Doing the Dirty

"Do you prefer dating a woman or doing the dirty with a guy?" my son asked me.

I know it's not a typical question for a nineteen-year-old lad to ask his dad but then Jake and I don't have what you might call a typical father-son relationship.

"I like the affection and companionship of a relationship with a woman," I replied. "But I think I'm starting to prefer sex with my own gender."

He smiled and nodded. I knew he was beginning to feel the same way himself, especially about a particular friend of his who he'd met at university.

"What is it about dude sex that you like so much?"

I had to suppress a snigger at 'dude sex'. It never ceases to amuse me how Jake avoids the word 'gay'.

"I suppose it's the sheer physicality of it," I responded. "The way that the guy you're with is out for the same thing you are... all the excitement, all the passion... the way there's no holding back..."

"Not to mention that you like having a dick up your butt!" Jake laughed, slugging the conversation into the gutter as he so often likes to do.

I smiled over at him. We were in our sitting room, having a few drinks before bedtime during one of Jake's occasional visits from uni. I was already on my second bottle of wine of the evening, while Jake had managed to work through a whole six pack of beer.

"I suppose there is that too," I admitted. "It's always fun to have the option of whose anatomy goes where!"

"When I'm with Ellie, I really miss that side of sex, actually," he agreed.

Ellie was his girlfriend, the main constant in his student bed among a succession of young men.

He went on, "I like making love with a girl - and all the boyfriend-girlfriend stuff me and Ellie get up to - but there's something really horny about shacking up with some random dude for a hump and a dump!"

"A hump and a dump?" I asked, wondering if it was some new scatological craze I hadn't heard of.

"Yeah, a hump on each other's backs," he grinned, "and a dump up each other's butts!"

I smiled over at him, taking a drink from my wine. We were being far more candid with each other than we would be if we were sober. We both knew we were saying more than we ordinarily would, but I thought it was healthy once in a while to be able to chat openly about such personal things without reticence or embarrassment.

"So essentially you mean gay sex!" I teased him, chuckling at his discomfort that I'd used the dreaded g-word.

"Do you miss it too?" he asked, not sharing my amusement. "When you're with Debbie, I mean?"

"Miss what?" I asked as I put down my glass. After downing the first bottle, I seemed to have lost a little of my focus.

"Miss having something up your butt? When you're with a woman?"

"Oh, yes... sometimes. It can feel a little... er... neglected, I suppose."

"When I'm with Ellie, these days," he went on with a conspiratorial smirk, "I get her to... well... use her finger on me while I'm... you know... doing my thing on top of her."

"Use her finger on you?" The drink must have made me especially dozy.

"Yeah... you know..." he grinned. "Reach round between my cheeks and work it up my butt!"

"Oh!" I responded. "That's very resourceful of you."

"It feels really nice, actually," he chuckled across at me. "You should try it."

"Doesn't Ellie mind?" I asked. From what I'd seen of her she seemed far to prim and proper to go poking around anywhere near my son's whiffy arse crack.

"She did at first," he nodded, taking a swig from his pint. "But I kind of went on and on about it. Kept telling her how important it was to me and how much I wanted to try it."

I nodded back, impressed by how persuasive he must be to tempt her to push her hand back there. Don't get me wrong - my son has a very attractive behind; I often find myself admiring how muscular his cheeks look, making two round bulges in the back of his jeans. I'm just under no illusions, from all the abundantly skidded underwear he brings home from uni, about what he's got down there lurking under the bonnet.

"Once she'd done it a couple of times," he continued, "and found it wasn't as messy as she'd thought, she started getting quite into it. Kind of got to like it."

I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows. "Did she indeed?"

This certainly was a turn up for the books! Sweet blushing Ellie was in the habit of treating my son to a brown-finger, was she? She clearly wasn't half as prissy as I'd assumed if she liked pressing her fingers into what his hairy crevice had left on the back of his boxers.

I asked him, "Didn't she query why you like having something up your bum during sex? Wasn't she... well... a bit concerned...?"

He chuckled indulgently as if that was such an 'old-school' question. I have such out of date ideas, you see, and I should count myself lucky that I have my son to keep me up to speed.

"She knows that dudes have a G-spot up their butts," he grinned. "I mean, she's not totally clueless!"

I smiled and nodded. "These modern girls, eh?"

"When she was used to it," he went on, jumping at the chance of educating his old dad, "she started asking to do it. She'd get me to bend over on all fours and she'd work at me with both hands... you know, one hand on the front with the other pumping away at the back...!"

He beamed triumphantly, no doubt hoping he'd shocked me.

I just laughed across at him at how daft he looked. I might have never had a girl do anything like that to me, but I'd done some stuff in my time that would probably make him blush.

"Imagine me asking Debbie to do that," I kept chuckling, after I'd taken another drink. "I think she'd throw up!"

My on-off girlfriend had made it blisteringly clear that my bum and hers were very much out of bounds during sex. She had a serious issue with smells and even my sweat could sometimes prove a deal-breaker in the bedroom.

"I've even got her to rim me when we've been like that," he added.

"Have you really?" Now I was genuinely surprised.

"Just occasionally," he smirked cheekily, clearly pleased to have elicited the reaction he'd been hoping for. "She has to be pretty drunk, mind!"

I nodded over at him, impressed that he'd manage to coax butter-wouldn't-melt Ellie to push her face into his stinky crack, even if he had had to ply her with alcohol beforehand.

"It's a bit of a fantasy of mine," he went on, "to have Ellie licking my butt while a guy out front slurps away at my dick. I think that would be so fucking hot!"

Wow - now we really were talking candidly.

He apologised for saying 'fucking' but I just shrugged like it didn't matter. Given everything else he'd said, it seemed somewhat precious to take issue with what was just a swearword.

It occurred to me - even after all the wine I'd downed - that I ought to manoeuvre our conversation away from such ribaldry. This was my son admitting some deeply personal things to me and, as the more adult of us, I should be mindful that we'd have to face each other across the breakfast table in the morning.

But this was an interesting chat to be having with Jake. And let's face it he was old enough to take responsibility for himself about the private things he was telling me.

So instead I kept the kettle boiling by asking, "Have you tried to engineer a situation to help bring that about?"

"You've gotta be really careful what you suggest with girls, haven't you? I mean, when you're with another guy you could mention a threesome or whatever and chances are he'd be up for it, but with a girl you've got to play it smart."

I nodded.

"The closest I got," he continued, "was at T in the Park last summer. There was this guy who'd lost his tent - or he said he had - and we offered for him to share ours. He was as camp as hell and I figured that in the darkness and with the three of us pushed up against each other, I might be able to wangle things so he'd blow me off while Ellie was tonguing my butt. Maybe push it even further and in the confusion pretend like I hadn't realised whose arse I was shagging! But in the end he was way more interested in copping off with Ellie - had his dick out and was trying to push it in her mouth - so I had to chuck him out."

"Couldn't you have worked with that?" I asked. "Pushed your face into his bum while she was sucking him off?"

He shook his head. "With Ellie - and probably with a lot of girls - you've got to be more subtle. She'd have seen sucking his dick as a betrayal of me, even if I was enjoying it. For her to be okay with having another guy join in with us, it would have to be a sort of 'accidental' thing like it would have been with all the fumbling and nudging if laddo had played ball."

I nodded, amused that he'd worked out possible scenarios.

"Come on then, dad," he urged me after downing another mouthful from his pint. "I've told you my fantasy - what's yours?"

I smiled. It wasn't really fair for him to ask me - I hadn't asked him to confess his secret desires - but I thought I'd play along. This was a fun conversation to be having with my son and, with any luck, after everything we'd drank the two of us would barely remember it in the morning.

I took a sip from my wine glass before admitting the scenario that had brought me much masturbatory pleasure over the previous year or so.

"Debbie and I go away for a weekend break with another couple. Maybe Dan and Eileen from work, but it can vary."

He smiled and nodded. We both knew it was implausible - I don't have friends I would do that sort of thing with - but sexual fantasies don't necessarily need to have any likelihood of actually happening.

"There's been a mix-up with the booking, and the four of us end up in one room."

Now he chuckled. He knew that old chestnut.

"For some reason - and, again, it can vary - the women have to share a bed while the two of us guys bunk up together."

"Why would you have to do that?" Jake asked, still smirking before downing another gobful from his beer. "There's got to be some rhyme and reason to it."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Maybe the second bed was one of those small pull-out futon things, and the women - being dainty and petite - would be more willing to use it."

"So the upshot is, you guys get to share the double bed?" Jake grinned.

"That's the general idea," I smiled back.

"So then what happens?" Jake asked, stifling a belch.

"Again, it can vary. But usually things start up in the middle of the night, with Dan and I rubbing up against each other in our sleep. He works his hard-on against my bum, or I do the same to his, and soon we're pulling our underwear off and kissing each other as we gradually wake up. We can't believe how much we're enjoying doing stuff together as two horny men, and then one of the women switches the light on so they can both see us squatting there, masturbating each other's erections on the bed."

"Nice," Jake laughed. "So does that put an end to it?"

"Of course not," I chuckled back. "That's only the start. It turns out the women are really turned on by what we're doing and encourage us to do more while they start... er... enjoying themselves together."

"Wow!" Jake grinned. "What do you guys do?"

"We go down on each other - maybe even work our faces lower down and lick underneath each other's balls - and all the time the women are getting hotter and more horny. They pull their nighties off and start fingering each other while they watch us two men exploring each other's bodies."

"You guys actually rim each other out in front of them?" with an eager expression.

"In some versions of the fantasy, yes," I smiled. "We get into an anal sixty-nine - you know, the two of us with our faces pressed into each other's bums - with the women calling out for us to lick the other guy's hairy crack and tongue his tight little arsehole so they can see it!"

"Oh, nice," Jake laughed. "Do you guys end up letting them see you butt-fucking?"

"Invariably yes," I smiled. "By then the women are all over each other - licking each other's breasts and giving each other head - while us men are roughly and passionately -"

I found I couldn't say 'fucking' even though Jake just had.

So instead I went on, "having full intercourse on the bed."

"Which way round?" he asked. "What does it for you?"

I smiled at his directness. If only I'd been so open and unashamed about sexual stuff at his age.

"We take turns on each other, which the women love. They both like seeing their men being penetrated by the other's big thick erection, so they keep calling out to us, urging us to keep swapping places for them."

"And you guys are well into each other?"

"We can't get enough of it," I laughed. "We're both horny as hell for each other's bums - feasting on each other's huge gaping holes between taking turns to frantically mount each other - but we love the feel of having the other guy inside us too. We're both sweating and calling out from the feel of having our arses filled by the other guy's thrusting hard-on."

"Always in a doggy position?" Jake asked.

"Oh yes," I agreed.

"And with the guy in front always hard?"

"Rock hard," I smiled. "Painfully so."

"That's the best," Jake nodded. "That position is always hot, no matter which two guys are drilling each other."

"In my fantasy, the women reach their orgasms first," I continued, "before the two of us men take our cue and finish ourselves off. Usually I like to imagine the other man discharging himself up inside me just as I'm climaxing from his hand. The women obviously love to see their men achieving release together - they cheer us on while we're both gasping and panting."

Jake laughed loudly and energetically, and for a second I thought he was going to burst into applause.

"That's steaming, that is!" he called out. "It's well hot!"

While he was still eagerly grinning over at me, I suddenly noticed that the crotch of his jeans was tenting prominently upwards. My son made no attempt to hide his bulge, not even by crossing his legs, and the large size he'd inherited from me made its state of excitement unmistakable.

He saw me looking at it and smirked more broadly. Jake treated his erections like he treats his farts: parading them flagrantly and with forthright amusement.

"You obviously enjoyed that scenario," I observed.

"Yeah, it's a lot better than the bedtime stories you used to tell me when I was a kid!"

I chuckled and he added, "I bet this one'll get me to sleep pretty quickly tonight!"

I realised what he meant and I couldn't help but blush. That probably seems silly after the vulgarity of what I'd just told him, but the thought that my son was about to use an image of me having sex with another man as a masturbatory aid came as a bit of a surprise.

He saw my reaction and said, "Oh come on, dad! It was a really horny story - of course it turned me on!"

"I know that... it's just... you know how I get, Jake."

"Did my story not turn you on? The threesome in the tent...?"

"Not really, no. But I admit the thought of you picking up a guy at a music festival to share your tent is somewhat intriguing."

"Okay," he grinned, the large mound next to the fly of his jeans showing no signs of lessening. "I'll tell you another fantasy of mine. I reckon you'll like this one."

I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. "It's after one, Jake. We should be getting to bed."

"It won't take long," he insisted. "And it's not like we have to be up in the morning."

"Okay, then," I smiled. "But you'll have to top my glass up first."

He chuckled and pushed himself up out of the armchair. He was a tall lad now: somewhere over six two. He'd been gangly a few years ago but was filling out nicely. He worked out when he could be arsed, which wasn't that often, but his musculature seemed to be coming through naturally. Presumably he'd inherited that from his mother's side because I'd never shown any tendency towards muscle.

As he filled up our drinks, I wondered again if I ought to draw this to a close. Sharing our bisexual fantasies was interesting but perhaps our conversation was crossing a line. I was sure we wouldn't be talking together like this if we were both straight, or indeed if only one of us enjoyed sex with our own gender, but since we'd simultaneously discovered our willingness to gender hop, it seemed natural for us to want to share our experiences.

Still, Jake was my son and I should be more careful of what I say to him. He might enjoy exchanging stories and fantasies with me - his jeans had shown just how much - but I was his dad when all said and done and it was right and proper that I should maintain a certain level of paternal detachment.

Jake strolled back into the room with our drinks and, before I could tell him I was moving the topic of conversation on, said, "Okay so there was this day when Marcus and I had been at it all morning and then like five minutes after we'd finished, Ellie turns up."

Now this was intriguing: I loved hearing stories about his friend Marcus. The two of them were regular fuck-buddies and enjoyed an intensity to their relationship which I often thought rivalled that of he and his girlfriend.

He passed me my wine and plonked himself back down in the armchair.

"Our butts were full of each other's cum. I only tell you that because it's relevant."

"Okay," I said, readily abandoning my intention to draw the conversation to a close. "I take it Ellie still doesn't know about what you guys get up to?"

"Naah, she'd do her nut!" he grinned. "When she turns up at my room after he's stayed over with me, she usually says the rooms stinks of farts, like the two of us have spent all night queefing off. She has no idea that she's smelling our butt sex and the stinkier it is, the more times we've been at it!"

I chuckled over at him, admiring his deceit instead of being disapproving of it as I knew I should be.

"So, this day I'm talking about, she turns up and says, right out of the blue, that she fancies a shag. Normally I'd be well up for that - she normally plays hard to get so the way she was coming onto me would have ordinarily turned me on - but after going at it with Marcus all morning and shooting up his arse two or three times, I wasn't really in the mood."

He took a gulp from his drink before carrying on.

"She won't take no for an answer and starts suggesting things which she hopes will get me going. In the end I agree to do the thing I told you about earlier - bend down on all fours on the bed so she can use both hands on me."

"Is this your fantasy?" I asked. "Or did this really happen?"

"This first part really happened," he nodded. "The fantasy part is how I wish things had turned out."

"Okay," I smiled, gesturing for him to continue.

"She starts playing with my floppy - I really wasn't in the mood - and then when she looks at my butt she says, 'Bloody hell, Jake. Your arsehole's massive and it's sticking right out!'"

"Oops," I grinned. Been there, done that.

"I'm like, 'It's okay, Ell, it's just a bit sore,' but then when she goes to finger it, a load of Marcus' spunk comes trickling out."

"Oh no!" I called over, covering my mouth to hide my smile.

"She says, 'Oh God, that's fucking disgusting that is! What the hell have you been doing?' And I'm like, 'Oh fuck I'm so sorry! I've been really sore back there and I put some lotion up it.'"

"Did she buy that?"

"Yeah, though God knows how. I guess she thought that arse cream must look and smell like spunk."

I chuckled. "What did she do?"

"Needless to say, it kind of spoiled the moment. She went off to wash her hands and when she came back she didn't say anything more about us doing anything."

"So what's the fantasy?"

"Well this is where it gets a bit weird."

I smiled over at him. "And my fantasy wasn't?"

"Not like this. A few days later, I was bored in the library trying to finish an assignment."