Date: Mon, 12 Aug 2013 08:48:09 -0700 (PDT)
From: BH
Subject: Dad and Me at the Lake House - 7

Thank you to each of the Nifty readers who wrote in to offer comments about
this developing series. I appreciate the feedback and inspiration.

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-----

The last time I had seen Uncle Steve, he was cutting a rotten limb out of a
tree with a chainsaw. He didn't wave back to me or even nod, but I knew
that he saw me wave. He caught my gaze and held it. He had his hands full,
so I didn't want to take it personally. A friend of his was holding the
ladder while Steve revved the saw and then tore through the wood. My
parents and me had visited Aunt Genny's family shortly after Halloween and
the front of their house and yard was still decorated with zombies
styrofoam tombstones, cottony clumps of spider webbing dangling from the
front porch. Uncle Steve had always been a stickler for taking down holiday
decorations immediately, and so it seemed strange that they were still
up. Dad had made a comment as we pulled out of their driveway, noting that
Steve was having a hard time lately. Something about overtime I didn't
fully understand.

When Dad told me Uncle Steve was dropping in on us, my heart sank--in part
because I wanted to see how far Dad would take it. His dick in my
mouth. His thumb massaging my asshole open. I had never been with a man, or
even a boy my age. I had barely kissed girls, and so the entire world of
sex that had felt newly open seemed like it was being slammed shut. And
locked. I worried that if Dad and I stopped and thought about what we'd
been doing, we might never start again. And where would that leave me, but
with a burgeoning crush on my father and nowhere to put my anxious sexual
energy.

Dad asked me to take my things out of the master bedroom. But where would
we sleep once Uncle Steve took the place back over? I imagined Dad and me
both on the couch, holding each other as we slept. Waking to his hard dick
in the early morning, before Steve would be up. I liked the idea of my dad
touching me in secret, Steve in the other room oblivious to our incestuous
discovery.

Then again, I'd seen the pictures. I'd been told about Uncle Steve's own
adventures with Dad, and I'd seen the proof. Maybe the two of them would
sleep in the master bedroom together, and I'd be left out on the couch
alone. The thought drove me crazy, losing dad to Steve--who I had never
felt close to. He was the kind of uncle that keeps his distance, cold and
sometimes cruel. Silent breakfasts, ignored compliments. Sometimes when I'd
call Aunt Genny and Steve would pick up, he'd hand her the phone without
saying hello back. I didn't want that man coming between my dad and me, or
anywhere near us. I was afraid he'd ruin everything.

The big bedroom cleared for Steve, the secret tin of pot put back into the
locked kids' room, and the counter frantically tidied up, Dad asked me if I
was okay. I said I was, but he didn't believe me.

"You're not going to tell Uncle Steve about me, are you?" I asked and he
shook his head no.

"Not if you don't want me to," he said. He sounded calm, like he could
handle anything. My heart was still in my throat, where I wanted Dad's dick
to be. I hugged him close, and felt him squeeze me tight like he wouldn't
let anything bad happen. "I might tell him that we broke into the kids'
room," Dad said. "Depending."

"Will he be mad?"

"I'm not sure," Dad said. "I mean, he locked it for a reason. But I'm not
sure if it was to keep a secret from me, or from you."


"Well, if you do, don't tell him I saw the pictures, okay?" I sat on the
couch, pulling my phone out.

"I can't promise that," Dad said. "I don't intend to tell him, but I'm not
a great liar. If he asks me outright, I might have to."

"I just don't want him to be any weirder with me," I tell him, thinking of
how he looked at me that last time, his loveless eyes in those safety
goggles before he cut down the limb.

"He's weird with you?" Dad asked, but it didn't seem sincere. Dad must have
noticed.

"Duh," I said. "He barely talks to me or looks at me. For years."

"Well, he asks about you all the time. I think he might have a crush on
you," Dad said, sitting next to me. He said it like it might be a joke, or
like he was gauging my reaction. I rolled my eyes. It wasn't funny. Steve
was borderline mean to me. Is that how someone acts when they have a crush?

"He asks about me? Like how?"

Dad had a sexy gleam in his eye, and for once I didn't like it.

"I don't know. He asks in passing. 'How's Kyle?' or 'Kyle dating yet?' or
'How big is Kyle's dick?'" Dad laughed, but I didn't.

"Stop it!" I said, and he seemed surprised that I was really upset. "I just
don't want him here."

"Oh, come on," Dad said, like he was sorry for joking around. "This is his
lake house. We're his guests."

"That's what scares me," I said. I didn't realize until I said it that I
was scared of him. Of what might happen if he found out that I was gay. Or
worse! That Dad and I were messing around. What if he expected me to suck
him too? What if he wouldn't take no for an answer? I didn't like Steve,
let alone love him like I did Dad. But I also wouldn't know how to say no.

I started to picture scenes where Uncle Steve came on to me when Dad wasn't
in the room, and I would ignore his passes but Steve would just start
touching me. Or I would tell him I wasn't interested, and suddenly he'd be
even meaner to me. Actively cruel instead of simply ignoring me when I
talk.

"I was just playing around," Dad said. "You know I'm not going to let
anything bad happen to you. Your secret is safe. You are safe. Steve might
be awkward, but he's a good guy. And he does love you, in his own way. He's
just a loner. A quiet guy. He grew up in a home where people didn't talk to
one another. It's not you, son."

"He talks to you. He talked to mom," I said, not convinced.

"We're adults!" Dad said. "Plus, it took work to get there. Years of
pulling him out of his shell. It was work." Dad stood up and checked the
time. "You'll see. Maybe this is the trip where he'll open up in front of
you too. You never get to see him away from the kids and Genny. Maybe he'll
come around. And if not, oh well. We'll stay until we want to leave."

"Can we have a code word?" I ask him. "You know, in case I want to leave
but don't want him to know?"

"Sure, if you want," Dad looked frustrated that Steve hadn't arrived
yet. Or maybe he was still upset that Steve was coming at all. I wasn't
sure. "What's the code word? You pick."

I thought about it, but everything seemed stupid or obvious. The look on
Dad's face was too serious. I wanted us to be happy again.

"How about I just tell you I want your dick back in my mouth?" I said,
making him laugh. I felt a little better. "Or, how about if I talk about
school?"

"That works," he said. "Either one." Dad gave his crotch a squeeze, and
then looked at me like he wished Steve wasn't coming. I felt better knowing
that Dad and I would be okay, that he wasn't going to regret what we'd done
and would very likely do it again. "And if I want to leave, I guess my code
can be asking you about school?"

"If you want to leave, I don't think we need a code. We just leave, right?"
I said. "I mean, I want to leave now."

"Aw, son. Is that true?" Dad looked sad for a second, and then sighed. "I
think we could have a pretty good time. I know you two aren't close, but
we're still on vacation. And there's so much to do around here. I promise,
you'll have fun."

"Sorry to be so negative," I said. "I don't really want to leave. Not if
you don't."

Dad checked the time again, and then decided to call Steve. When it went
straight to voicemail, Dad guessed that Steve must be close, figuring he
had no service. But an hour later, that guess no longer seemed
possible. Dad called again, but again there was no answer.


I woke to the sound of rain. It was dark out, but Dad was still up and
waiting for Steve. I heard him turn the TV off and go to the
door. Suddenly, I realized Uncle Steve had finally pulled up and Dad was
going to help him carry things in from the rain. I wasn't ready to see my
uncle, so I pretended to be fast asleep when he first came in. The two saw
me and grew quiet, whispering about traffic and how a semi truck had caught
on fire somewhere on the highway. Dad asked if everyone was okay, and Steve
said yes, but complained that every car in front of him slowed to a crawl
to see the burnt-up container on the side of the road.

"And then, of course, I had to look," Steve laughed. "Just to verify that
everyone looking was an idiot." They both laughed.

"Well, I'm glad you got here safely. Thanks again for letting us vacation
here. We've been having a great time," Dad whispered.

"No problem. Sorry to crash the party," Uncle Steve whispered back. He did
seem different than I'd ever heard before. Something about the way he was
talking seemed warm and considerate. He seemed truly sorry to invade our
vacation.

"Have you talked to Genny?" Steve asked Dad. I couldn't hear Dad's
response, but Uncle Steve went on about the family. "I hate for you to hear
from me and not your sister, but... we're separated." Dad gasped and said
he was sorry to hear that. I was sorry to hear it too, though I still
pretended to sleep. "Yeah," Steve said, "It's been a long time coming. You
know better than most how frustrated I've been with her these past few
years. We talked about waiting for the kids to go to college, but that
seemed unfair to everyone. Why should they have to grow up in that?"

"It must be hard on all of you," Dad said, as one of them opened a
beer. "Speaking from experience, though, life goes on." I could hear the
mix of emotions in Dad's voice. He didn't chose to leave Mom. It wasn't a
mutual decision like Uncle Steve and Aunt Genny's. Still, he knew what it
was like to start over, I guess.

"It already has," Steve confessed, keeping the details vague. "I'm so much
happier already. And I called Gen on the drive and she seemed happy too."

"Oh good," Dad said, seeming relieved that his sister wasn't upset. "I
should call her tomorrow."

"She'd like that," Steve said.

I knew I was wrong about my uncle. I could hear it in his voice. I'd never
known this side of him. Compassionate in an understated way. He had hopes
and dreams like anyone, had empathy for Aunt Genny, even as they went
through their separation. It occurred to me that maybe Uncle Steve was
moody because he was frustrated with the marriage. It had nothing to do
with me. He was going through hard times and I didn't even know
it. Suddenly I felt selfish, childish, rotten.

I rolled over on the couch, wanting to pretend to wake up so I could join
the men in the kitchen. When they noticed me rousing, though, Steve
whispered to Dad something about being too loud, and soon the two of them
were in the master bedroom. I sat up, wanting to tell them I was awake and
not to worry about it. I wanted to be a part of the group, too, to have a
beer with my dad and uncle. But it was too late. They closed the door and I
was alone.

I thought, maybe if I go to the bathroom, they'll hear me. But I flushed
the toilet and when I got out, they were still in the bedroom. I opened and
closed the fridge. I turned the TV on. But they were still in there. I
couldn't help but wonder what they were doing. Sitting on the bed, talking?
More than that? I wondered if it would be okay to knock, to let them know
that I'm awake and no longer tired. But I figured they wanted their privacy
or they would have left the door open.

I laid back on the couch and tried to sleep, but my curiosity got the
better of me. I laid on the hard floor with my ear to the ground to see
what I could hear. They were talking too quiet, though, and all I could
make out was whispering. I creeped up toward the door to the bedroom and
listened again. Pressing my ear to the bedroom door, I could make out some
of what they were saying.

"You look happy, too," Steve told Dad. "Have you been seeing anyone?"

"Yeah, actually," Dad said, but it was news to me. My heart sank for a
moment, wondering why Dad would keep it from me. And then, suddenly, I
realized it was me he was referring to. "I can't really talk about it,
though," Dad told him, keeping our secret. "It's new. I don't want to jinx
it."

"That's great, though," Steve said. "Is she hot?" I heard Dad dodge the
question. He asked if Steve thought his new relationship was a rebound or
not, and Steve dodged the question too. Soon, the men were bonding over the
fact that they were both exploring sexually later in life. And for once,
actually free to do so. Dad described the blow job I had only half given
him as life-changing, telling Steve that he didn't remember how good sex
could be when you actually care about a person. I had butterflies in my
stomach. Dad was talking about me like he was in love, like his feelings
were real and maybe equaled mine.

"Well, I'm not quite there yet," Steve laughed. "I'm still just getting my
dick wet." Dad laughed too. "But it's electric, man. I feel like a teenager
again. I haven't had so much fun since... Well, since you." He told Dad
that he thought a lot about their wild summer, and Dad said the
same. Suddenly, I felt like I was doing something really wrong, listening
in. But I was fascinated. I wanted to know Steve better and was finally
getting to. And Dad wouldn't mind, would he? He had told me everything
already.

"I probably shouldn't tell you this," Dad said to Steve, and I froze. It
was like on an airplane when you hit turbulence and are suddenly
falling. My guts tingled and I could do nothing but wait for the fall to
end and to feel safe again. "I told Kyle about it," he said. Dad didn't
mention the pictures or breaking into the room. And I didn't mind Steve
knowing, I didn't feel betrayed. Dad said he might tell him, and their
conversation was so intimate, it felt right for him to know.

"Whoa, really?" Steve said. "How did he take it?" He seemed nervous.

"He was fine," Dad said. "He's a good kid. He's going through his own
stuff, and I wanted him to know he doesn't have to be secretive with
me. That we're all just people, figuring this shit out, ya know."

"Exactly," Steve said. "So, he wasn't upset?"

"Not at all. Maybe a little surprised. He doesn't know you all that
well. And he certainly didn't know that his dad had fucked a guy before."


"You told him you fucked me?!" Steve said, shocked. He didn't seem upset,
so much as surprised at what all I knew.

"Kyle and I have grown very close," Dad admitted. I could hear in his voice
that he meant more than he could say. I wonder if Steve did too.

"Shit, man," Steve said. "The next time I see him, all I'm going to think
about is that the kid knows Daddy fucked his uncle." The two laughed some
more.

"And that will turn you on, I'm sure."

"Yeah, probably. I'm such a pervert, I'm sorry," Uncle Steve said, but Dad
didn't seem to mind. "Does it turn you on, him knowing?"

"A little bit," Dad admitted. I didn't like where the conversation was
going. Dad was right, he isn't a very good liar. What if Steve asked the
right question and gave us away?

"Wow. That's hot," Steve said. "You beat off thinking about it?" My uncle
had lust in his voice, and hearing it had an effect on me.

"Not yet," Dad joked, like he would think of it later. "Haven't really been
beating off much on this trip."

Fuck. Was he going to tell him?! I wanted to interrupt, to knock on the
door. Anything.

"Can you keep a secret?" he asked Steve. I couldn't believe my ears. It was
happening. He promised me he wouldn't tell him, and he was going to.

"Of course, bro," Steve said, sounding curious.

"I answered a personal ad. From a teenager on the lake," Dad said. "It was
on a whim. I was horny. I don't know, but I did. I sent him pictures of me
and everything. Went to the woods to meet him. I feel like a total
creep. He's as young as Kyle, I think."

"Fuck," Steve said. "Be careful with that. You could get arrested."

"I know!" Dad seemed truly upset. But I was relieved. Both that he wasn't
telling Steve about what him and I had done, and also that he hadn't
figured out that it was me all along.

"I even talked on the phone with the kid," Dad said. "But when it got too
steamy, I hung up on him." Steve asked if the kid called back, and Dad
admitted that he was afraid he would. I realized I should maybe tell Dad
the truth, that it was me and that he has nothing to worry about. But when?
Eventually, I thought. I didn't want to upset him. What if it ruined
everything we had going between us?

"Kyle thinks you hate him," Dad said, out of nowhere. "He thinks cause
you're quiet that you don't like him. I joked that you might have a crush
on him."

"You said that?!" Steve was the one to sound upset now. "Did he know you
were kidding, I hope?"

"Yeah, of course," Dad said. "Why, is it true?" I expected them to laugh,
but they didn't. "You do?" Dad sounded upset for a second, but he didn't
sound surprised.

"I wouldn't call it a crush," Uncle Steve corrected him. "He's a handsome
boy, what can I say?" But Steve was acting overly defensive. I could feel
myself blush. I could hear the bed as they adjusted how they were
sitting. "Come on! I mean, you've told me yourself that you look at him."

"Did I?" Dad asked, like he didn't remember saying it.

"Yeah, when we were at the beach that time and he came out of the water,
all tan and young. He finally looked like a little man and I joked that you
were staring. You told me you were proud to have such a handsome son, but
that you were afraid it would get you in trouble."

"I must have been kidding," Dad said. He didn't like where the conversation
was going any more than I did.

"You were not kidding," Steve said, like it was an undeniable fact. "You
told me that get hard, thinking about him discovering himself. You don't
remember that?"

"But that's not the same. You know it isn't." Dad was the one sounding
defensive then. I wanted them to change the subject. But I didn't want
Steve to get any ideas.

"You're blushing!" Steve said, laughing. "Maybe you're the one with the
crush."

Dad excused himself to go to the bathroom. Too quickly, he came to the
door. I had taken a step back, but it wasn't enough. He opened the door,
and there I was. It startled him. And when Dad looked me in the eyes, it
was like he was actually afraid. Like he forgot that I knew how he felt
about me, as if I had heard something unimaginable. But I had already
imagined it. I had more than imagined it. In fact, I had felt it. Tasted
it. Held it, briefly.

Dad pushed me gently backward, not wanting Steve to see that I'd been
listening. He closed the door behind him and pushed me into the bathroom
with him and closed the door.

"Were you eavesdropping? You little sneak!" He seemed actually upset, and
he should have. I felt bad, so I lied.

"No!" I told him. "I woke up and wondered where you were. I was just about
to knock when you opened the door." Dad raised an eyebrow, not quite buying
it.

"What did you hear?" Dad asked me, but I couldn't look him in the face.

"Nothing I didn't already know," I said, reaching for his crotch. Hoping to
remind him how close we had become, that we had no secrets any more. Dad
pushed my hand off of his crotch and gave me a look like he was
disappointed in me. But then he smiled too, like the entire situation was
too surreal. He unzipped his shorts and pulled out his dick, stepping to
the toilet. He started to piss, right there in front of me. I'd never seen
him piss before, and I couldn't pull my eyes off the stream coming out of
his flaccid dick head.

"Are you mad?" I asked. "I wasn't tired. I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Dad said. "But it's not cool either. We'll talk about it
later, okay?"

Dad shook his dick and a few drips of pee fell to the toilet as he flushed
it. He pushes past me again, and out the bathroom door.

But Steve's door was open. He wasn't in his room. And only after I'd
followed Dad into the kitchen did I see Steve getting a beer out of the
fridge. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd noticed I wasn't on the
couch. What must he have thought we were doing in the bathroom? Everything
was happening too quick. I didn't know if I should make up a story or
return to the couch, hoping he didn't notice.

"Look who's up," Dad said, making it feel okay.

"Hey Kyle," Uncle Steve said. I remembered him saying that all he'd be
thinking about when he saw me was that my dad had fucked him, that I knew
it. And that the idea would turn him on. I couldn't help but glance down at
his crotch, and he saw me do it. Fuck.

"Hey," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"Kyle just woke up. I found him in the bathroom," Dad lied.

"Brushing my teeth," I said. "I forgot to."

"I was telling your dad how sorry I am to crash your vacation," Steve said,
smiling at me like he knew everything.

"It's cool," I said. "It's your house."

"Well, it's yours for the week," he said. "I hope you feel at home."

"Thanks. We do," Dad said, answering for the both of us.

"Now that everyone's up, we can talk sleeping arrangements," Steve said,
reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a key and unlocked the kids'
room. "I also broke the news to your dad, Kyle," he said. "Your aunt and I
are splitting up. That's why this room is locked. I have all my stuff
packed up. I've been hiding it here. Wasn't sure it would be official. I
hope you understand."

Steve stepped into the room and immediately picked up the pile of his more
private things. He looked around, not sure where put them.

"Do you think you two would be comfortable with bunk beds? Or one of you
could sleep on the couch, if you want privacy?" I looked at Dad, wanting to
follow his lead. "Or, you could share the big room, and I could sleep on
the couch. Whatever you want."

Dad looked at me, like he wanted me to decide, but all I could think about
is if Uncle Steve knew or not. Why would he offer us the big bed otherwise?
Or was he simply listing all of the options?

"I don't care where I sleep," Dad said, and I agreed.

"Why don't you two sleep in here, then?" Steve said, carrying his stuff to
the master bedroom. "We can move the boxes off the beds. Then I won't wake
anyone up when I watch the early morning news." I pictured sharing the
kids' room with dad, whispering between bunks like it were camp. Except
with my dad.

"Oh, don't worry about waking us up. Kyle sleeps through anything--as you
noticed."

I helped Steve move the boxes off the bunks, piling them in the corner of
the room. I tried to make eye contact with him, but he seemed uneasy with
me. I glanced at his crotch every chance I got, but he wasn't aroused. Not
that I could see.

"Well, I had a long drive, guys," he said, once the beds were clear. "I
hope you don't mind if I go to bed. We can catch up tomorrow."

"Sure thing," Dad said, "I'm tired myself." He winked at me, but I wasn't
sure if it meant anything. I hugged my uncle and said goodnight, thanking
him again for letting us stay there. He almost didn't respond, like
normal. And then he patted me on the back.

"Any time," he said, pointedly, as if he were making an effort to be nicer.

Dad and I closed the door behind us, and he gave me a wide-eyed look like
we were almost caught. Or were caught. I wasn't sure of anything. I
returned the glare, and started changing into my pajamas.

"Top or bottom?" Dad asked me. I turned around and smiled at the way he was
looking at me. Like he was happy to be alone again.

"I wish we could sleep in the same bed," I confessed, pulling off my
shirt. Dad stared at my naked chest like he hadn't seen it before. I
remembered how he touched it earlier in the day, how he'd felt every part
of me. I started to get hard, my flannel pants tenting up.

"Me too, son," he whispered, watching me as I played with my bouncy crotch.

He sat on the bed and pulled his socks off. Stood and pulled his shorts
off. I loved seeing him in his boring white underwear. It looked like he
never expected to be seen naked, and it made it feel all the more special
that I was staring at his dick and balls through the thin fabric. He pulled
his shirt off, like he was giving me a show. His hairy belly and pecs,
bushy armpit as he pulled the shirt over his face. Dad hadn't shaved since
we got to the house. I always loved how casual he looked on vacation. I
reached up to touch his shadowy cheek, and he caught my hand, kissed it.

"Why don't we start out in the same bed," he whispered. "And if I need to,
I can climb up to the top."

I nodded, my heart racing again. I wanted him to hold me all night, to feel
my dad's hairy chest on my back all night, his arms around me. I started
toward the bed, but he stopped me, pulling me toward him. He looked me in
the eyes, like he wanted to say something. Maybe many things. But instead,
he kissed my forehead. I put my cheek to his chest as he held me there for
a few seconds, all sweet. And then I pushed my hardening crotch to his, and
he pulled me tight, almost rough, slamming our covered cocks together and
grinding.

"Ugh," I heard him grunt softly, squeezing my ass cheeks. I reached up to
put my arms around his big back, and felt him flex as his arms pulled me
hard into him by my ass.


"Fuck, Dad," I whispered up toward his ear, wanting him to call me "son." I
wanted to hear that he knew who his dick was pressed against, that I wasn't
just some body to him, a rebound keeping his mind off of Mom, but his one
and only boy. Big as I felt, I was still his little guy. And I wanted to
hear it. And so I figured he wanted to hear it too.

"Daddy," I whispered again, my blood filled with lust. I hadn't called him
that since I was little.

"Yes, sonny boy?" He asked, like he knew just what I longed for. I moaned
as my cock let out some precum into my pajamas. It made the flannel feel
wet against me as we continued to grind there, standing up. Dad moved his
hands to my waist.

"I love you so much," I said softly, nearly panting.

"I can feel that," he said, laughing quietly. I wanted him to kiss me
again. Hard on the mouth. I wanted to feel my dad's tongue search for mine,
and then tease it. But instead, he stopped grinding and looked me straight
in the eyes. My heart was beating loud, and so was his. I felt like I was
shaking, my legs weak.

"Call me 'Daddy' again, boy," he begged. And I said it. I could see in his
eyes how it was pushing him over the edge. I said it again, and again. I
looked down at his crotch. He was fully erect, his hard cock straining and
wet against his tight underwear, the red head of his dick showing pink
through the fabric.

"Kiss me, Daddy?" I begged him in return. And he nodded. Only he didn't
kiss me, not on the mouth.

My Dad lowered to his knees, kneeling in front of me, his mouth on the
flannel around my dick. I could feel his warm tongue as started to suck on
the precum out of my wet pajamas. I let out a moan. Maybe too loud. Dad
stopped and reminded me to be quiet. And then he listened, like he had
heard something.

Then, sure enough, there was a knock at the door.