Date: Sun, 17 Mar 2024 01:23:48 +0100 (CET) From: Keith Castello Subject: My Dad the Widower - Chapter 6 ----- 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! Feedback welcome (even hateful ones) Email: Website: ----- Chapter 6 Garrett sat on the couch by the receptionist, absently shaking his knee as he waited. He hadn't expected to be reporting to such a swanky office. From the sound of his boss's voice over the phone, he assumed he'd be set up in the back room of another main street shop, just like Sal's. This place, however, had no storefront. The office had the whole 31st floor and it was decked in a sharp, industrial motif---brick walls, exposed iron beams, finished off with rich and spotless hardwood floors. The place was littered with potted plants, which Garrett thought added a nice contrast. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooked most of uptown. And this was just at reception. The rest of the office was mostly walled off by the biggest slab of wood he had ever seen; you'd have to go around it to get to the actual office. Plastered on that slab, looming over the receptionists, was the company's name, cast in steel: Porter & Co. | Interiors + Architecture. As Garrett people-watched, the feeling of triumph he had at the start of the day quickly faded. The people that entered the office were dressed sharply, despite the casual wear. They walked tall and were well-groomed. He tugged at his faded shirt as he looked down at his muddied steel toe boots, and he gulped. He could tell that most of them were college-educated, and, for a moment, he hated himself for taking that apprenticeship with Sal all those years ago, instead of going to college like his father had insisted. He sighed. He was worrying about how expensive lunch was gonna be when one of the receptionists called his attention. "Mr. Wright?" the receptionist repeated, cutting through the chatter in his head. He looked up and nodded. "Mr. Donoghue will see you now. If you will just follow me?" Garrett scrambled to his feet and the girl led him around to the back of the large wooden panel, where he was met with a view of the whole office. It had an open floor plan and was expansive, flooded with natural light from the virtually 360-degree view of the city. It was fitted with designer desks, cubicles, and drafting tables. At the center of the floor were a few large, communal tables, atop of which rested a few scale models. The floor was astir with the college-educated yuppies. It was a sharp change from the solitary workshop he'd been working at for nearly two decades. The whole scene made him feel insecure, but an intuitive flash reminded him that this job was a great opportunity. He took a deep breath as he took in more of the scene, assuring himself that things were turning around for him. They got to the far end of the floor where there was a row of conference rooms. The rooms were named after types of wood, which Garrett oddly found pretentious, despite his background. The girl stopped near the end of the row and ushered him into the Birch room. "He'll be with you shortly," the girl said before she left. Garrett took a seat, laying his portfolio neatly in front of him. He took a deep breath as he looked out the window, trying to calm his nerves. "Wright!" someone yelled suddenly. Garrett turned toward the door, where a man was already standing there. "Sal's boy!" the man added as he approached, holding out his hand. Garrett stood swiftly and shook his hand. He was a broad man already sporting a five o'clock shadow. Tall, but not as tall as Garrett. His tie was already loose and his shirt was haphazardly tucked behind a pair of jeans. It relieved Garrett that his would-be boss was the type to be clumsily put-together. "Sal speaks very highly of you. Glad to have you here, son," he said as they shook hands "Thank you, Mr. Donoghue," Garrett replied. "Please, call me Eric." The man had a permanent smile on his face, not unlike the one Garrett's father had. "Sit, sit," he added. The two sat down at opposite ends of the table. "So, Sal tells me you've fallen on hard times," Eric started, surprising Garrett. "Uhh, yeah," Garrett replied, clearing his throat. His mind was frozen out of a reply; it was such an unexpected remark. "Well...actually, Eric, if you don't mind, I'd rather not go into detail about it." "Oh, no, of course. Sorry, I wasn't trying to pry. I'm just---just saying, I'm happy to be of help." "I appreciate that. Thank you." "And it isn't charity either, by the way. I think you're exactly the guy we need. Our clientele is pretty upscale around here, you know? And our guys, they're good---damn good---but high-end clients demand a lot of bespoke stuff. And our guys, they're not as...well-versed in the bespoke stuff, you see? And that's where you come in." "Yeah, for sure. I mean, bespoke is basically all I've ever done. I could show you-" Garrett began to flip open his portfolio, but Eric chuckled. "Hey, hey, listen. We don't need to do all that. You already got the job!" Garrett's heart jumped at the words. "Really?" he asked. "Yeah! Hey, Sal's word is good enough for me." "Thank you, Mr. Don-...Eric. Thank you, really," Garrett said, his face beaming. "Aw, don't mention it. And besides, I've basically already seen that portfolio of yours. I was having lunch with Sal when he brought you up. He showed me a lot of pictures of your work---the ones you've sent him, over the years. He's very proud of you, you know. Talks about you like you're his own son or something." "Right, of course. Yeah, sounds like him. But I owe him a lot." Eric smiled. "So, listen. You'll be working mostly with the interior design teams and their projects. Now, I'd love to ease you into this place---show you the ropes, introduce you to everyone, all that---but there's a project that kicks off today, and we could really use someone like you." "Oh, of course. No problem." Garrett remembered how he looked and started to apologize. "Hey, sorry about how I look. I didn't realize this was a smart-casual sort of place." "Please. Don't worry about it. You'll be onsite maybe 90% of the time anyway---that's probably how you should be dressing, most days." "Thanks," Garrett replied, laughing awkwardly. "So there's a meeting in..." Eric trailed off as he glanced at his watch. "...now. Shit. Come on, I'll introduce you to the team." The rest of the morning went by in a flash. Shortly after their chat, Garrett was roped into a two-hour meeting that briefed the team on the project they were gonna be working on. It was for the new penthouse of a wealthy investment banker and his socialite wife. Garrett was tasked to work on a vast wooden installation that would span the entire property. He was to return to the office in the afternoon for another briefing with the associate most familiar with the client's wishes, but who couldn't make it to the kickoff because he was out onsite for another project. It was just past noon and Garrett found himself settled in a burger joint for lunch. He relaxed as he waited for his order, trying to digest the briefing. He tried to focus but he found that his mind kept coming back to Eric's assistant, Andy. Andy was a short man, barely up to Garrett's chest. He was openly gay, with a slightly effeminate manner about him, but not so much that it reflected in the way he dressed. He wore a crisp, baby blue button down shirt, tucked in a pair of well-cut chinos. The fragrance he wore reminded Garrett of baby powder, which a nice complement to his adorable smile. As soon as he flashed that smile, Garrett developed a crush instantly. The first thing he noticed were Andy's red lips. But as their small talk went on, Garrett's gaze slowly drifted down to Andy's bosom. His shirt outlined his plump breasts quite nicely. They were nicely rounded but still proportionate, and the vague outline of his tiny nipples teased. Something simmered inside Garrett's chest as he stared at them. An image of him suckling ravenously on Andy's tit flashed in his head, making his mouth dry. He had to snap himself out of it when he realized he was already staring, and he examined Andy's facial expressions when he did, hoping that he hadn't noticed. If he did, he didn't show it. Garrett grew desperately horny the more he thought about Andy. His cock began to harden and he was rudely reminded of his years-long sexual drought. It breathed down his neck like an outrageous debt---only he owed it to himself, and it was time to collect. He closed his eyes and buried his face in his palms, trying to muffle his urges. He considered a quick jerk off in the men's bathroom before he returned to the office. He felt his balls weigh heavy in his groin and he decided that *not* rubbing one out wasn't an option. But there was also an inner knowing that a quickie was nowhere near enough, given his state. He sighed helplessly as he looked up. His order arrived shortly and he spent the rest of his break focusing. He still had an important meeting in the afternoon, and he wanted to make a good impression. The elevator doors dinged as Garrett checked his watch, coming back from lunch. He had five minutes to spare, and he snickered silently as he figured that he would only need one. As the elevator doors opened, he made a beeline to the bathroom. He was about to turn the corner when a familiar voice called out his name. "You're back!" Andy added. "Oh, yeah, didn't wanna be late," Garrett replied. "You're one o'clock is here." "Oh, uhh...sure thing." Garrett turned fully around and started toward the office, frustrated. "Uhm...I think he can wait a few minutes if you have to pee," Andy said, chuckling. "Come on, you'll be fine." Andy led him to the bathroom. Garrett chuckled awkwardly as he followed, scratching his head. He felt a wave of mixed emotions that moment. On one hand, following Andy gave him the chance to check out his bubble butt. On the other, his core vibrated with frustration as his plans for a quickie was stifled. The sight of Andy's bottom, however brief, triggered his frustration tenfold. They made more small talk over the urinals then walked back to the office. Andy pointed him to the conference room of his next meeting then went back to his desk. Garrett made his to the conference room but the instant he entered, he was smacked in the face with a brick by what he saw. Sitting at the center of the long table was Dylan. "Hi, Garrett," Dylan beamed. Garrett tried to speak but his mind drew a blank as soon as he did. Dylan laughed and stood, meeting Garrett by the door and gesturing a hug. Garrett's jaw was still dropped as Dylan wrapped his arms around his neck, squeezing him tight. Garrett hugged back. He rubbed and patted the small of Dylan's back, and the familiar feel of it slowly eased Garrett out of his startlement. Dylan pulled away and they stared at each other. "...wha-" Garrett uttered. Dylan chuckled, his hands still rested on Garrett's shoulders. "I knew it was gonna be you. I knew it!" Dylan exclaimed. "...wha...huh?" "As soon as they said I was gonna be in a meeting with the new guy, Garrett? The *wood* guy?! I knew it couldn't've been anyone else!" "W-what are you talking about?" Garrett asked, his face now beaming too. "How did you know...?" "Well, I mean, word gets around fast around here. You know. Especially when it comes from your dad." They laughed. Garrett was now fully eased, and he got a good look at Dylan without the scrambled brain. He was instantly mesmerized at how well Dylan had matured. He still had the same innocent, boyish smile, and though he was now many years older, the softness in his face that Garrett fell in love with remained. His heart flashed back to the feeling of being deeply in love with Dylan, and it occurred to him that his dad might have been on to something; maybe it was worth rekindling something with Dylan. Their laughing died down and they paused, staring into each other's eyes. Dylan still had his hands resting on Garrett's broad shoulders, and Garrett had his hands on Dylan's waist. His palms sizzled at the touch of them, his sexual frustration engorging unbearably in his chest. Despite all the strength he mustered not to lean in and kiss Dylan, a thought---a mere whisper in his mind---broke through with ease: *kiss him*. Garrett diverted his gaze slowly toward Dylan's lips, and his decision in the affirmative approached like a high speed train on full steam. His animal instinct took over completely and he began to lean in. But at the slightest nudge, Dylan tapped his shoulders and pulled away awkwardly. Garrett felt a sting as his hands slipped from Dylan's waist. He was left parched, and the frustration in him pulsated and boomed. "Uhm...so...how've you been? How's the move going?" Dylan began as he walked back to his seat. Garrett cleared his throat and followed. "Good, good. You know. We're settling back in." "Just you and your son?" "Yeah," Garrett uttered. "So I guess you've heard." Dylan let out an awkward laugh. "Yeah. I'm sorry, I just didn't wanna speak ahead of you." "My yapping father. I swear..." Garrett trailed off as he took a seat next to Dylan. Dylan stroked Garrett's forearm as he sat down. "I really am sorry, Garrett. If there's anything I can do..." Garrett stared at him as he extended the courtesy, and Dylan caught a glimpse of a familiar look on Garrett's face. There was a desperation in his eyes, the kind Dylan saw practically everyday during the summers, when they were still together. Garrett was highly-sexed. It amused Dylan, now as it did then, how Garrett gave himself away so easily. Dylan smiled at the thought as he squeezed Garrett's forearm. "Anything you need, okay?" Garrett paused. He kept that look in his face and Dylan smiled, trying not to laugh, and flattered that he could still draw that out of Garrett. "Sure," Garrett replied, clearing his throat again. "Thanks. I appreciate it." Dylan smiled and segued to the brief. They sat together as Dylan went over some slides. Garrett tried to listen as intently as he could, but he was enamored by Dylan. Despite the circumstances surrounding their breakup, he was immensely proud of how much Dylan had grown. He watched as Dylan walked him through the interior design process, and he understood why his old sweetheart fought him hard to trek this path. >From the way he spoke, Garrett also noticed a new assertiveness in Dylan that wasn't there before. He wondered if that had translated to a more assertive Dylan in bed as well. And he wondered if he would enjoy it, having only ever known Dylan to be submissive. His groin began to swelter as the memory of him brutally fucking Dylan flashed in his mind. He recalled how Dylan would give him permission to lose control, how he was hypnotized by the sight of Dylan getting the air fucked out of his lungs, how his lover winced in pain as he towered over him and grappled him in place while he plunged his swollen cock inside his boypussy repeatedly. Garrett tried to refocus his attention multiple times, but he faltered at the sheer force by which these memories flashed in his head, getting him hard. Before this meeting with Dylan, he would have settled for the ugliest leper as long as that leper had a hole. But to have Dylan right in front of him as a viable option...his sanity was bursting at the seams. Once Dylan's slideshow was over, they scooted closer together to go over some 2D schematics. Garrett daringly took the opportunity to test Dylan's receptiveness. He was insatiably hot by this point; daring was all that was left of him. He started subtly. As Dylan hunkered over the schematics, he extended his arm and gripped the far armrest of Dylan's seat and held it there, as he looked over Dylan's shoulder at the floor plans. His arm grazed Dylan's back a few times, and the lack of resistance encouraged him. Soon, he upped his efforts. He reached around and started stroking Dylan's arm--at first "absent-mindedly" and then deliberately. Dylan would giggle and roll his eyes playfully in response. He asked Garrett to stop a couple times, but he said it coyly and with a laugh. It did nothing but embolden Garrett. By the end of the walkthrough, he had his arm wrapped around Dylan's waist, stroking the side of his torso. At one point, he was able to sneak in a dry nipple rub, to which Dylan responded encouragingly. Garrett felt powerful as they began to adjourn. He had Dylan at the palm of his hands and he was confident could start something up again, if he wanted to. And he did. At the surface and in that moment, he wanted to, mostly for the sex he so desperately needed. But at the far end of his mind, in the region that was still sane though silent, he wanted to start things up again because he just knew that there was a chance at a great love with Dylan. After Dylan went over some final notes, they stood to adjourn. Dylan started to make his way to the door but Garrett blocked his path, standing within an inch of him, face to face. "So I'll see you tomorrow? At the site visit?" Garrett softly. He smirked as he looked down at Dylan's face, awaiting his response. "Oh, Garrett...uhm, actually, it's Rhonda who'll be with you tomorrow," Dylan stammered. "What?" "Yeah, uhm, I'll be out of town for three weeks-" "What?!" Garrett said more loudly. He had intended to ask Dylan out to dinner after the site visit. He didn't want to waste any time---he simply couldn't handle wasting anymore time. "Sorryyy! Yeah, I have another project that's almost complete and I have to be there. But Rhonda knows everything I know. She's the best." Dylan stammered and speed talked at the same time. The irate look on Garrett's face triggered an old fear of his, one specific to Garrett and their time together. Garrett looked away as he digested the new information. His frustration grew and was slowly morphing into anger. He couldn't believe his luck today. He would've been happy with a quickie by himself in the bathroom, but the gods saw it fit to dangle two of the biggest carrots in front of him, only to snatch it away for no good reason. His face turned a slight red as he quickly grew pissed. "Garrett, I'm sorry," Dylan said softly, rubbing Garrett's shoulder. Garrett stared at him for a moment and took a breath. "It's fine. It's not your fault," he started. "It's just...we were..." Garret gestured at the chairs. "And you were..." Dylan could only look at him contritiously. He did feel contrite because he knew what Garrett was trying to do, and he participated. He didn't realize how frustrated Garrett would get at being teased, although in hindsight, considering the look on Garrett's face beforehand, he figured he should have known. And he felt guilty. His trigger was urging him to wipe that irate look on Garrett's face. "I'll make it up to you. I promise," he said suggestively. That seemed to do the trick. Garrett's face calmed, but Dylan realized what promise he just made, and a flash of terror washed over him. *What did I do? What did I do?* Garrett took a deep breath as he stared at Dylan. "Yeah. It's fine, it's fine. I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm mad," he said, laughing. Dylan laughed along nervously. "I'm sorry," Garrett said. Dylan only nodded. "But I'll see you in three weeks?" Garrett asked, stroking Dylan's arm. Something caught in Dylan's throat as he stood stiffly. "Mm-hmm," was all he could come up with. Garrett smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek, and they began to exit the conference room. Dylan left the office early to catch his flight, and Garrett spent the rest of the day trying to conceal his sexual frustration, which now seemed to nag him constantly, like a toothache. He was a junkie in withdrawal from something he hadn't had in years. He convinced himself that three more weeks wasn't that bad, and that at least when it came, it was a sure shot at the relief he so desperately needed. But the more he thought about it, the farther away the three week mark seemed to get. It didn't help that Andy flitted around the office, passing him by occasionally. The scent of his perfume and the sight of his butt sired a mental scene in Garrrett's mind: of him grabbing Andy and throwing him down on a desk to rape him, not a care in the world for the rest of the office. That scene played in a loop in his head for the rest of the day, having Andy in different positions and him fucking at the only level of intensity he would enjoy: brutal. *** The workday eventually came to an end but Garrett had to keep up his torturous charade as he had dinner at his dad's house, where Daniel stayed during the day. On their way home, Garrett resolved that he would rub one out as soon as he got in the shower---at all costs. But as they got home and he hopped in the shower, he found that he couldn't concentrate because Daniel was excitedly telling him about his day, through the door. Daniel went on nonstop with his incessant storytelling, and, in that moment, whatever love Garrett had for his son was completely obscured by annoyance and frustration. Finally, he balled his fists in the air and gave up. "This day. What the fuck," he muttered. He changed plans and decided that he would jerk off---four times, if he had to---after Daniel fell asleep. He gritted his teeth through the rest of the night, clinging to the promise of solitude that awaited him once Daniel fell asleep. A little later, he and Daniel got settled into bed, getting ready for sleep. Daniel snuggled up to him and he wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders, waiting for him to fall asleep. Garrett's body tensed up as his son slithered his arm across his daddy's belly. Sleeping next to Daniel was still pretty new to him, since Daniel had his own room in the old house. Even when his father pointed out that they both needed their privacy, he never saw an issue with it---until tonight. In the state he was in, he found that even Daniel's touch aroused him. He closed his eyes and breathed in, deep and slow, trying to rid his mind of the forbidden thoughts that suddenly rushed to his consciousness, like moths to a flame. But as he opened his eyes and saw the image of his son curled up next to him in nothing but his briefs, those thoughts persisted, taunting him. Garrett looked down as little Daniel wrapped his leg loosely around his daddy's thigh. His nostrils flared as he stared at the silken skin of his little boy's leg. He closed his eyes again and breathed deep, praying that Daniel would fall asleep already so he could finish his deed in the bathroom and be free of his torture. His mind wandered to the shower he had with Daniel the other day, and the rough patches he discovered on Daniel's buttcrack. It came back to him what those rough patches implied, when taken together with the cum stains he found on his pajama pants. Garrett immediately rejected the implication, renewing his search for an alternative explanation. It just couldn't be. He pondered the mystery, fixated, not noticing that Daniel had absent-mindedly started rubbing his dad's belly. "Daddy, what did grandpa mean, the other day? About men having needs?" Daniel suddenly asked. Garrett shot his eyes open to find that Daniel was now looking up at him. He was speechless for a moment as he stared at his son's face. His little boy's eyes were wide and innocent, awaiting his response. Against his will, flashed in his mind was the mental image of those same eyes looking up at him while the pink lips right below them were wrapped around his cock. "Daddy?" Daniel called out innocently. Garrett gulped then cleared his throat, shaking his head clear of the image. "Oh, uhm...don't worry about it, son. It's not for kids." Unsatisfied, Daniel pestered him for a better answer. Garrett eventually explained to Daniel about sex. At first he explained that sex was like a long hug between two people in love. But Daniel insinuated that the two of them were having sex because they loved each other and were hugging. Garrett chuckled at Daniel's erroneous conclusion. "Well, no, baby. This is not sex. You're just hugging me." "But you said that sex is when two people who love each other hug each other?" "Well, yes, but..." Garrett struggled to find the words. The subject made him hotter, and he was acutely aware that his arm was wrapped around another body. "...well...it's not just hugging. When two people have...s-sex, there's also kissing involved." "Like this?" Suddenly, Daniel pecked him on the cheek playfully. Garrett laughed nervously. "No, Danny. The kiss is a little bit longer than that, and it's on the lips." "Like this?" Daniel reached out to kiss him again, longer, and this time on the lips. Garrett's body froze as his little boy's pillowy lips met his. His cock pulsated at the touch, and his whole body stiffened in resistance. "Like that?" Daniel asked, pulling away. Garrett stared at his son's face, stunned. His mind erupted in war as a random thought suggested that his little boy---his beautiful little boy, with the silky skin and the tiny pink lips and the face that resembled his first love's---was the easy solution to the unrelenting frustrations of his day. He stared on, frightened and excited, as the million voices in his head deliberated his next move---without him. ----- If you liked this story, please consider supporting Nifty by visiting -----