Date: Mon, 4 Mar 2024 13:30:42 +0100 (CET) From: Keith Castello Subject: My Dad the Widower - Chapter 3 ----- This work is purely fictional and contains explicit material and taboo themes. I don't condone or encourage recreating the acts in this story in real life--in fact, I strongly discourage it! Though I have no problems with people indulging their fantasies through fiction, where the people aren't actually real. Feedback welcome at ----- Chapter 3 I worried about the awkwardness between daddy and me while I waited for him in the car. He barely spoke a word after the shower. In my anxious state, I replayed every scene in that shower, trying to pinpoint exactly what caused the awkwardness. I fixated on the `roughness' in my crotch daddy was talking about. I was worried it had something to do with what daddy smeared on it last night, and that he was able to piece together what happened. I was nervous that he might be mad at me. Daddy finished checking out and in a short while, we drove off. He was still silent so I was silent too. My mind was abuzz with what-ifs. And the thought that daddy's silence was because he was mad tortured me for the first hour of the drive. But as daddy switched to country music again and I rested my head a little, my eyes started to feel heavy, and I remembered that I hadn't had any real sleep yet. Shortly after I did, the unease gave way as I drifted off to sleep. Later, I was awakened by some light slapping on my cheek. "Wake up, sleeping beauty," daddy teased. My eyes fluttered open to the sight of a surprisingly familiar street. I wasn't fully awake yet and was trying to place where I'd seen the street before when daddy kissed me lightly on the cheek. "Sleep well?" he asked softly. That gesture instantly eased any worry that came back screaming as I woke up. I yawned as I turned to reply, but I jumped in my seat when I caught sight of the house daddy parked in front of. "Grandpa's house??" I gasped. "Yeah," daddy said, chuckling. "But, what..." I started to ask why we were here when I saw the front door swing open. "Grandpa!" I exclaimed. I opened the car door and ran around the car, speeding toward my grandpa until I finally tackled him. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed as tight as I could. He quickly grabbed my armpits and lifted me up to his face. He did a couple of munchie monsters and gave me a big bear hug. I rested my head on his shoulder and hugged him back tightly, swinging my legs midair. He set me back down as daddy approached us. "Hey dad," daddy smiled. I stood back and observed them as they greeted each other with a hug. I always found it curious how alike they were as much as they were different. Grandpa was as tall as daddy, and definitely was built the same as daddy. He's clearly much older and that showed in his physique, but they had more or less the same humongous frame. I looked up at them like I was looking at giants. I wondered if I would one day grow to be the same size, but I couldn't wrap my mind around how I could go from this to that. Their faces though were quite different from each other. There's enough there that you could tell they were related, but they were still two very different types of men. Grandpa was very handsome, in the way that matinee idols are handsome. He always had a smile on his face. Even when he wasn't smiling, something about his eyes always was. There was just a light to him, centered on his face, that was mesmerizing and fascinating whenever you looked at his face. Daddy's face, on the other hand, was much more goonish, and his expression was stoic, most of the time--almost angry. He was more rugged than he was handsome, and many men are often visibly intimidated by him. The mystery of their difference percolated in my head as I watched. How could such a resemblance exist with such a vast difference at the same time? They broke off their hug and exhaled. "You hungry, little fella?" grandpa asked as he tapped dad's shoulder. I hadn't noticed until then how hungry I was. "Starving!" I beamed. They laughed. "Good, `cause I made pasta," grandpa remarked. "C'mon in." Grandpa started back inside and I grabbed daddy's hand and walked alongside him. I felt relieved that daddy and I weren't awkward anymore. Though, in the back of my mind, I still had a lot of questions. When we got to the kitchen, my mouth started watering at the sight of the big bowl of spaghetti and meatballs on the table. All my anxieties went up in smoke. Grandpa was an excellent cook and he knew a lot about food. I had puttanesca for the first time during one of our visits a few years ago. It was still the best meal I've ever had. Completely unexpected, mostly because of the veggies. I asked grandpa then how he was able to make it so good, and he went on for twenty minutes about handmade pasta. We made our way to the dining table and I took a seat opposite daddy, by the end of the table. I watched eagerly as grandpa served some pasta on my plate. I was so hungry I was almost trembling. "Dig in!" grandpa said. He set the bowl down and ruffled my hair as he took a seat at the end of the table. I stuck my tongue out and made a panting sound at daddy, and they both cracked up. We were silent for a few minutes as we took our first few bites. It looked like daddy was even hungrier than me. He served himself a mountain of pasta on the plate and got four meatballs, one of which he ate in one bite. Even now, it startles me how much daddy eats in one meal--and he had more on his plate than usual. I noticed that grandpa was watching him as well, snickering. Daddy served himself probably two thirds of what was in the bowl, and in about two minutes, half of what was on his plate was gone. He might as well have eaten directly out of the bowl. I giggled at the mental image and caught grandpa's attention. It seemed like we were thinking the same thing. "Jesus, dad," daddy muttered, his mouth still full. Grandpa wasn't eating yet. He had one elbow rested at the edge of the table and his hands clasped as he watched daddy eating. "Geez, dude, it's not a race!" grandpa remarked. They both laughed. I giggled along as I took another bite of spaghetti. "Sorry, dad," daddy said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I just hadn't had breakfast yet." Daddy puffed out his chest as he burped, making me giggle once more. "Little Danny here was asleep the whole time, and I didn't wanna wake him," daddy continued. "No, that's alright," grandpa replied as he started to dig in. "Daddy, you didn't tell me our new place was gonna be grandpa's place!" I said excitedly, finally getting full. "Oh, no, Danny. You're just gonna stay here for the night while I fix up the new place," daddy replied. I pouted. Grandpa smiled at the sight of that, and he ran his hand over my hair to comfort me. "But why not? Couldn't we just stay here?" I pleaded. "Then we can have pasta everyday!" "Uhh, well...we're gonna be close by, honey," daddy said. "You can visit grandpa much more often now." "But why not just stay here, daddy?" grandpa interjected. He turned to daddy and rested his elbow on the table again. Daddy tilted his head and shot grandpa a look, staring at him with a blank face and widened eyes. Grandpa raised an eyebrow in response, and I squinted my eyes trying to figure out what they weren't saying. There was an uncomfortably long lull after that. Finally, grandpa took a deep breath and turned to me. "Danny, why don't you go watch some TV in the living room while your dad and I catch up?" he suggested. I could tell they wanted to have a grown up talk so I obliged. "Can I bring some more spaghetti?" I negotiated. "You can have all of it!" grandpa replied. He took the bowl and poured what little pasta was left after daddy's hoarding. I stood up and thanked him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. I then made my way to the living room beside the kitchen. I set the plate of spaghetti on the coffee table but I was feeling nosy. So, I turned on the TV and lowered the volume, then I hid behind the wall near the entrance to the kitchen and listened in. "Why not stay here, daddy?" grandpa started. "Dad, don't start." "I'm serious, Garrett. I've been trying to talk to you about this for weeks. Well, now you can't duck me on the phone so I'm gonna ask again: Why would you wanna put you and Danny up in a lousy one-bedroom when you've got all the space you could need right here?" "I just--" daddy trailed off. "...well?" grandpa nudged. Daddy sighed. "I just...I feel like I need to see Danny through this alone." Another lull ensued. "I mean...when mom died, you did the same for me and Ben, and I admired you for that, dad. Honestly. I respect it. I saw how hard it was for you, and I thought it was really cool how you held it together. Honestly, it's because of that that you were sort of like a role model for me. And I think it might be good if I could do the same thing for Danny, wouldn't it?" Grandpa paused. "You wanna see Danny through this alone? Or is it that *you* wanna be alone?" "...what?" "Look, it's not that I mean anything by it, Garrett. It's just that...well...you've always been very private. And that's fine. I like to think that I've given you the space you need, especially when you were growing up. But this is different." Daddy made no response. "Look," grandpa continued, "it's great that you think the world of me because of that time. I love that. But that's not how I remember it." Daddy remained silent. "When your mother passed, every day I was in hell. She was very dear to me, you understand? She was truly my best friend. I loved her and now I lost her. And it felt like I couldn't even grieve that loss because of all the responsibility. You and your brother. My job. The mortgage. And I don't blame you for that, no, no. But, you have to understand, every fucking day I felt like I was being pulled apart by all that responsibility. I just couldn't breathe! And every night, all I could do was scream silently for help. Do you understand what I'm telling you?" Daddy stayed silent but I could hear him start sniffling, and my heart began to break. I wanted so badly to run in and give daddy a hug. "You're gonna need help, Garrett. Trust me. When I was in your shoes, the only reason you saw me go through it alone was because I didn't have a choice. But there's no need for it to be that way." I heard daddy continue sniffling, this time more harshly through his nose. My eyes started to well up too. Surprisingly, it wasn't the memory of mommy that upset me. I had made peace with that when daddy sat me down one day and explained her `proc-noses'. What worried me was daddy's crying. I understood instantly what grandpa meant when he said he was `being pulled apart' because I saw daddy go through that everyday since mommy died--nay, everyday since mommy got sick. Every sniffle I heard pained me and I grew frustrated that I couldn't be by his side at that moment. I started shedding a few tears myself. "Hell, in a way you have it worse. You lost your wife *and* your house," grandpa added. Another pause ensued before dad finally spoke. "I miss her, dad," he said softly. I heard some shuffling and a squeak of the chair. "I don't even care about the fucking house--thanks--" daddy blew into a tissue. "Actually, that's not true," daddy said, triggering both of them to laugh. "Oh god, dad, my credit!" daddy started laugh-crying. Grandpa laughed out loud in response. "But mostly I just miss her," daddy said, after the laughing died down. "And I don't even know what to do with this...this..." "Grief," grandpa interrupted. "That's grief, son. And you don't have to do anything with it. But you still feel better now, don't you? You see, that's what company does to grief. All I'm saying is, if nothing else, that's what I'm offering you here." Another pause. Daddy sniffled again through his nose. "Thanks, dad. Listen," daddy said, taking in a breath, "I don't think we're there yet, but I'll think about it. Promise." "Okay. Fair enough. Whenever you're ready, alright?" I heard a kissing sound and daddy went "ewww!" They laughed. I giggled silently along with them. "And one more thing," grandpa added. "What are you gonna do about your sex life?" My brows furrowed at the words. Sex life? "Ugh," Daddy scoffed out loudly. "Dad!" "I'm serious!" Grandpa said, laughing. "Am I giving you advice here or aren't I?" I could hear daddy squirming audibly as I racked my brain "Listen--listen--you need to hear this, alright? When I was in your shoes, I ended up going without sex for a very long time. Years. And that was just as tough as every other thing about the process, `kay? I'd forgotten how to date, how to flirt, so I couldn't get any--drove me crazy! I'll admit to you now, that was probably the reason behind a few of the spankings you and Ben got from me that time." Daddy snickered. "I'm just saying, that's something you have to look out for, too." Daddy didn't respond, aside from another `ugh' under his breath. "You know..." grandpa trailed off, "Dylan still lives around here." "Dad!" daddy screamed, laughing "I'm just saying!" grandpa bellowed emphatically, joining daddy in his laughter. "I'm just saying," grandpa continued, "the only other time I've seen you this broken up was when you lost that little boyfriend of yours." My forehead creased and my eyes widened at the sound of it. Daddy had a boyfriend? "Now, Christine is gone--nothing you can do about that. But maybe, at the very least, in the interest of your...*needs*...you can start something up with Dylan again, you know? I mean, the two of you had something special, back in the day. And isn't it possible that what you lost with Christine, you could find with him? When you're ready, of course." "It doesn't have to be a woman, you know," grandpa followed. "As long as your needs are met." I heard daddy squirm again before he replied. "I don't know, dad. I mean...he kinda looks too much like Danny, don't you think?" "I don't see it," grandpa said after a short pause. "Well, maybe not...I don't know." "Well, you don't have to decide everything today, right? I'm just saying, you need to find a way to get that need met, too. `Cause if you don't, it...well, it spills over. It affects your mood, your concentration, you might even take it out on Danny--it's just a mess. Alright?" "Yeah, yeah, alright, dad." Another pause. "Thanks, dad," daddy said. I scurried back to the couch when I heard them pull their chairs back. After ten minutes, daddy and grandpa emerged from the kitchen. Daddy made his way to my side of the couch and kneeled to my level. "Hey, baby. I'm gonna leave you here with grandpa now, okay?" "Where're you going, daddy?" "I'm just gonna go fix up the new place, `member? So it's all ready when you move in." "Are you sure you don't need any help?" grandpa asked. "I'll be fine, dad. Besides, I need you here for when the movers come to drop off our stuff." "Right. I'm storage." They laughed while I stared at the TV, pretending I didn't eavesdrop on their conversation in the kitchen. They talked business for a few more minutes then daddy leaned over the couch, wrapping his arms around me playfully and planting a kiss on my cheek. "You behave yourself, okay?" "I will, daddy." "Good boy. I love you," daddy said, kissing me once more on the cheek. "I love you too, daddy." *** Garrett flopped down on the mattress and breathed a sigh of relief. Alone at last. He closed his eyes and took in the brief moment of peace--the first one he's had in almost three years. To his surprise, he found that the talk he had with his father earlier that day chipped away, just a little bit, at the tremendous grief and pressure he'd been carrying for so long. It was just a bit, but it gave him the headspace he needed to look at the other areas of his life that had fallen by the wayside, unattended to because he was in survival mode. A strong heatwave spontaneously pulsated from his groin, blanketing his entire body, as the full weight of his unintentional abstinence finally set in, for the first time. He heaved. His hand wandered to his penis, fondling it as he took in the sudden wave of emotion. "I'm so horny," he thought desperately. His mind drifted to the thought of Dylan. Another heatwave enveloped him as the image of his first love flashed in his mind. His father suggested starting something up again with him, if only to satisfy his primal need for sex--a need that had, in that moment, suddenly taken on such an urgency--one he hadn't felt since he was a sex-crazed teenager. He took in a deep breath and started massaging his cock harder as he called up the memory of that first night he ever had with Dylan. ----- If you liked this story, please consider supporting Nifty by visiting -----