// This story is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in it are 18+ of age.
// As usual, I'm very happy to receive any and all feedbacks, whether it's about the writing or direction of the story, other works you wanna see, or just chat in general. Thank you for reading!
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After our morning talk which ended in me giving him a blowjob and kissing him while my face was covered with his cum, Dad left to get us some food. He ended up getting some burger combos from a nearby local joint. Before he came back, I had relaxed a bit in my bed, then got up, changed into a pair of jeans with a black polo shirt and put on a pair of white socks, and cleaned up a bit, changing the bed sheets and collecting our clothes which were blotted with cum. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I saw the juicy double cheeseburgers and fresh french fries with the ice-cold sodas filling the kitchen counter. We sat down at the small table we used to eat in the kitchen and dug in while casually chatting away.
Still spent after last night's and this morning's activities, we both opted for mundane topics at first. He tried to start a conversation by asking about the weather but it quickly died away, so I asked Dad what type of work he did while he was away. Dad was happy to talk about his life abroad, going into details about his work and the country. Apparently, the capital was very sophisticated by African standards, and it was quite a nice urban area, but sadly, that wasn't where Dad was based. Instead, he was stationed in a rural area, where his job was to be the assistant manager of a factory there. He was able to go and enjoy himself in the capital from time to time, but it wasn't that frequent of an occurrence. And while his title was assistant manager, Dad technically did most of the work looking after the factory while the actual manager dropped in about twice a week to check in and make sure everything was correct. It wasn't like he was being overworked or like the manager was slacking, Dad said, it was exactly what they hired him to do, and they told him that much when they did. Running a foreign factory like that, especially in a rural country, was a very time-consuming job from what I understood. The company needed someone to keep an eye on the workers and business partners or else things could easily devolve into chaos, he said.
"So you were, like, working 24/7? Did you not get any time off at all?" I asked, imagining such conditions would be very excruciating.
"No, we had plenty of time off all things considered," he explained "It's just that there was really nothing to do during it."
"So how did you spend it?"
"You could go outside around the property, or to close parks or open areas, but there wasn't much to do even there. I had a computer set up, but nothing half as fancy as the base you got going on upstairs. I mostly used it to watch movies and keep up with the news. Also, obviously, talk to your Mom."
Hearing that Dad liked watching movies made my ears perk up seeing as I enjoyed that as well. But his words made me think of something more important.
"So..." I knitted my brows "Why did you stay there all this time?"
I heard from my Mom when I was younger that Dad's job was what kept them afloat after I was born. But by the time I turned 6, Mom had gotten a good-paying job and was doing okay on her own. At least, that's what she told me. It was part of the reason I never really thought about my Dad all this time. Since his stay overseas wasn't necessary anymore, I guess I assumed his absence was due to being a deadbeat. But looking at him now, I started wondering what the real reason was.
He took a sip from his soda before continuing. "Well, for starters, the money was good. It was a very sweet deal for me at the time."
He paused for a second, going over accounts he had closed ages ago in his head while taking another sip of soda, then continued "The contract got renewed every year, and every year, they persuaded me to continue. You see, it's not easy to find a guy for this kind of job who they can trust as well, so whenever I tried to leave, they'd give me more benefits and bigger pay and extra luxuries. Their offers were always generous."
It was my turn to drink soda as I contemplated his words "So just for the money?" I inquired.
"Money wasn't the only reason. It was the combination of things," He resumed picking up his fries.
"Like?" I honestly didn't wanna push him, but I was indeed curious. It was probably our first real (normal) conversation and I was finding out how much I didn't know about this man. As I said before, I wasn't one to lie to myself, and when confronted with the fact I might have made some wrong assumptions about his, and by extension our family's, situation, I couldn't shy away from the truth. That's why, despite him seemingly avoiding the subject, I asked anyway. He stopped eating and looked at me, or maybe he was looking through me, at something way beyond. He stayed like that for a bit.
I was fine with him not wanting to talk about it. We were still just figuring out our relationship. It started out cold, and yesterday it was ignited in a very messy way. Yet, it still got ignited. And from the resulting fire, I sensed a warmth my body and soul longed for. I wanted to care for this relationship, at least for now. I wanted to see what it can grow into. And so I made my decision to not hound my Dad. He might be honest and hardheaded, and I might not have warmed up to him entirely just yet, but even he had stuff going on that I couldn't just trample over.
All that said, Dad still answered my question.
"We had some troubles," he finally said "Me and your Mom,"
"Huh..." I made a simple noise. I had let go completely of my food at this point. I wasn't shocked, neither was I underwhelmed. When he said it out loud, it kind of made sense considering everything. It was indeed weird he never showed up all these years, no matter how demanding his job was. He could have come back for a visit or two. Hell, he didn't even write or text or e-mail. Yes, I never tried to either, but you'd think the parent would want to initiate the relationship with his child, no? Either way, I had made my decision to be patient, and that was what I did. I stayed silent and waited for him to continue.
"Things back then were complicated for us," he went on "I made a choice, I thought it's for the best back then."
I didn't dare move an inch. It's happening again. This was a part of him I've never seen before, much like when we first made love, or when he opened up to me this morning. Getting to know more about Dad turned out to be more important to me than I realized, and I was hanging on to his every word.
"At first things went relatively well. Working and adjusting to a new country took up all of my time and allowed me to not think about the situation back home. The money I sent was more than enough for your Mom to take care of herself and you. Everything was okay for a while."
The story was obviously missing some key details, but I followed along either way. Dad looked dazed as if he was far away. It was a rare sight to see him unfocused like that, lost in his memories.
"But as time went by, months became years, and before I knew it you were all grown up and your Mom reached out to me again. I was confused at first, but that call made me wake up to the fact I was the one stopping myself from returning at that point. Change is never easy after all." Another minute of silence followed before he finished his speech.
"Still, I finally gathered the willpower to do it, and I'm glad I did. I got to see my big boy after all," He said, his eyes regaining their glow as they looked at me. Once again, the warmth, the longing he exuded towards me, reached me loud and clear, and once again, I found myself drawn to it.
"Dad," I reached out my hand and grabbed his. With a bit of hesitation, I spoke. "I'm... glad that you're back at least..."
It was annoying. After all, I couldn't stay mad at him. Before, I was able to chalk up his absence to as many imaginary cartoonishly bad reasons as I wanted. The wild baseless thoughts my younger self had grew into convictions with time, and there wasn't anyone around to correct them. I realized now I was way too aggressive and harsh when dealing with him. While our personalities certainly clashed, the main reason our relationship tripped before it even started was the festering miscommunication or lack thereof. As for Dad, whatever sent him halfway across the globe had also pushed him to distance himself from us. I was honestly dying to know what really happened back then, but I knew better than to push it at that point.
