste. I wrapped my lips around his shaft and slowly worked it. I wasn't just sucking his cock; I was making love to it. My dad let out a guttural moan. I had heard it many times through our shared wall. I knew what was coming as he began to grind his hips. Thanks to George working my throat earlier, my dad's balls were slapping my chin in no time. That sound, skin slapping skin. I grabbed my cock and began to stroke it. I couldn't hold off much longer. "Fuck, he's taking that thick dick like a pro," George shouted. "I'm gonna cum!" I carried on sucking my dad as George's warm load splashed down onto my face and my dad's cock. I hadn't seen my dad's hard cock in 8 years and now here I was tasting hot, salty spunk off it. I pulled off to lick his shaft entirely clean and something snapped in my dad. I knew he was verbal thanks to our shared wall and he had been so restrained so far. "You fucking love cum, don't you slut?" he said looking down at me, George's creamy load beginning to slide down my face. "Yes, daddy," I said pulling off his cock. "Open wide, son," he roared, "I've got a huge fucking load for you boy!" I opened my mouth, my dad looking at me so intensely he could see my soul. "Tell me what you want, boy," he demanded. Another moan escaped. "I... I..." I could barely speak I was so close to shooting my own load. "TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO," he roared once more. "Feed me, daddy, feed me your cum!" He pushed the head of his cock against my tongue and he squirted load after load of his hot, white spunk into my mouth. The taste of his cum sending me to heaven. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as my own cock unloaded all over our living room floor. I swallowed as my dad was still shooting. More of his cum collecting on my tongue. He pulled his cock and used it to scoop the remainder of George's cum from my face and into my mouth. Their spunk mixed on my tongue as I swallowed one last time and collapsed onto my back. *** I woke early in the morning. I checked my phone and it was 7am. I looked around and realised I had fallen asleep on the couch. The memory of last night still very much in my mind. I wondered when it would fade, I thought to myself, wishing I had filmed it all to relive. My head hurt but I guess I must have the hangover horn. I heard my dad's phone buzz with a message on the bedside table. I walked over to his room and he was fast asleep. I had a vague memory of George leaving not long after the action had stopped. It was probably mother confirming the dates for our next meet up - she and dad were talking about it before we left home for the bar last night. I grabbed my dad's phone and looked at the screen to double check and my eyes widened as I read the preview of the text. "George Mackie: Knew I could get your kid to suck your cock! See you at work on Monday, buddy."