Cucked By My Dad Ch 03

Well, it's official. High school has come and gone and I'm STILL a virgin.

Even my friend Gibby lost her virginity! And she's hideous!

Okay, maybe not hideous, but still. We swore we would be deflowered by the time we graduated, and I can't believe that bucktoothed Gibby Berkman managed to make good while I didn't.

It's not her fault, though. She's not the one who slipped in and fucked both my boyfriend AND the high school quarterback before I could have a chance to. That honor would belong to my father, Jud. He's like a walking sex machine. Ever since I can remember, my friends would beg to come over after school just so they could get a chance to run into him. I used to think I was popular, but then my dad would walk in the room and it was like I didn't exist. Previously, he would just smile and ignore the attention, but ever since I turned 18, it's like he's been actively cock blocking me!

First, there was my boyfriend, Kevin. Hot, actor, scruff that you could just die for. What does Dad do? He fucks him up the ass. And at a family dinner, no less! Then there was the school quarterback, a meathead named Brock who used to let me suck his dick after school. I'm this close to sealing the deal, when what happens? Dad swoops in and fucks him AGAIN.

If I'm being honest, I can't really blame them, either. Dad's always been attractive--hairy and muscular with a little bit of a dad bod. And since he loves walking around the house in tighty whities, I know he's hung, too. I'm sure if he were someone else's dad I'd be all over him. But no, I'm just left with the thankless task of being his son--the second fiddle to his Don Juan.

Now that I had officially graduated, it seemed I was all but destined to go to college with my virginity still intact. And to top it all off, Dad and I were stuck with each other for a week on this stupid church mission trip.

My family and I go to one of those modern-day evangelical megachurches where you have like seven pastors and no one can really tell what any of them do. Pastor Carl was the one who organized the mission trips, where a group of college kids would go to some church in North Carolina to do community service for a week. Dad volunteered as a chaperone, although I'm pretty sure he was just doing it to keep an eye on me since it was my first time going. At this point, I wouldn't have put it past him to put one of those 17th-century chastity belts on me and call it a day. But it's not like he needed to bother--how was I possibly going to get laid when I was stuck all week doing manual labor with a bunch of Christian college kids?

Even on the way to North Carolina, as I sat at the back of the bus listening to Taylor Swift and eyeing the other boys for potential virginity-takers, I knew my chances were slim.

There was Levi, a rising second year and Messianic Jew I'd known since childhood. He was hot, for sure--buzzed brown hair, a gorgeous, statuesque nose, and a killer smile--but he was 100% straight and annoyingly kind. He'd been the first one to congratulate me when I came out, and he'd always come to my defense whenever someone raised an issue with my being gay. His heterosexuality was the one thing that kept me from fully believing in a loving, compassionate God.

Then there was the rising third year, Todd: thin, lanky, and aggressively heterosexual. He was kind of cute in that sinewy Pete Davidson kind of way. But his sexual misdeeds were an open secret, as even I knew that his rich parents had paid for at least three girls to get out of "trouble." He sat two rows in front of me, secretly watching Twitter porn on his phone and shooting nervous looks whenever anyone walked past in the aisle.

There was the rising fourth year, Elijah: a short, kind of beefy redhead with a boy-next-door haircut and pouty lips that would look perfect on my pink purse. But he was the least likely of all my suitors--practically married to Jesus already, he never went anywhere without his cross necklace and Bible. Even now he was nose-deep in it when he should have been nose-deep in something much softer and wetter.

(I mean my pussy. Just in case you were wondering.)

The rest of the college kids on the mission trip were all girls, so there was no chance there. No, it seemed as though the next week of my life was destined to remain as virginal as the last 18 years of my life.

Then Pastor Carl sat down next to me.

"Hey Leo," he said casually. He gave me that classic straight guy nod, like one of those old guys who's just "one of the kids."

In Pastor Carl's case, however, he kind of was. This man was not your average pastor: slicked-back hair, muscular arms covered with tattoos, always wearing his signature beanie and oversized Jeffrey Dahmer glasses. He still wore skinny jeans, which was somehow hot and not offputting based on his age and the fact that it wasn't 2008. He was like 35 or so, which was practically ancient as far as I was concerned but still young enough to seem relevant. We all really liked him because he would always talk frankly with us about stuff like drinking or smoking pot.

He was also really fucking hot.

Pastor Carl sighed, stretching his legs out in the narrow space. "I love these trips," he said, gazing out the window for a moment. "Being of service... it gives me a chance to reflect, you know? Unplug from the world, get out of the usual routine."

I shrugged. "I guess."

He narrowed his eyes. "You don't sound too excited."

"As excited as I can be about manual labor."

He laughed. "I hear you. God's work isn't always glamorous, but we'll make sure to have some fun too." He winked at me.

I found myself blushing. Did he mean it like I thought he did? No, that was ridiculous. The man was married, and besides, he was totally Christian. Sure, he had big biceps and he smelled like sandalwood and musk. And yes, I had pictured myself sucking on his foreskin like any red-blooded American twink would. But that was a fantasy, right?

"Tell me, what's one thing you're looking forward to this week?" he asked.

"I guess the camping trip at Lake Laurie next weekend."

He smiled. "That's my favorite part too. It'll be good to relax after a week of doing God's work. Lay out in the sun, get that tan going..."

He stretched his arms up high, causing his shirt to ride up a little. I glanced down to see a treasure trail leading underneath his jeans. Fuck.

When I looked up, he was smiling at me.

"So, Leo." His voice was low now, and he leaned in like we were sharing a secret. "You dating anyone? Got a girlfriend or... boyfriend, maybe?"

I swallowed. Pastor Carl knew very well I was gay--the whole church did. Not that he and I had ever talked about it. But based on the way this conversation was going, perhaps we should have!

"N-no," I said, caught off guard. I took a moment to collect myself then turned toward him, crossing my legs and batting my eyes. "I mean, I had a boyfriend for a little while, but... it didn't work out."

He smiled. "I just wanna say I think you're really brave. Living in your truth like that."

I smiled shyly. "Thanks. It's just who I am, I guess. God just... showed me what I wanted. Who am I to say no to that?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He put a hand to his chest. "I mean, I personally don't agree with the lifestyle, but that doesn't mean I don't respect you for being yourself. Hate the sin, love the sinner, right?"

I giggled, brushing back my brown curls. "You're so right, Pastor Carl."

He leaned in closer, his cologne wafting into my nose like the smell of Brock's sweaty balls after football practice. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that temptation is everywhere. I'm a happily married man, but that doesn't mean God doesn't put my faith to the test every day. It's tough, especially when there's so much out there to want. You know what I'm saying?"

I touched his bicep, giving it a subtle squeeze. "I know exactly what you mean."

He smiled, and I was almost entirely sure that he was flexing his arm for me. But before anything else could happen, I spotted my father lumbering down the aisle toward me. I took my hand away from the pastor's arm and leaned back in my seat.

"Thanks for the talk, Pastor Carl," I said.

He patted my leg. "Anytime."

He got up and passed my father in the aisle, greeting him with a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder. Dad sat down next to me, his heft taking up the whole seat and then some.

"How you doing, son? I hope you're talking to the other kids, not just isolating back here and listening to Taylor Swift."

My face reddened. "I'm fine, Dad. I don't need you looking out for me this week, okay? I can handle myself."

My dad grunted. "Sure you can. I just thought maybe we could bond a little this week, father and son. How's that sound?"

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm serious," he said. "Your mom was devastated she couldn't come on the trip, you know how much she loves home renovation. If she hadn't caught that damn African sleeping sickness, it would be the three of us on a Wyte family adventure. But you and I can still have fun, right?"

He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. I avoided his gaze--I was still pretty peeved about him cucking me and I didn't want him to think we were too chummy.

"Well, Leo? What do you say?"

I spotted Pastor Carl sitting toward the front of the bus. He caught my eye and winked at me.

"Sure, Dad. That sounds like fun."

I spent the rest of the bus ride brainstorming ways to seduce the pastor. I could come on strong, find some excuse to be alone with him and just drop trou. But I wasn't entirely certain he wanted to fuck me, and I didn't want to run the risk that he'd freak and tell my dad. If I was going to seduce him, I had to be cautious and feel him out. Plus with my dad on the trip, I had to take extra care not to let him know my intentions. After what happened with Kevin and Brock, I didn't trust him to be within ten feet of Pastor Carl. Luckily, my dad tended to think with his dick instead of his brain, so I knew a little creative maneuvering could help me throw him off the scent.

All I needed to do was make Dad think I was interested in one of the other college boys, then I'd be free to pursue Pastor Carl while Dad was distracted. But who to pick? Levi wouldn't work--he was too good of a friend and I didn't want to fuck that up. Todd was hot enough, and he certainly had the sex drive I was looking for, but my dad would never buy it. That just left...

"Hey, Elijah!" I said cheerily when we got off the bus.

He turned to look at me, those pouty red lips parted in an "o" of surprise. "Oh... hey Leo. How's it going?"

"Oh, you know. It's going." I dragged my bag behind me, making a show of how heavy it was.

"Are you having trouble?" he asked, eyeing my bag.

I put my hand on my cheek, feigning embarrassment. "Oh gosh. You must think I'm such a wimp. I thought I'd packed light, but..." I looked down at his beefy chest. "I guess I'm just not as strong and manly as you are."

He swallowed. "Uh, I could carry it for you if you wanted."

My eyes lit up. "Really? Oh, thank you so much! You're such a gentleman."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek, then dropped the bag on the ground with a big thud.

He picked it up and hefted it over his shoulder, his cross necklace swinging against his chest with the effort. I saw my father watching me warily, his jaw clenched tightly. I gave him a little wave and skipped along into the church.

We were staying at some old Baptist church in North Carolina, a great big building that sat empty during the week when it wasn't Sunday. This would be our lodging until Friday when we would set off for Lake Laurie and camp until Sunday morning. The boys were staying in one of the preschool classrooms at the far end of the church, while the girls were staying in the parlor off of the sanctuary. As the male chaperone, my father would be staying with us, while the female chaperone would stay with the girls. Since my mother couldn't come, the female chaperone was Mrs. Turnbright, Elijah's mother. She was a cold, stern woman, and I could tell she didn't think much of me after I came out of the closet. Well, her opinion of me was about to get a whole lot worse!

"Come pull your sleeping bag next to me, Elijah," I said, patting the spot beside me.

He shot a look at Todd, then set his bag down on the floor next to mine.

"I just wanted to say, I really admire your faith," I said, shaking my head in what I hoped was warm admiration. "You're the only guy I know who really practices what you preach."

He smiled, fingering his cross necklace. "Yeah."

"I would love to pick your brain about a few things this week," I said. "Like, what's the deal with Job? God kept doing all that shit to him and he just took it. Was he stupid?"

We were interrupted by Todd, who dropped his sleeping bag next to Elijah's. "Yo, you guys ready to get lit this week or what?" He unzipped his bag to show a small liter of vodka. "When the old folks go to sleep, I say we meet in the sanctuary. Bring the girls, get a little frisky. What do you say?"

Elijah frowned. "I don't think so. We're staying at a church. That feels... kinda wrong."

Todd zipped his bag and blew a raspberry. "Boo. You guys are boring. I'm sure Levi's with me, right dude?"

Levi was currently rifling through his bag. "Don't bring me into this, man."

Todd made a tsking sound. "Whatever. Y'all are just mad 'cause I'm the only one getting pussy."

His eyes snapped up to the door when my dad entered, lugging a large duffel bag and an extra large sleeping bag. "Listen up, boys," he said, swinging the door shut behind him. "I know you're all adults, but when you're under our roof, you abide by our rules. That means I don't wanna see any purpling this week, you hear?"

Todd frowned. "Purpling?"

Dad grunted. "Boys are blue, girls are red. They don't mix. We clear?"

The boys all nodded. Little did Dad know, however, that I intended to make a deep, dark shade of indigo.

The next day, they got us up at dawn to eat breakfast before heading out to work for the day. I made sure to slide in next to Elijah, chatting him up and laughing at all of his jokes (at least, I think they were jokes. It's hard to tell with him). It didn't seem to matter, as Dad kept glancing over at us.

Perfect. He was biting.

After breakfast, we piled into the rental vans. Dad pulled Elijah aside, saying, "Why don't you ride in my van, son?" He put his arm around Elijah and rustled his hair. "I'd love to pick your brain about how the Bulldogs are doing this season."

I stifled a smirk. Man, Dad was gullible. I hopped into the front seat of the other van, right beside Pastor Carl. The scent of his cologne was even stronger in the confined space, and I had to remind myself to breathe normally.

"Where are we going, today?" I asked.

"There's a little old lady from the church who needs help cleaning out her basement. You ready for some heavy lifting?"

I pouted, leaning back. "I'm no good at all that. I've tried going to the gym but I just can't get big. Not like you, Pastor Carl."

He chuckled, his fingers drumming the wheel. "It just takes time. You've got the frame for it, though. Don't give up too soon."

I blinked, playing it up. "You really think so?" I pulled my legs up onto the seat, tucking them sideways. His eyes lingered, just for a second, on my thighs, smooth and pale against the dark interior.

"Definitely," he said, his voice a little lower than before.

When we got there, an old lady with a bright smile was waiting for us outside the house.

"Oh, thank you all so much!" she said. "I don't get down to the basement anymore, not since my husband passed."

Pastor Carl clasped her hands gently, all warmth. "It's our pleasure, Magdalene. We're here to help."

It may have been his pleasure, but it certainly was not mine. The basement was dank and mildewy and smelled like shit. Everything was caked in a layer of mold and I nearly gagged having to carry this shit outside. The only thing that kept me going was that Pastor Carl was wearing a tank top, which showed off his ridiculously buff and tan shoulders. His shirt left little to the imagination, revealing flexing muscles and more tattoos than I'd ever seen before. They crept underneath his shirt, invoking my curiosity. I donned a face mask and a pair of gloves, tried to breathe through my mouth, and concentrated on what it would be like to get in the pastor's pants.

We worked for hours, breaking only for lunch. By the time we got home, I was so exhausted I could barely make it through dinner. I made a half-hearted attempt to flirt with Elijah a bit then crawled into my sleeping bag and passed out.

The next day we went to a different house out in the country. This time some single mother needed us to paint a nursery, which required at least four coats of paint to cover up the hideous shade of burgundy underneath. It was another scorcher of a day and the lady was so poor she didn't even have AC (ugh), so I was absolutely drenched by the time lunch came around.

We ate prepackaged sandwiches and chips at a picnic table in the backyard. Dad had already planted himself beside Elijah, so I sat down next to the pastor and opened my sandwich. The afternoon heat clung to him and I wondered what his balls must smell like.

"You did real good this morning, Leo," he said, taking a big bite of his sandwich.

I shrugged. "Thanks. Like you said, it's good to help out."

"I know you said you had trouble growing muscle, but I think you look pretty good." He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. "You're growing into a pretty strong man."

"Thanks," I said, my voice cracking.

He wiped his hands and stood up. "Why don't you take a walk with me?" He beckoned me with a casual nod, but there was something in his eyes that made my pussy throb.

My dad was deep in a conversation with Elijah, so I stood and followed him into the woods behind the house. The sun filtered through the trees, casting patches of light on the dirt path. We walked in silence for a while until we couldn't see anyone else. It was hot and I was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, but I wouldn't have been anywhere else.

"It must be nice having your dad on this trip," Pastor Carl said after a while, glancing over at me.

I snorted. "If by 'nice' you mean 'annoying.'"

"I'm sure it's tough for him, you going off to college so soon."

I frowned. "It's more than that. He's too... protective, you know? Like he doesn't want me to have a life, let alone a boyfriend."

He raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at me. "Why do you think that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. He just has a habit of getting up in my business, let's say."

We walked a little further, the air thick with humidity. Pastor Carl had his hands tucked behind his back, his shoulders flexing. They were covered in a thin sheen of sweat. God, I wanted to lick it off him so bad.

"So," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "I know you said you don't have a boyfriend, but do you have anyone special in your life right now?"

I shook my head.

"Really?" he said, his tone surprised. "A good-looking guy like you... I figure you'd have your pick of admirers."

I felt my cheeks heat up. "I guess. I don't know, boys are complicated."

Pastor Carl chuckled, his eyes never leaving me. "Yes, they are. Mind if I ask? What kind of guys do you like?"

I stopped walking. My throat tightened, but I met his gaze, my voice soft. "Lots of kinds. I've always liked a man's man, you know? Someone with muscles... someone strong."

His smile was lazy, almost teasing. "Yeah? You like the athletic type?"

I nodded.

"Guys like Elijah?" His tone was teasing, but there was a sharpness to it as well.

"No, no not at all," I said firmly.