Date: Thu, 1 Jul 2021 12:16:24 +0100
From: Phoenix <phoenixvixvi@gmail.com>
Subject: An American Dad in London: Chapter 20

Chapter 20: "His First Hand Job"
All my stories and illustrations: phoenix-stories.com

JOSH:

    "Is this what you wanted? You wanted Daddy to fuck your pussy?"
"Ahhh, yeah." "That's the way. Open that pussy up. Take Daddy's cock. You
want Daddy to cum inside you tonight? You wanna feel your little brothers
and sisters swimming inside your hole?" "Fuck, Dad, yes" ...

    "AH!" I stirred awake in the middle of the night, haunted by dreams
of what happened between Callum and me. Next to me in my bed, a young
woman who I'd met a few days ago was silently sleeping. She'd agreed to
spend the night at my place, probably under the presumption that we would
have sex, but when it came time to "do the deed," I couldn't get myself
to go through with it so she agreed to just cuddle and go to sleep. I
hadn't had sex with anyone since Callum a couple of weeks ago... and I
couldn't figure out how the hell I'd gotten myself in this situation.

    When I had woken up the morning after fucking my son, I felt immense
guilt. If this were any other sex partner, I'd tell them to leave and
never talk to me again, for their own benefit. But this was Callum; I
couldn't possibly cut him out of my life! So what was I to do? While it
was happening, it was evident both of us enjoyed it. But in the light of
day, things felt very different.

    I avoided Callum for a few days after that, until Father's Day came.
It was the poor kid's first time spending Father's Day with his dad... I
just wished he'd gotten a better dad than me. He didn't seem to feel that
way, however. He thought I was the "World's Best Dad," judging by the
present he got me. Indeed, it felt like Callum was fine, and I was the
only person making a big deal out of this. But this was a massive deal,
wasn't it?! How could we just pretend everything was a-okay?

    After our Father's Day dinner that evening, I confessed my feelings
of confusion to my son, who seemed much more comfortable with the
situation than I was. He assured me that this was alright, that he was
alright. That he wanted more. That night, he got more, when he started
sucking my cock while I was asleep until I blew my load in his mouth. He
swallowed every last drop of it, tasting the spunk that made him and
going to sleep in my arms.

    It had been a few days since. I went back on the dating apps in an
effort to find a girl to distract me from what was going on but the
success of that was limited, as proven by the unfucked woman sleeping
next to me right now. I'd been woken up by yet another dream of Callum
and I fucking. Dreams like this came to me most nights now. Feeling sweat
running down my forehead, I checked my phone on the nightstand, just so
I'd have something to do. There was a text from my son sent recently, at
1:03 AM, with just three simple words: "I love you," followed by a kissy
face and a heart emoji.

    Callum and I texted all the time now, even more than usual. If he had
his way, he would spend every night in my bed, but he still had to spend
most of the time at his mom's. At times, when reading Callum's flirty
messages, I realized just how similar he sounded to "Cat" (very
understandable, since they were the same person). Cat had managed to make
me grow attached to her without even meeting her -- something no other
woman on a dating app had ever done.

    Of course, the fact Callum was a guy and not a girl was fucking with
my mind as well. I'd always been extremely open-minded -- growing up in
San Francisco had made sure of that -- and I'd had my fair share of
experiences with guys, but only when women were involved as well. I
remembered conversations with male friends and acquaintances, who
insisted they were straight even though they'd had sex with men. Their
rationalization of it usually boiled down to "any hole is a goal." But it
wasn't like that with Callum and me, not at all! When we were in the
midst of it, I wanted to please him, to pleasure him, to give him what he
wants. And my son seemed pretty clear on what he wants. Which left me
with the question: What do I want?
   For now, I wanted to go back to San Francisco and see the rest of my
family again. Here in London, Callum and I always ended up alone in my
flat, where temptations were high. In California, we'd be staying at my
dad's house again, surrounded by other people, which would hopefully help
us see some clarity... whatever that means.

    But before jetting off, there was one more thing Callum wanted to do
here: go to London Pride. He'd been planning it for weeks with his mates
from school, and I made sure to book us tickets so we would miss neither
Pride in London nor the 4th of July in the States. Callum wanted me to
come watch the Pride parade with him and his friends but I turned him
down, seeing as I didn't want to be the only "old guy" hanging around
with him and his clique. Instead, I went to a gay bar with a large patio
area, and I told Callum I'd wait for him there until the parade was over.

    The bar was crowded as fuck, and I felt obligated to have a few
drinks just so I could keep up with everyone else. Plenty of guys tried
to hit on me, but I turned them down. My son showed up a couple of hours
later, wearing a flamboyant crop top and short shorts, along with plenty
of rainbow patterns on his face, socks, and shoelaces.

    "Is that what you chose to wear?" I said loudly so he could hear me
over the noise of the crowd. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, which
smudged some of the face paint that was on there.

    "Yeah, you like it?" Callum turned around, showing off his exposed
midriff for me.

    "It's... something," I laughed.

    "And the best part," my son said, pulling down the back of his shorts
a bit and pulling up a waistband that said Trophy Boy on it. Callum was
wearing a jockstrap, and I recognized it as the jock I'd bought him for
Christmas, last time we were in SF and at a sex shop together.

    I still remembered vividly what my son looked like with nothing else
but that jock on. His ass looked phenomenal in it. Now, I patted his
bubble butt through his shorts and said, "C'mon, let's get you a drink."

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    My son and his friends had managed to get their hands on some booze
earlier as well, so Callum had already had a few drinks. He didn't seem
drunk, but he was definitely feeling some liquid courage. He flirted with
me -- and with other guys at the gay bar. It was good to see him this
way. I wanted my son to be confident, and I knew it wasn't always easy
for him since he had a tendency to be shy. It seemed like he was growing
out of it. However, I also felt a pang of... jealousy to see him
attracting other men's attention like this and reveling in it. I NEVER
felt jealousy like this. But today, I found myself reaching for my son's
exposed lower back, feeling the sweat that was there, pulling him in so
that everyone at the bar would know he was with me.

    The venue was too loud to talk much, so we mostly danced. There were
quite a few gay couples around us, and it almost felt like we were one of
them. The other couples made out; some of them getting really explicit
and letting their hands roam everywhere, from pecs to asses to growing
bulges. Some of the guys were dressed sexier than others, including a few
who were practically naked, which sure made the hot summer day feel even
hotter.

    "Come with me to the loo," my son suddenly said in my ear. I was
confused by his suggestion but didn't have much time to question it,
since Callum was already pulling my hand and leading me toward the
bathroom.

    The line for the men's room was long, but it seemed to be moving
quickly. "What're doing?" I asked Callum as we waited in line.

    "I just want us to have some alone time, that's all," he said coyly.

    "Let's go back to my place then," I suggested. "It's only a couple of
minutes away."

    "No, the streets are too crowded and it'll take us longer than that.
Besides, I wanna do it here. C'mon," he said, pulling me in since it was
our turn to head into the men's room.

    "Do WHAT here?" I asked myself as Callum led us into a stall and
closed the door behind us. Plenty of guys noticed there were two of us
going in one cubicle, but nobody blinked an eye.

    In the narrow stall, Callum threw his arms around me and started
kissing me. I could taste the liquor on his lips, mixing with the taste
of booze in my own mouth. My son had definitely found his confident side
today more than ever! I put my arms around Callum as well and before I
knew it I was pulling off his crop top, letting it drop to the floor.
More passionate kissing followed, during which I was able to completely
let go and forget all of my doubts and insecurities about Callum and me.
Instead, I had my hands running down his back, pulling him into my mouth
and tugging on the waistband of his jockstrap.

    "Take those shorts off," I said quietly as men came in and out of the
restroom, pissing and talking and washing their hands. My son did as he
was told, and a few seconds later his shorts were down around his ankles.
Callum now stood in front of me in the jock I'd bought him, looking
absolutely stunning. He knew what I really wanted to see and didn't even
need me to ask him to turn around. He did it all by himself, showing off
that perfect ass of his for me, flexing his glutes and driving me wild.

    Unable to control myself, I dropped down to my knees and buried my
tongue between Callum's asscheeks.

    "AAAH!" he moaned out in pleasure. By now, everyone in the men's room
probably knew there were two guys hooking up in one of the stalls. If
only they knew those two guys were father and son...

    I ate Callum's ass for a while, touching his smooth hole with the tip
of my tongue slowly before inserting all of it in. My son moaned
unrestrictedly, not giving a damn that we were in public. Indeed, he
seemed to be enjoying it; he was the one who insisted we do this here
rather than go back to my flat after all.

    While rimming Callum, my hands traveled up his legs and stroked the
outside of his thighs before turning inward. In between my son's legs, I
found his teenage cock hard as a rock, leaking precum into the pouch of
the jock. So far, Callum always received pleasure through his ass,
whether he was hooking up with me or my buddy Ben, who'd taken Callum's
virginity. But today, I wanted my son to experience a new sensation: I
wanted to be the one to work on his cock. I'd jerked myself off often
enough to know how to work a dick, I figured. With my hands on Callum's
hips, I made him do a 180, until I was faced with the boner inside his
jock and grazing it with the tip of my nose.

    I took a big whiff, able to smell the precum which my son had leaked
out. I licked my lips and put my hands inside his pouch, taking out his
hard-on.

    "Oh, fuck," Callum moaned as I started to stroke his dick. I made
sure to get his precum all over my hands, so I could use it as lube and
bring my son even more pleasure. I'm not sure what my son expected would
happen between us in the men's room -- maybe we'd just make out -- but I
could tell he was surprised that I'd started this at my own volition. He
looked down, right into my eyes, and mouthed a single "Fuck."

    I'd touched a few men's dicks before, usually while DP-ing a girl
with another guy, but I'd never given anyone else an honest hand job. I
always took pride in getting things right at the first go, and judging by
my son's reaction I was doing everything correctly. I used long strokes
from Callum's cockhead all the way to his neatly trimmed pubes. With each
forward stroke, I saw more precum leaking out of my son's piss slit.
Tempted by it, I rubbed my thumb against his sensitive glans and I got
some precum on it before leading it to my mouth and tasting it.

    "Fuck, Dad..." Callum whispered quietly so no one else could hear. I
continued to jack him off, driving him close to the edge until I had him
panting. "Dad, Dad... I'm gonna-- I'm gonna cum!"

    With that, a huge spurt of jizz shot out of my son's cock, landing
all over my face. I couldn't stop now -- and neither did I want to -- so
I kept going, gripping him tighter and stroking him faster as he shot a
second, third, and fourth wad of spunk. Each rope managed to hit my cheek
and my eyelid, forcing me to close one of my eyes while milking my son.

    "That's it, let it all out," I said, probably loud enough for the
guys outside to hear. A few more strokes back and forth, until I was
certain Callum was absolutely spent. Finally, he pulled the front of his
jockstrap back over his dick, and I got up off my knees until he and I
were face to face.

    Callum leaned forward, stuck his tongue out, and licked all of his
cum off my face, with the exception of the bit that was right around my
lips. I licked my lips and swallowed that bit myself, tasting my son's
jizz. Then, I bent down to pick his shirt off the floor.

    "Ew, I'm not putting that on," he said. "I'll just walk home
shirtless."

    I smiled, as Callum and I left the men's room and headed out of the
bar. With the huge crowd in the streets, it took us ten times longer to
get to my flat, but when we finally did, we took all our clothes off and
passed out on my bed for a nap. As we cuddled, I still had a taste of
Callum in my mouth, spooning him from behind with my semi in between his
cheeks.

All my stories: phoenix-stories.com

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