Date: Tue, 5 Feb 2019 22:59:31 -0500 From: RJ Subject: Closer than Ever Chapter 5 Closer than Ever by RJ This story is about the love been a father and his son and contains sexual activity between the two of them. If such themes offend you, do not read. If you have any questions or comments about this piece, want to know about any of my other works, or just want to reach out, please don't hesitate to email me. A list of my works, including links and descriptions, can be found here: https://bit.ly/2S5IYDI If you would like to be added to a mailing list to receive emails when my stories are updated, let me know which stories (if not all) you would like to receive emails for. Please also consider donating to Nifty if you can: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ~ Chapter 5 (Son's POV) ~ The only reason I wake up is because I feel a weight shifting beside me. Then, sensations start to come back one at a time, the nudity being the most glaring one. I never sleep nude, so I'm surprised that my body lies bare underneath the thin blanket. I blink a few times, feeling that mild disorientation I get whenever I wake up -- a symptom of smoking, but a small price to pay in exchange for no nightmares. I sigh slightly, turning my head towards the other side of the bed. There he is. My dad. Sleeping soundly. Fully naked and resting on his back. I lift my head up and rest on my elbows as I take a chance to soak in the sight of him now that there's morning light illuminating the living room. I feel my morning wood twitch a bit seeing him like this. The way he's positioned even, with one arm behind his head and one of his legs slightly cocked at the knee, makes him seem like he's showing off his body in the best way. My eyes of course find their way to what's between his legs, and I feel my mouth water a bit, remembering the taste of his cum. He was in my mouth last night. That happened, and this time, willingly. There's no coming back from that. I'm nervous about how he'll react to last night when he wakes up. So I try to do things that will keep him (hopefully) calm. I quietly slip off of the pull-out bed and put on my clothes from last night before heading into the kitchen to start brewing up some coffee for him. I make him some toast with peanut butter as well (not my favorite thing in the world, but he eats it almost every morning) along with a small side of berries. I wish he read the paper. That'd go good with the breakfast and the coffee. I bring the plate over to the living room and set it on the side-table, but the berries start rolling around. So I start fussing with the positioning. I get this nervous, insistent feeling that's telling me the berries have to look absofuckinglutely perfect or else. It's like my life depends on it. That, or my relationship with my father. I don't know which is more dire. He wakes up while I'm practically manhandling some blueberries. "Hey," I hear him say softly, and then I feel his knuckles nudge the side of my thigh. "Hey," I say back, biting my lip. Whatever. I grab the plate and sit on the edge of the bed, offering it to him. "Here." He yawns a bit and then glances at the plate, looking both confused and amused. "What's all this?" he asks, sitting up a bit and taking the plate. "Breakfast. Oh!" I quickly head up to the kitchen to pour him a cup of coffee and bring it back to him. "And I made you coffee," I say, insisting he take it. He sets the plate near his lap before taking the coffee mug, one eyebrow arched. "Full service," I say with a slight smile. I don't realize the irony of what I just said until he gives me a wide-eyed look, and instantly, my face is hot. "I mean... that's not what I mea-- Sorry," I say, laughing nervously and rubbing my forehead a bit. "It's... okay," he says, smiling just as nervously. I see him glance at me a bit, but we haven't made eye contact for more than one second at a time. He just takes a sip of his coffee as I sit next to him. "Thanks," he says after a long pause, setting the mug down on the side table. "Sure thing." It's clear that we don't know what to say, because there's a drawn out pause as my dad more so plays with the berries than eats them. Although, to be fair, the tension between us feels much less uncomfortable than the other night. That was unbearable, because I was the only one at fault. This time, we're in it together. "Sleep okay?" he asks after a moment before popping a blueberry in his mouth. "Yeah," I say, smiling a little. "No nightmares." "Good," he says with a nod. I will myself to look at him. "How about you?" "Slept great, actually," he says, picking up his toast and taking a decent bite out of it. "Maybe give up the drinking then?" "Just replacing one vice with another," he says with a smile as he chews and then swallows. "But I'll consider it." "Cool," I say, satisfied. Somehow knowing my dad could be a smoker rather than a drinker makes me feel better about it. I lick my lip slightly as I watch him take another bite. As he does, a bit of peanut butter stays on the corner of his lips. Instantly, I want to lean forward and lick it off, but I just gesture to my lip and say "You got a little..." "Oh." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before looking at me. "Good now?" "Yeah," I say. Very good. God, he's so handsome. And sexy. And wonderful. "So... What's the plan for today?" "Up to you, kiddo," he says. "I don't have plans 'til the evening." "Plans without me?" I tease, trying to get our banter going again. He just smiles. "Yeah. I need a break from you," he jokes. "No, I'm just getting dinner with Max." Max. Shit. I wasn't thinking about Max at all. I completely forgot Dad is in a committed relationship. He seems to be having the same thoughts too, because at the mention of his name, I see the guilt coming out. Which makes me feel two contrasting things. On one hand, I'm happy that he didn't (seem to) feel TOO guilty about what we did last night. On the other, I feel horrible because I'm compromising his relationship. "You can come if you want," Dad says after a pause. I've already interfered enough. "Maybe another time," I say, trying to be nice about it. Fuck. I can't get in between the two of them. Especially because they seem so enamored with each other. I wonder if they've said "I love you" to each other yet. "I'm sorry," I say after a moment. He looks up from his toast. "For what?" "Making you..." And then I trail off, just sighing. "Never mind." He sighs too, and even though I feel him looking directly at me, I can't bring myself to meet his eyes. "You didn't make me do anything, Jo," he says softly. What was that in his voice? I can't quite figure out what his tone meant, but either way, that's as far as we go in talking about last night. Another awkward morning. Seems we're destined to spend every morning like this -- skirting around the issue, half-looking at each other when we speak, avoiding physical contact. But eventually, while we sit on the couch and talk while Dad eats his breakfast, I notice his touches become more frequent. Specifically, he'll reach his hand over and rub my thigh gently with his fingers while he eats or sips with the other. Then, when we finally get up and clean around the living room, I notice him looking at me more. Not my face, but my body. No part of me is off-limits, it seems. I keep it subtle so that he doesn't know that I know he's looking at me -- because I want him to look. We feed off of each other's energy, so as soon as he starts acting less awkward, I follow suit until finally, around midday, we're nearly back to normal again. All smiles and jokes and proper conversations. The physical contact is just a smidge more intimate, though. What used to be simple arm-touches are made complex by an added thumb stroke or an extra squeeze, or even a hand sliding down the entire upper arm. Everything feels slightly more sensual. And because of it, I'm constantly horny. Even when we go out, my cock threatens to bust out of my jeans every time Dad grabs my side or strokes my hair. It's easier to keep myself under control since we're in public, but it makes me even more nervous. What if I lose control and basically pounce on him? The thought IS pretty hot, though... We spend most of the afternoon shopping, since I've been desperate for new clothes. Any time I go into the dressing room to try something on, my first thought is "Wanna come with?" It doesn't help that when I'm questioning a new pair of jeans or a shirt and step out to ask his opinion, his eyes are all over me. I bet if he looked hard enough, he could see that my bulge is getting a little more prominent. I need to jack off or something. Clearly I have too much pent-up sexual energy to handle just trying clothes on around him. By the time we get back, I decide that it's time for me to start packing up my things. Dad has plans with Max soon, and I have plenty of homework to catch up on before tomorrow. So I gather my clothes and toiletries before taking a break in the kitchen, chatting with Dad while he does the dishes until my ride gets here. Eventually my phone buzzes in my pocket, and when I check it, I get the message I was expecting. "Brett's here," I say. He looks at me as he finishes drying off a plate. "I thought your mom was coming to get you." "Nah, Brett wanted to hit up the skate shop again," I say, shrugging as I grab my bag off of the kitchen table and sling it over my shoulder. I head over to him to give him a quick hug. "So, talk soon?" "Yeah," he says, letting me hug him while he wipes his wet hands with a small towel. "Let me know when you care to see me again." I just roll my eyes, smiling and patting his stomach. "Might be a while," I say as I head towards the door. I unlock and open it. "Bye, Dad." But before I step out, he stops me. "Hey," he says, tossing the towel on the counter and coming over. "Not gonna kiss your father goodbye?" He grins slightly at my surprised look before tilting his face and tapping his cheek. Dumbass. I bite my lip a little before leaning up to give him a peck on the cheek. "There. Happy?" I say with a little smile. "Yeah." He turns back to me and hits me with a smile of his own. There's a moment where we're just staring at each other -- a brief moment that feels like it's been stretched out for several minutes. And then his eyes flicker to my lips. As if taunting me. Tempting me. And before I even think about it, I give in. I lean up closer to his mouth, going about 80% of the way until he leans into that last inch. When our lips connect, I'm flooded with warmth. I feel joyful, and calm, and antsy, and excited. It starts as a soft kiss, and I expect it to be short, but Dad, he leans in even more, his arm blocking my exit. Our kisses are repeated slowly, our lips smacking wetly against each other's, just teasing each other with little hints of tongue. I want to be closer to him. I want to feel his body. So I step into him a little bit. He takes that as enough of a signal. Without breaking the kiss, he pushes my bag off my shoulder and pins me against the door, causing it to shut. I grab onto him, pulling him into me as the kiss intensifies. I'm getting almost lightheaded. I'm not thinking straight, that's for sure. All I'm doing is thinking with my body. And my body says "More. Give me more." My lips, my hands, my cock, they all want the same thing: him. I feel my dad's hands slide down my sides and over my hips, and he squats down slightly to hook his hands under my thighs in order to pick me up and pin me hard against the door. I let out a grunt, eagerly wrapping my legs around his waist and kicking my shoes off as best I can. The way he's clutching onto my ass and grabbing at my head and kissing me, I feel like he's letting out what he's been holding in all day. And in that same way, I reciprocate. I tug on his hair a bit and keep my legs tight around him, showing him that this is what I want. He breaks the kiss and then pulls back to look at me. I see his eyes scanning my face. He looks deep in thought (I'm sure he's having second thoughts), but suddenly, he starts laughing. It's a distinct sort of laugh. The type of laugh that comes with stress. He leans his head down and buries his face in the crook of my neck, still holding me up. "Oh, Jo," he says, "what are we doing?" The confusion in his voice is obvious. He's still conflicted. His desires are at odds. And I know exactly what he's feeling, because I'm feeling the same thing. We both know better. And we both know the "right" thing to do would be to forget all of this and just go back to normal. But what if the "right" thing to do is not right for us? If we both want it, why can't we have it? If I'm being totally honest, half of that is my body talking, because I'm feeling selfish and horny and needy. But there's a point of truth in there. I stroke his hair lightly and then swallow. The ball's in my court, right? Time to make my move. "Put me down," I say softly. He does so without much hesitation. He pulls his head away from my neck and steps back, setting me down gently to my feet. What he doesn't expect is to see me get to my knees. "What are you--" he starts to say, but he stops himself as I look at him, level with his crotch, my chin so close to his groin. I could ask the question out loud. "Do you want me to stop, Dad?" But I don't. I just maintain eye contact. He knows I want this. He knows I want him. How he handles that is up to him right now. After such a long pause, I'm starting to think he's going to step away. But then he moves his hand to my head. He combs my hair with his fingers and then rests his palm on the back of my head before applying enough pressure to push my face into his crotch. And that's all the confirmation I need. I can't help but smile as I press my face into his crotch and playfully nip at his bulge and the hardness inside. He grunts a bit, pressing his fingers into my scalp more. I moan slightly as I slide my hands up his legs and then make quick work of his belt. I start tugging down both his jeans and his boxers, eager to let his cock free. It's almost a boost of confidence to see how hard he is. To FEEL how hard he is. I wrap my fingers around his member and my own cock throbs in my pants. I'm still so fascinated by it. I tease it with my fingers, getting him to moan and sigh softly before I start to lean forward and take just the head in my mouth. I close my eyes, loving how soft the skin is. I suck on it lightly, teasing him with my tongue, and I'm rewarded with the taste of his precum. I pop off of his cock as if I was sucking the juice off of a lollipop and then lick my lips, relishing the taste -- so strangely sweet. Delicious. Intimate. I want more. I open my mouth and take him a little deeper and start to bob back and forth. Dad keeps steady pressure on the back of my head, and I hear him letting out breathy moans as I work him over. Knowing I'm making him feel good makes me want to stay on my knees for hours. But he has other plans. He pulls me up to my feet quickly, and in a flash, he's picking me up again. This time, though, he carries me towards the kitchen and sets me on the edge of the counter before kissing me hard, totally switching up the tempo. I grab onto his shirt for support as he kisses me, feeling his tongue slide so smoothly against mine. I wonder if he can taste himself on my lips. Dad spreads my legs a little bit more, and then I feel his fingers undoing the button on my pants. I gasp slightly against his lips, my dick anticipating his touch. He's so close to my dick right now. In fact, his knuckles keep nudging my bulge as he undoes the button and my fly. Then, all of a sudden, I feel his hand slip inside to grope me. My whole body twitches a bit and I let out a gasping moan that makes me break the kiss. Dad just smirks with his eyes closed before looking down and watching his hand molest me. He pushes one hand against my chest to have me lean back as he reaches into my boxers to pull my dick out. I almost cum as soon as he has me in his grip, out in the open. His hand is so strong and sure. And warm. So fucking warm. I glance up at him, but he's focused on what's in his hand. I feel embarrassed suddenly, realizing this is the first time he's seen my dick. Does he like it? Is he proud of it? I can't tell what his expression reads as because it just looks like he's concentrating. Without warning, he steps back slightly, leans over, and takes me into his mouth. I grip the edge of the counter with literally all of my strength since the shock of the sensation almost makes me fall off. It's so... much. His warm, wet mouth and his silky tongue running all along my shaft and head... I never expected a blowjob would feel this good. And to think, my first one ever is from my father. Jesus Christ. He could just hold his mouth over my dick and lick me and I'd be fine, but he's going all out, bobbing and twisting his head and taking me deep. His lips are so soft but his facial hair adds another dimension entirely. God, I'm sweating underneath my clothes. I'm so overheated from this insurmountable pleasure. I can barely see because I keep squinting so much. And then my orgasm comes. Quickly (probably embarrassingly), but I can't focus on that because the pleasure is so intense that it's blinding. I warn him before it happens. "I'm gonna cum," I say in a whimper, and all Dad does is increase his speed and take me even deeper. He holds onto me to keep me from shifting too much as I cry out. I can't even hold back. All I see is white for a moment, as if I fucking died in the most blissful way before I realize my cock is pumping rope after rope into my dad's mouth. And he's swallowing it down. All of it. Once I blink a few times in order to see clearly, he pulls off, practically gasping for breath. "Fuck," he says with a laugh, swallowing again. He's looking at my cock, still hard and twitching and dripping a little bit of cum in his grip, before he looks up at me. I wonder how ridiculous I look. Probably beet red and sweaty. Hair's probably a mess. I'm panting like crazy, and my legs and fingers feel sore from tensing. I let myself rest my head against the wall, focusing on my breathing. "You okay?" Dad asks. I can still hear the smirk in his voice. "I feel like I died," I say, and he lets out an immediate and hearty laugh. "You act like you've never gotten a blowjob before." "I haven't," I say. "Really?" he asks, surprised. "Really. That was my first." He laughs slightly. "I'm... a little surprised." I try and sit up a bit, and he helps me into an upright position. "I told you I'm a virgin." Though, to be fair, the term "virgin" only seems to apply to full-on sex. According to Brett (and most of my peers, really), you can still be a virgin even if you've gotten your dick sucked a million times. "Actually, you told me that it's none of my business," he says, grinning and putting his hands on my thighs. "I assumed that meant you've done something." I blush and laugh. "Nope," I say. "Nothing." "Well," he says with a slight sigh through his nose, "is it weird that I'm honored?" "Yeah, but I don't mind," I say with a bright smile before I glance at his cock between his legs, biting my lip. He's still hard. "Do you want me to... do you?" "No, that's okay. We've made your ride wait long enough." "Shit!" I completely forgot about Brett. He's outside in his fucking car, waiting for me. How long have we been up here? I give Dad an apologetic look. Dad just chuckles. "It's okay. Go." As he makes himself decent, I quickly fix my pants and put my shoes back on. Dad meets me at the door with my backpack, handing it to me. "I'll, um... call you or something." "Yeah," he says, smiling slightly. "Bye, Jo." "Bye, Dad," I say, biting my lip. Before I can think twice, I lean up and give him a quick peck on the lips and then slip out of the door with a wide grin on my face. I rush down the stairs and bust through the exit, seeing Brett's car sitting idly near the sidewalk. I take a breath and head up to his car, apologizing as soon as I pull the door open and slip inside. "The fuck took you so long anyway?" he asks, turning his blaring music down. "I was about to come up and get you myself." Thank fucking God he didn't. "Sorry," I say again. "I didn't see your text." "OR my call?" he asks, but I can tell he's not mad. "Sorry," I say for the millionth time, but he just chuckles slightly, waiting until I'm buckled up before starting to drive off. "Thanks for getting me." "Well I bought another skateboard, so--" "ANOTHER one?" I say, looking at him and laughing. "I know, I know," he says, smirking as he looks around for other cars. "But she was too pretty to pass up, bro. She was practically begging me to buy her." "You have a problem," I say. "This is... what, number twelve?" "Thirteen," he says proudly. I roll my eyes. "Most people have one, you know. Or zero." "Most people don't appreciate the art of skating," he says. "Please explain this 'art' to me." "Fuck off," he says, punching my arm, and I slap his hand away, laughing. "Anyway, how's your dad?" My dad? You mean the man that just sucked me off to completion and is probably jerking off right now? "He's good," I say simply, feeling my face get warm when I think about him. "He found out about the weed." "Oh shit!" Brett says, looking at me with wide-eyed amusement for a brief moment. "Did he freak?" "No. My mom did," I say, and Brett bursts out laughing, "but he was cool about it. He, uh... he actually smoked with me last night." "Seriously?" Brett is getting a kick out of all this. "Damn, I'd love to smoke it up with him. I always knew he was chill." I laugh at the thought of Brett smoking with my dad recreationally. That'd be a sight. My two favorite guys. "Your mom gonna murder you tonight?" Brett asks. Then he looks at me with a smirk. "Is this the last time I'm gonna see you?" I just roll my eyes. "My dad calmed her down, I think. But make sure you kiss me goodbye, just in case." "Nice 'n sloppy," he says with a chuckle. "My dad thought you and I were in love, by the way," I blurt out. He snorts. "I mean, we are, aren't we?" he says, reaching over to slap my thigh with the back of his hand. "You wish." "Everyone always says we'd make a cute couple," he says. And it's true. Sometimes when we're out together, strangers will ask if we're dating considering the way we act in public (and private). "Why'd he think we're a thing?" he asks after a moment. "Did you finally tell him you're gay?" It's something he teases me about since I've gotten little to no action with girls, even though I could (and these are his words) "get it from any damn chick you want, bro." I don't know why I instantly tense up, but I do. "I'm not gay," I say quickly, maybe sounding a mix of hostile, anxious, and defensive. Whatever it is, Brett takes notice of it and glances at me, dropping his joking tone. "You okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine," I say, feeling embarrassed. Of course I know why I tense up. Because any conversation about anything related to my dad makes me nervous, anxious, horny, excited... He chews on his lip a bit as if considering speaking up again. Then: "I'm just teasing, you know." He takes a moment before saying "You know I wouldn't care, right?" I sigh. "I know, Brett." And I do know that. I know that if I was the gayest of them all, he'd still be my best friend. But it's not just the fact that I'm at least somewhat gay. It's the fact that I'm in love with my father. I've always been in love with him, I think. Or at least for a while. I just didn't realize it until now. My feelings for him don't necessarily feel that much different than they did originally. Even when I first became sexually interested in him. The addition of physical attraction didn't intensify my love for him, but merely served as an added feature. We were already close. But now, with this? It's like we're closer than ever. I wonder how he really feels. Does he feel the same way? It seems almost obvious by how we acted this weekend. One thing's for sure: something unlocked between us. The truth, maybe? Admittedly it's one hard truth to face, but even with the shame of the things we've done (that I've mostly initiated), he continued it. He allowed it. And now, I only want more. I don't see Dad again until the next weekend, and surprisingly, Max is the one that makes plans. He wants to do something "special" for Dad's birthday, but I warn against it -- Dad's not the type of person to enjoy his birthday turning into a big deal. Nor does he like gifts. I suggest instead a night in. Something low-key, especially after a long shift at the hospital. Max is extremely reluctant-sounding in his messages, but eventually he agrees. And then he invites me over, too. I decline at first for two reasons. One: I figure Dad might appreciate alone time with his boyfriend. And two: I don't want to see them together. But he insists, saying "He'd love the most important man in his life to be there." Referencing me. Is that how Dad talks about me? I can't help but smile at the message and find myself agreeing to come over. I have Max meet me at Dad's apartment when it's near time for him to come home, and we setup. Setting up really just involves breaking out the comfiest blankets and pillows, an array of DVDs, a few pizzas, soda and beer, and a platter of his favorite toffee treats instead of a cake (in which I had to argue with Max a bit). Honestly, he's a sweet guy, but he keeps fighting me on all my decisions and I keep having to say "Trust me. I know what he wants." When Dad arrives, we pretend to hide before bursting out and saying "Happy birthday!" loudly. He flinches before laughing heartily, going from looking exceptionally tired to looking excitedly pleased. He clutches his chest a bit. "Jesus Christ." "Heart attack?" I tease. I want to be the first one to come into physical contact with him, so I rush over to hug him. "Fuck off, kid," he says, grinning and setting his bag down before embracing me tightly. I bury my face into his chest with a hum, feeling his arms wrap tightly around me. Then he notices the pizzas and drinks and movies on the coffee table. "What's all this?" "We just wanted to do a little something," Max says with a smile as my dad and I separate. I give him a slight side-eye but hold my tongue. "You guys," Dad says with an evidently pleased smile. "This is perfect. Exactly what I need." I resist the urge to look at Max and scream "I told you so!" He heads over to Max and kisses him, and that also keeps my mouth shut. Seeing them kiss almost enrages me. Maybe it's just jealousy. "To make it even more perfect..." I start to say, hopping into the living room area. I grab one of the toffees off of the plate and bring it over to my dad. His eyes go wide with excitement. "You got these from Laney's?" he asks, laughing. These are his favorite treats in the world. They're bite-sized chocolates with toffee and pretzels inside. Extremely simple, but there's some secret ingredient or something the bakery uses that makes them so good. And irreproducible, no matter how much I try. "Of course I did," I say with a grin. "Who do you think I am?" Then I offer it to him. But instead of handing it to him, I want him to eat it off of my fingers, so I bring the candy directly to his lips. He gives me a slightly surprised look before parting his lips, his eyes directly on me. But my sights are focused on his mouth. I watch as his tongue slides forward to get under the chocolate, sliding against my index finger in the process. His teeth latch onto the candy and on the pull-back, his lips just barely graze against my fingers. I swear I'm instantly hard. He just chews, smiling slightly as he looks me up and down (discreetly enough for Max not to notice). "Delicious," he says, chewing slowly and licking his lips. God, I wanna be that chocolate... "How was work?" Max asks, breaking our moment. "Work was good," he says, wiping his bottom lip with his thumb. He tells us about two emergency surgeries he did today, calling it a "fulfilling day" due to the lives he's saved. And he says that he's thankful to come home to something relaxing (again, I hold my tongue) after such a long day. "Especially since everyone at the hospital threw me a little party at lunch already." "Well you can't blame them for loving you," I say. "Max, can you grab some plates and cups please?" "Sure," he says, heading into the kitchen while I grab Dad's hand and bring him to the couch. "Get comfy, big guy," I say, having him sit in the middle. He smirks as I lean down to take his shoes off, looking up at him. "What are you doing?" he says softly, but he sounds amused. "I'm just taking your shoes off," I say, biting my lip before setting them under the table. I let my hands roam on his legs a little more, and he keeps his eyes on me at all times. I slide them across his knees and up his thighs before moving onto the couch next to him, sitting close and cozying up to him. I even grab one of his arms and lift it so that I can rest on him with his arm around me. "Happy birthday, Dad." "Thanks, buddy," he says, and he kisses the top of my head, giving me a little squeeze just as Max comes back with the plates and cups. "I'm glad you're here," he murmurs, but only to me. It's nice just sitting on the couch and eating and drinking and watching a couple of movies with Dad and Max. Most of the time we're chatting away incessantly, but after we work through the pizzas, we drape a cozy blanket over the three of us and cuddle comfortably. I'm sure Dad's loving it -- having his two guys on either side of him. But I'm loving it just as much. With the blanket over our laps, his fingers gently stroking my inner thigh go unnoticed by his boyfriend. It's a completely relaxed evening overall, and I'm sad to see it end after the credits for Rushmore roll. Dad shifts and grunts and says "It's late", which means the party's over. I sigh, separating from him as Max stands up and stretches. Both he and my dad start grabbing garbage off of the coffee table, but I stop them. "I got it," I say, shooing them away. "You sure?" Dad asks. "Yeah. It's your birthday. No cleaning." He smiles slightly before Max, who takes hold of his hand, grabs his attention and then whispers something in his ear. Dad bites his lip before glancing at me and saying "So you're good here?" "Yeah," I say, trying not to look at them being all intimate. I know what's going to happen as soon as they get back to his bedroom, so I distract myself by stacking the pizza boxes. "Okay," I hear him say. They start to move away as I'm piling napkins and paper plates, and I vaguely hear him say "I'll meet you in there" before, just moments later, a familiar hand reaches around and grabs at my jaw. I gasp slightly as he turns me around and smoothly swoops me into a deep lip-lock. My body, eager to be near him, automatically presses into his. He even wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. It happens so fast and so suddenly that I'm a little dazed, but I enjoy the sensations of his lips against mine and his hot breath on my face and his hands sliding over my back and my ass. He pulls back, leaving me absolutely breathless and red in the face. I laugh slightly, glancing towards the hallway, but Max is nowhere to be seen. "I've been waiting to do that all night," Dad says after a moment. I will myself to look up at him and I smile slightly. "Me too," I say. He smiles gently before moving loose strands of hair out of my face and then kissing my forehead softly. "G'night, Jo," he says, starting to pull away. I let him go, biting my lip. "'Night, Dad. Happy birthday." He hits me with a smile before turning and heading down the hallway towards his bedroom. I feel almost energized after that kiss, and I'm smiling like an idiot as I take care of the mess in the living room and handle any dishes that need cleaning. Then I take a quick shower and brush my teeth. But as I'm heading out of the bathroom, I can hear them in his room. I hear little laughs, and grunts, and moans, all muffled by the door. And immediately, my heart sinks. It shouldn't be this hard, but it is. I hate that they're having sex. Birthday sex, no less. That could be me in there, giving him the birthday of his life. But all I get is a kiss. It bums me out as I head into the living room, and I try my best to block out those thoughts, but I can't stop picturing them. And it doesn't even make me horny this time. Now I'm just upset. Too upset to even smoke. I just set up the pull-out bed, climb in, bury myself under the blankets, and attempt to convince myself that I don't feel so lonely in this moment. "Jo? You awake?" I am, actually. I heard someone shuffling around in the kitchen, but I figured it was just one of them grabbing water or a midnight snack or something. "Yeah," I say. I sense Dad coming into the living area and then pausing by the bed. "Where are you?" he says with a slight chuckle. "Here," I say, pulling the blanket off of my face to reveal my location. Even in the very dim lighting I can see him smile. He sits on the edge of the bed near my face, putting his hand on my shoulder and stroking it with his thumb. I think he's just wearing boxers. He's definitely shirtless at least. "Max mentioned you planned almost everything tonight." Ugh. Max. Hearing him say his name makes me queasy. "Can we not talk about Max?" I say, and I don't realize I said that out loud until I notice his expression. Now I'm embarrassed. I should have just accepted his inevitable "Thank you for a nice birthday". "We don't have to talk about Max," he says, confused. Then: "Are you okay?" "Yeah. Sorry," I say, rubbing my eyes. "I'm just tired. I didn't smoke." I wonder if he'd also want to smoke, but he just says "Okay," his hand still on my shoulder. I bet he knows exactly what's going on with me. I could sense it in the way he said "Okay". He's intuitive enough to understand that. I just hope he doesn't pester me about it. Thankfully, he doesn't. Instead, he pushes me and says "Make some room" before sliding under the covers with me, lying on his side. I cuddle up to him immediately, and after he adjusts the blanket over him, he wraps an arm over me, resting his hand on my hip. I close my eyes as I rest against his bare chest. I was right. Just boxers. Good. The more skin contact I can get, the better. Then, after maybe two minutes of silence, he speaks up. "You know I love you, right?" "Yeah." "More than anyone." I swallow. What's he saying? I tilt my face up towards his, and he shifts his face to mine as well. Our lips brush against each other, and I just barely detect a hitch in his breathing before I lean forward slightly. There are a few moments of us just breathing against each other before I push up against him a hair more and then find his lips with mine, kissing him in the semi-darkness. There we go. This is what I need. Suddenly I forget about Max, and that strange loneliness I was feeling. Now it's just us. I lift my hand up to cup his face as we kiss repeatedly, making out slowly and switching between intimate pecks and long, drawn out kisses. I lift my leg over his hip to get even closer, and he responds by sliding his hand from my hip to my side, getting under my shirt so he can touch my skin underneath. As soon as his hands make contact with my skin, I start to get hard. I can't help it. His touch does something to me every time. And he notices. He chuckles softly against my lips before saying "What's going on here?" as he moves his hand between us to cup my bulge. I moan slightly, biting my lip as he feels me up. "Sorry," I say, though I'm not sure why I'm apologizing. He just has a little smile on his lips as he holds his palm against my crotch and nudges the tip of my cock with his thumb over and over. The teasing makes my legs tense up until he does more. He slides his arm back around me, but as he does, he leans into me more, continuing to kiss me while shifting so he's on top. I let out an involuntary moan as I feel him grind slightly against my crotch. I'm achingly hard now. I wonder if I'll ever not be this stiff around him. He slides one hand up to grab my chin -- gently, but firmly. He plants a few deep kisses on my lips before moving my face to the side so that my neck is exposed. When I feel his lips on my sensitive neck, my mouth opens. I try to moan but it gets caught in my throat, and I just breathe in sharply instead. He sucks on my neck slowly, kissing various spots before finally letting go of my chin. He moves his hands to the hem of my shirt and slides it up my body, lifting me for a moment so that he can get it off of my back, head, and arms. I run my fingers through my hair, lying back shirtless as he plants a kiss right in the middle of my chest. It's a soft, tender kiss -- one that makes me close my eyes and lick my lips. But then he moves to one of my nipples. I feel his tongue slide against it before his lips clamp down and I immediately let out a loud moan that he stifles with his hand over my mouth. "Quiet, Jo," he says, looking at me before removing his palm from my mouth. "Sorry," I whisper. "I'm sensitive." He laughs softly. "I can see that." He brushes my wet nipple with his thumb, and I squirm slightly but otherwise keep it down. Can't wake Max up. I watch him as he kisses down my body slowly, taking his sweet time. As he gets closer and closer to my crotch, he gets his fingers in the waistband of my pajama pants and steadily pulls them down my legs. I feel my cock swing out when it's no longer held down by my underwear, and I bite my lip hard feeling Dad's lips get closer and closer to my groin. When my cock nudges his chin, though, he doesn't go for it right away. He sits up on his heels to help strip me completely, leaving me lying naked while he looms over me. But he's touching himself. His hand is in his boxers, and he's lightly stroking his cock while his eyes roam my body as he kneels between my legs. I don't know what to do. Should I jerk off too? Or should I stay still and let him do what he wants with me? Nervously, I decide on the latter, even though my cock is begging for attention. I don't have to wait long, though. Soon, Dad slips out of his boxers, getting naked as well. I'm treated to the sight of his hard-on for just a moment before he leans over and presses his lips right against my balls. I whimper softly as my cock twitches. That smooth tongue of his glides slowly against each of my nuts before he takes them into his mouth, one at a time. I'm trying hard to relax and not curl my toes so much, but I can't help it. He makes me feel too good. And because of it, my legs will be fucking sore in the morning. He gives my balls one more lick before kissing my inner thigh, even going so far as to bite on it gently. He's driving me crazy. My hand goes right to his head and I tug on his hair a bit. Well, not a bit. I tug hard. Hard enough for him to wince. "Sorry, sorry!" I say, my face as warm as the rest of my body. He just laughs. "It's okay." He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles gently before looking up at me. We make eye contact for a few seconds of quiet before I sit up. He shifts onto his hands and knees and lets me take his face into my hands as I kiss him. I take his bottom lip between my teeth and tug on it gently, and he says "Mmm" before chuckling softly. I laugh against his lips before moving my hand over his shoulders and then reaching down to grab that hard cock dangling between his legs. He makes a pleased noise, kissing my lips, my cheek, and then my neck as I slowly jerk him off. The weight of him is incredible. I wonder if he notices how heavy his cock is all the time. I lick my lips and have him sit on his heels again. It's my turn to take my time with his body. He sits up straight as I move to my knees, not once taking my hand off of his cock. I peck his lips with a smile before moving to his chest. Turns out his nipples aren't as sensitive as mine, but when I nibble on one of them lightly, he grunts and moves his hand to the back of my head, grabbing my hair a bit. I even feel his cock pulsing in my grip. I smirk slightly to myself before giving that nipple a small lick and then kiss my way down his body. I rub my face against his body hair, finding it both comforting and tickling, until I get to his happy trail. I sit in front of him, crossing my legs as I run my fingers through his pubes. How are they this soft? They're just as nice as the hair on his head. I could play with them for hours. But I have my sights on his cock, now. I lift it up with my palm, hunch forward, and guide him into my mouth. Hearing him moan is music to my ears. Feeling his hand on my head only encourages me further. I take it slow and try to get him into my throat, and I surprise myself by how long I can hold it. I even bob back and forth a few times before, on the fifth bob, I gag and cough slightly. I compose myself quickly though and get right back to work. I think back to the last time we were on this pull-out bed. When I sucked him to completion. I jerked off all week reminiscing about the feeling of him cumming in my mouth, but I need a reminder. I need another taste. But then he pulls me off of his cock, immediately diving in for a deep, tongue-filled kiss. We roll around on the bed until I end up on top of him, kissing slowly as I grind my cock against his. His hands slide down my back and then run over my ass, and I let out a happy moan when he gives each cheek a nice squeeze. It only makes my hips dig into him a little deeper and more insistently. He plays around with my ass for a while, squeezing and groping it, and only now am I realizing that I could have used it to my advantage. I have kind of a big ass. If I had known he'd be so into it, I could have used it to seduce him way earlier. I wonder if he's checked me out before without me knowing. Even that thought alone gets me hot. And then he takes it up a notch. His fingers find their way closer and closer to my hole, and before I know it, he's petting my most intimate place. I let out a breathy moan against his lips, fucking the kiss up, but he doesn't seem to mind. He just lets me moan softly as he rubs his middle finger in slow circles, making my cock leak against him. Yet another notch. He brings those fingers to his mouth to lick them and get them wet before bringing them right back to my ass. Now his moist fingers are touching me, and it feels ten times better. I put my face in the crook of his neck as he prods my hole, practically giving me a massage. I almost want him to push his finger inside of me. I've never done that before, not even while masturbating. I've never really been curious enough. But now, my curiosity has maximized. I'd let him finger me to high heaven. He grabs my ass again but pulls me up his body. So I slide forward. And I keep sliding up until I realize he must want to suck me off. I shift onto his chest and push my cock forward. He takes a hold of it and kisses the underside before dragging his tongue up to the head. As he looks up at me, he takes the tip into his mouth -- only the tip. I moan softly as he sucks like he's nursing on it. His tongue is doing most of the work, sending electricity throughout my body. And then he makes it worse. He pulls off my cock and moves me higher up his body so that he can kiss my balls. Then higher so he can lick my taint. Then even higher so he can get to what he was really after this whole time: my hole. I let out such a loud, surprised moan that he stops altogether, looking up at me from between my thighs. "I'm not gonna do this if you can't be quiet," he says. "Sorry," I say, trying to get him to continue. "You gonna be quiet?" "Yes," I say in a soft, insistent voice. Please go back. Please. And he does after a moment. I practically sit on his face while he drags his tongue over my hole. Wow. My eyes practically roll back in my skull from how good that feels. I've heard about rimjobs before -- even seen them in porn. But I had no idea it could feel this good. I feel this electric fire coursing through me with every swipe of his tongue. My body is caught between wanting to pull away and wanting to press down against his face. It's intense. Almost like a battle. I get goosebumps all over, and I can't resist reaching down to stroke myself. And fast. I'm panting, I realize, but it keeps me from moaning. Fuck yes, Dad. Eat me out. All that can be heard are the wet sounds of his mouth and tongue against my ass, and my breathlessness. And now, my eager stroking. I notice I start to grind a bit on his tongue, and he responds by sliding his hands up my thighs, keeping me planted on his face. When I feel his tongue poke at my hole and then wiggle its way inside, I lose it. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fucking cum everywhere. I gasp, tugging on his hair with my free hand as I feel my orgasm quickly building throughout my body and then finally centering on my cock. And then, sweet release. Not wanting to cum all over his couch, I have to think incredibly fast -- I end up clenching my teeth hard as I slide down off of his face just as my cock starts to spurt. I don't really know what I'm aiming for -- his chest, I think. But I keep my eyes shut tight, my hips twitching with every pulse until I'm finally dry. It takes a moment to catch my breath, and then I slowly open my eyes to look down at my dad. Turns out I ended up emptying my nuts all over his face and neck. One of his eyes is closed, a rope of cum splattered right across it. "Shit," I say. "Sorry! I didn't--" "It's okay," he says with a light laugh, wiping my load off his eyelid with his fingers. He blinks a few times before looking up at me. "How bad's the damage?" I smile slightly. "Not horrible," I say, trying not to laugh at the (admittedly sexy) sight of him painted with my cum. "Bastard," he mutters before he sits up, causing me to slide down into his lap. He keeps one hand on my lower back as he leans over to grab my shirt -- which is what he uses to wipe his face with. "Hey!" I say. "That's mine!" "Your point?" he says, trying to make sure he got it all. "You're a dick," I tease before taking the shirt from him and finishing the job. He missed some on his forehead, so I make sure to wipe it all off before tossing it to the floor. "There." "Thank you," he says with a smile. "You're welcome," I say, putting a hand on his chest. We just stare at each other for a moment before he leans in again and kisses me. Softly, at first. Then his arm snakes around me more, and he increases the intensity of the kiss by adding more tongue. Tighter grips. Slight, deep moans. He wraps both arms around me and expertly lays me down onto my back, kissing me tenderly. I can still feel his hardness nudging against my own cock, and I'm filled with the desire to make him cum. But before I can decide how to go about it, he breaks the kiss and turns me onto my stomach. I pant slightly as he mounts me, kissing my neck and my shoulder blades. I gulp a bit. Is this happening? Are we about to fuck? I'm so nervous. I feel my heart rate increase ten-fold when his cock nudges between my cheeks. At first, he just grinds against me, biting down gently on my neck. Then, he reaches in between us. I feel his finger teasing my hole again and I mewl, biting my lip as I smile. Fuck, that feels nice. I arch my back a bit, almost wanting him to stick it in so I can feel what it's like. But then, I feel him grabbing himself as the tip of his cock searches for my hole. When he finds it, I feel him pushing forward. "Wait," I say quietly, surprised. He's met with resistance, of course, since I've never been penetrated before. I clench my teeth as he keeps trying, doubtful it'll work without lube or something, and right before I speak up, I feel the head of his cock pushing into me. I gasp out and completely tense my body. Holy fuck, that hurts. Holy fucking shit. None of this is right. I'm not wet enough, or prepared enough, or... I don't know. Emotionally ready? Is that what it is? Am I not ready for this? He pushes forward more and I cry out a bit at the sudden intrusion. "Ow!" I try to be strong, but I can't do this. It hurts too much. "Dad--" "Sorry, sorry," he says immediately, pausing. "I got too excited." "Take it out," I demand. He does so without complaint, pulling himself from my hole. I rest on the pull-out bed, panting slightly, my hole already feeling sore from half a minute of penetration. Dad slides off of me and rests on his side next to me. "I'm sorry," he says. "It's okay." "I don't want to hurt you." "I know," I say. He has that overly-apologetic tone in his voice. "I'm fine, Dad," I tell him, looking at him. "I promise. I'm just not... ready. Not for that. Not yet." He sighs through his nose, looking upset. "I almost ruined it." I feel a rush of affection for him, seeing how regretful he looks. "You didn't, you big sap," I say, smiling and leaning over to kiss him. I'm not sure what he means by "ruined it", but I figure kissing him and consoling him will make him feel better. He half-kisses back, more so just lying there and using his lips. I sigh slightly. "Stop beating yourself up. It's not a big deal." "It IS a big deal," he says. "I almost couldn't control myself for a moment." He bites his lip slightly as he reaches up and strokes the side of my face, letting out another heavy sigh through his nose. "You make me crazy, kid. The things I wanna do to you..." And then he trails off. What things? Tell me those things, Dad. Just the mere insinuation is giving me chills. But then he blinks as if regaining focus and says "Sometimes I forget that this is real." "What do you mean?" "That this is happening. That you haven't, y'know, done this stuff before. And it's with me. Sometimes I forget." I bite my lip a bit. I suddenly get images of him jerking off, fantasizing about me. I saw him with Max. He didn't hold back. I wonder if he's pictured me in that same position. "Never mind," he says. "I'm not making sense." "It's okay," I say with a slight laugh. He smiles again. "I just want your first time to be special." "If it's with you, it'll be pretty special," I say, and I see him grin a little wider before he looks up at the ceiling. "Making me crazy," he mutters to himself, but of course I catch it. Then he sighs before reaching over and patting my ass. "Alright," he says in a way that signals a goodbye. But I stop him when he sits up. "Where do you think you're going?" He arches his eyebrows. "To bed?" "No you're not," I say, pushing him back down. "Jo--" he starts to say, but then I grab hold of his cock, and he shuts up immediately, tensing. He lets out a low moan as he relaxes while I stroke him back to hardness, and he says my name again but in a much sexier way. I smile slightly. "Let me finish you off," I tell him. He sighs before nodding. "Okay." I lick my lips, eagerly getting between his legs to continue where I left off. I don't waste a second. I just want him in my mouth. I part my lips enough to wrap them around the tip of his cock and then slowly start bobbing up and down. He moans softly, putting his hands behind his head and just relaxing while I work him over. I look up at him as he watches me sink onto his cock over and over. What's he thinking about, I wonder? Or is he so entranced that he's not thinking about anything else but my mouth? I put on a good show for him as best I can, taking my time and relishing every inch of his manhood. My mouth salivates at the taste of his precum, making the blowjob wetter. I suckle on the tip, teasing the slit with my tongue and dipping it in and out. That's my way of saying "Cum for me, Dad." I want his load so badly that my cock is aching again. Soon enough, I'm rewarded. Dad closes his eyes and leans his head back a bit, and I know right then that he's getting close. I pick up the pace a bit, my sucking getting a little loud, but I don't care. Give me what I want. I wrap my fingers around the base of his cock and stroke him along with my lips until he finally starts to fill my mouth. I moan at finally tasting him again -- a flavor I can only describe as "him." I swallow it down eagerly, holding my head in place as I jerk him off into my mouth and gulp down whatever I'm given. Even after he's finished, he lets me keep sucking him. I want him dry, so I keep slowly bobbing up and down, pulling off every so often to lap at the head and squeeze out any drops of cum he can give me. I don't stop until he's soft again, and I let his cock fall from my lips and rest heavily between his legs. I look up at him shyly, but he's just smiling slightly, beckoning me up with his finger. I grin, crawling over him and letting myself be roped into yet another deep but quick kiss. Then we cuddle. As I rest my body on top of his and my face on his chest, he wraps an arm around me, gently running his nails over my back, both of us surely feeling satisfied. "We should stop, shouldn't we?" he says after a long stretch of silence. "Yeah." "Do you want to stop?" he asks. Does he want me to be honest, or to give him an out? But I give him my answer. Straight and simple. "No." I'm surprised the sounds of pots and pans didn't wake me up, because once I'm awake, I realize how loud those noises are. But it was the smell of breakfast cooking that lured me awake. Dad must be making something good. French toast, maybe. I sit up and stretch slightly, running my fingers through my hair and remembering last night. The thought actually makes me blush now that I'm not in horny-teenager mode. We really got intimate last night, I feel like. Not just physically, but maybe emotionally? There was something between us that I couldn't quite understand or really recognize until now. But I felt it. The love was evident, made obvious by the slower, more sensual moments, like him taking his time with my nipples, or me blowing him 'til he went soft. I wish we could have just slept together too. Waking up next to him would have been icing on the cake, but at least he gave me a shirt of his to wear before he went off to bed. I smile at the shirt I'm wearing. One of his old band t-shirts that's oversized on me. Even smells like him. I pull myself out of bed and make my way into the kitchen. I look around but only see my dad at the stove, humming to himself as he's flipping a few slices of French toast over on a skillet. He put on some pants, but he's still shirtless. I head over and wrap my arms around him, hugging him from behind. Might as well get what I need before Max waltzes in. "Morning," I say. "Mmm," he says, chuckling a bit. "Good morning." Then he turns around in my arms, sucks something off of his fingers, and then holds my chin as he leans down to kiss me. I'm surprised he's being so bold, but I let it happen. At least for a little bit. A nice, deep morning kiss. His lips taste like vanilla. I break the kiss, smiling but feeling nervous. "What about your boyfriend?" I tease. "Oh, I sent him home," he says, turning back around to take care of breakfast. I blink in surprise, my nervousness evaporating. "Really?" "Yeah." He pauses for a moment, staring at the stove but in thought. Then he sighs, glancing at me before resuming prodding the toast with the spatula. "I think I have to break up with him." "What?!" I say. Now THAT'S surprising. "Why? What happened?" "You happened," he says, and even though he doesn't say it in an accusatory way, it hurts to hear. "I can't in good conscience keep cheating on him." I feel my body slumping a bit. Fuck. Dad's always been a man of integrity, and I'm compromising that. I've BEEN compromising that. And now that he's thinking about ending things with Max, I feel terribly guilty. And selfish. They have such a good thing going, it seems like. Max makes him so happy. Dad notices my internal struggle, though, because he says "Don't look so guilty." "Well, I feel like shit," I say, frowning. "Don't feel bad, either," he says. "It's not your fault." "I mean... It kind of is, isn't it?" I question. "It's not, Jo. I'm the one who's responsible," he says, taking complete ownership. In a way, I'm sure it'd feel nice to let him. "I've made those choices too. And now I have to make the choice between you and him." I wince slightly. That is, until he says "Don't stress about it. It's an easy choice." I don't know what it is. Is it how he said it so easily, so casually? Is it the implications of what he just said? Is it that soft little smile he gives me? I know last night he told me he loves me more than anyone, but breaking up with his boyfriend because of me? FOR me? That's a whole different story. And damn if that doesn't make me smile like a fucking goon.