Meeting Dad for the First Time

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains incest.

***

Growing up a bastard is never easy. For me it meant jealousy of the boys whose dads came to baseball games. It meant a single mom who dated douchebag after douchebag, each one weaseling their way into our home and infecting us with their rot. It meant not knowing my past, my lineage, my history. Not knowing my place in the world.

I remained stoic for 22 long years but something inside me was breaking. It didn't help that college graduation was close and I still didn't know what to do with myself. One thing was sure though, I couldn't go back home.

My mom had recently married a guy who didn't want me around. With her pregnant, he wanted to start a new family sans me. My poor mother had always struggled and was just happy to finally be with someone who could provide for her. She was only 40, she had so much life ahead of her. I couldn't blame her, but still... I was her son.....

My stress and anxiety were ratcheting higher each day. I was angry at the world, at everyone, but at the same time shrinking inside myself. Lost, afraid, helpless, alone, I longed so desperately for my dad, whoever he may be. To have him comfort me, guide me, pat me on the back and say everything would be okay. I felt like only he could save me from this drowning depression, and though I knew he probably wouldn't, I had to try.

The only thing I knew about my dad was that he was a one-night stand. To her embarrassment and my discomfort, my mother couldn't even remember his name. "It could've been any of those degenerates," my grandma would say with disgust.

I guess my mom used to be a "cocktail waitress" at a biker bar and had been around the block. I try not to think about that and instead imagine my father as a professional athlete who came through town, or a successful doctor who had an untimely death. None of the hypotheticals are perfect, but they protect me from the likely reality.

I'd tried searching for him on the internet a few times but it was useless. I had no information and prayed he'd just magically appear. But with time came scientific advancement, and one day I heard something that really piqued my interest. My history professor showed us a new website that used DNA testing to create family trees. He laughed that in this era of modern genealogy, many people were inadvertently outing their relatives' secret families. But that's exactly what I wanted to hear.

That night I ordered the kit that would hopefully reveal my past. The 3 day delivery period was unbearable, the wait for results even worse, but when the email came laying out my ancestry it turned out to be the best decision I ever made.

I knew my mother was Irish Catholic, but without this site I'd never have known I'm also 50% Italian! Adrenaline surged as I finally got to learn things about myself that most people take for granted. It meant so much to understand what I was made of, where I was from. It explained some of the differences between me and my mother, like my olive skin and lighter hair. As I reveled in my history, a follow up email arrived that truly rocked my world.

YOU HAVE A MATCH!

I instantly clicked it and entered the portal to find my relative. I was slightly disappointed to see she was female, but it was better than nothing! The website said she was from my Italian side so I eagerly began typing.

"Hey stranger! I hope this isn't weird but I saw you're a "possible cousin" and wanted to introduce myself. I'm Liam O'Connell, a 22 year old from Gary, Indiana who, to be blunt, is looking for his dad. I hope it's not asking too much, but I would love to know if you have any male relatives that might've been in the Gary area in 1992. It's a shot in the dark, but before today I didn't even know I was half-Italian so this is already fantastic news! Let me know if you'd like to chat on the phone or anything. Have a nice day!

Your relative,

Liam"

I hoped it wasn't too blunt but I needed answers, dammit! I checked my phone constantly during the three hours it took her to reply. Finally a "...":

"OH MY GOD HEY! Just read your message and I'm so happy to meet you!! I'm Julia De Luca, a 26 year old from Pittsburgh. I can't believe I have a cousin I didn't know about, this is so crazy!!!! Thank god we're not siblings LOL! That would've been drama!!

To answer your question, I think the man you're looking for is Salvatore De Luca. He's my dad's half-brother and I know he used to live in Indiana. I think he's outside Columbus now but I haven't talked to him in years.

Let me know if there's anything I can do to help. Here's my number if you want to chat....

Your cousin,

Julia"

I cried through the whole message. Even though I couldn't be sure he was my dad, in one day I learned more about my lineage than ever before.

"Salvatore De Luca. Salvatore De Luca. Salvatore De Luca."

I rolled his name off my tongue repeatedly, accenting different vowels as I wondered how he might pronounce it. Salvatoray? Salvator? When I googled it I got my answer:

"Sal's Auto body"

Sal..... That's my dad: Sal. I couldn't stop smiling. Finally I had a name, someone to look for! There were no pictures of him online but that didn't matter. I was determined to find him myself.

Too excited to think, I packed a bag and ran to my car. My heart pounded as I pulled out of the driveway and sped east towards Ohio. Questions flew through my head. Does this man already have a family? Will this ruin his life? I briefly got second thoughts but realized I would just have to approach this carefully. Even if we didn't talk, I was dead set on seeing the man I believed was my father.

I drove faster, faster, getting there in record speed. It was 2AM so I checked into a motel, figuring I could ditch Friday class, hang out around town, then go to his car shop right before closing, for his discretion.

That evening I thought I was gonna puke. My tongue was heavy and my stomach in knots as I drove towards his shop, and at every light I considered turning back. What if this didn't solve anything? Then what? That was my biggest fear. That I would go back to my shitty life, but no longer with the hope of a dad to save me. Tears flowed but I couldn't stop now. I gripped the wheel and drove faster until I saw the sign.

"Oh my god... Oh my god!"

I looked in my side mirror: "Sal's Auto Body." Fuck! This was too real. My hand shook as I opened the door and I could barely stand. Stumbling towards the garage I must've looked like a freshly bitten zombie.

It was 6PM and no one was around. There were a few cars being worked on but more prominent were the rows and rows of motorcycles. Holy shit... It really might be him! I stepped forward again, towards the clanking echoing out from a popped hood. I spied a man bent over and had to see his face.

Chest pounding, I let out a weak, "H-hello....."

The man grumbled, "damn..." then, "sorry, we're closed!"

"N-no.... I-I-"

He pulled away from the car and stood up tall. "Like I said kid, we're closed."

I nearly lost my voice. "A-are you Salvatore De Luca...?"

As I looked him up and down I'd never felt more emotional. I saw his blue eyes, his dirty blonde hair. His tanned skin, his strong Roman nose and butt chin. I saw so many of my own features that didn't resemble my maternal side. I'd always felt like a tan sheep among Black Irish, but this was my lineage!

"Yeah," he answered coolly, his voice strong and deep. It vibrated through me like a drum. "Uh, kid.... Are you okay?"

Tears welled in my eyes as I whispered, "I.... I think you're my dad....."

"Huh? What?"

"I think," he was scanning me rapidly, his brain performing some sort of primal algorithm to determine if this could be true, if I could be his offspring. By the time I finished he'd already come to the conclusion.

"I'm your dad...."

We looked at each other in a way I'd never shared with anyone. It was raw, spiritual, animalistic, a feeling deeply connected to our planet and its history. Our emotions were so pure, a parent seeing their child for the first time. We recognized each other innately, knew we were kin.

We walked slowly inward, taking in every detail--creator and spawn. When we finally reached the middle there was no question but to embrace in the warmest, most emotional, cathartic, tension-releasing hug you can imagine. The decades of pain, hopelessness, anger and frustration were instantly lifted off of my shoulders. My strong dad was now here to help bear the burden of my emotional baggage. I was too weak to stand but he supported me, wrapping his big, hairy arms tighter as I tucked my hands in to get even closer.

"My son...." He whispered repeatedly. "My son......"

I'm not lying when I say this hug lasted more than 10 minutes. We stood there rocking back and forth, my slim body totally encased in his muscular chest and arms. I'd always been tall and willowy but my dad was built. His paternal strength radiated as he held me and I'd never been so comfortable. I was overwhelmed emotionally but my dad rubbed my back and said everything would be okay.

"I got you, son. Daddy's got you..."

I cried harder when I finally got to hear those special words. My wet face was buried into his prickly neck and the poking sensation was exquisite. I pushed my smooth cheek deeper into his beard and my father reciprocated, nuzzling his chin around my face. Soon we were like two cats, rubbing our foreheads, noses, cheeks. We wanted to feel every inch of each other, form the sacred bond of which we'd been deprived.

My hands rested on his chest and I could feel strong pecs under his greasy athletic polo. I rubbed them slowly, felt the strength of the man who created me. My hands moved inward to where he was fully unbuttoned and touched the exposed triangle of skin. It was warm and tan, covered in light brown hair, which I lacked. I twirled my fingers through his hairy chest, stroked it, even buried my face in it and sniffed. I wanted to be as close to this man as possible and he helped by hugging tighter.

Each squeeze strained and popped his muscular arms. Even though his sleeves were loose my Dad's big biceps burst out. I was always impressed by guys who filled their sleeves because my lean arms certainly couldn't. I felt proud to have such a manly dad, the type any guy would wish for. I nuzzled in closer and smelt the dry, salty sweat on his neck, the musk permeating from his mesh sport polo. It was even stronger at the pits and my nose was drawn to it. I traced down to his armpit and planted my face right in there.

SNNIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFFF

I inhaled as deeply as I could, over and over, breathing in the scent of my Father. His odor was strangely familiar. Or, I guess, familial.......

"Hnnngggg..."

Weird noises kept slipping out of my mouth, little kitten whimpers. I felt like a damsel in distress with my big strong Dad there to save me. He comforted me so lovingly as I cried into him, kissing my forehead, sniffing my hair. He inhaled it voraciously which I found particularly endearing.

"Sweet boy, your hair smells so good. So pure and healthy." He smiled as he hugged me tighter, flexing his hairy, veiny arms.

At some point during our hug I noticed my penis was erect--and not just erect but throbbing! Strangely though I wasn't grossed out. No, actually, not at all. To me this reaction seemed perfectly natural. My body and mind were on cloud 9, of course I was hard! I didn't view my boner as sexual, but as a normal response to the pure bliss I was experiencing.

As I wiggled my hips against my Father, I noticed he too had an erection. This made me so happy, to know he felt the same way. We were both in heaven, together. Just us two. Father and son. No one else.

I pushed my 5 inch boner against my dad's leg as we rocked back and forth. The pressure felt fantastic so I did it again, rolling it all over, building tension in my groin. He responded by rubbing his against me, and even through his jeans I could tell it was massive! My dad's Italian sausage seemed larger than life as he ground up on me, grunting, flexing. He kissed my forehead, held my tight butt while pumping his flesh.

Our breathing got heavy and I heard myself making new sounds. Passive ones, submissive even. As we rubbed bodies I entered the historic role of the younger man guided by his older leader. My Father was my patriarch and would teach me to be my best self. I could sense he felt the same way, that he craved leading, providing, protecting. As he dry humped my body I knew he wanted to help shape me.

My father's grunts were becoming feisty while mine came out more as coos, one each time my small cock was stimulated. Interestingly, I had no shame in my bizarre reaction. This was all an expression of the purest love, to me it made sense. Our hug eventually died down and I looked up at my dad with happy tears and a wide grin.

He held my cheek in his big hand and said, "you have my eyes, son." I stared into his Adriatic blue irises with wonder and awe. This man really did make me.

My father gave my forehead one last prickly kiss before we finally separated. The magnetism between us was too strong though, and after only a second I'd scooched back under my dad's pit. His arm was already up, instinctively ready to protect his baby.

"How about we drive back to my house so we can talk. How's that sound?"

"Amazing...." I replied dreamily, still in a blissful daze.

"We'll take my truck. You can just leave your car here and we'll pick it up later."

I trusted my dad 100% and didn't even consider second-guessing him. He had my best interests in mind, I could tell. After taking a few steps, he stopped us.

"Mind if I carry you?" he asked sweetly. "It just feels..... right."

Before I could respond my dad put one arm under my legs and scooped me up.

"Hahaha! Dad!"

It felt so good to finally call someone that. I did it again. Giggling in his arms, I went limp and let him carry me out to the truck. My hand rested on his exposed chest and I petted my Dad's fur.

A natural parent, he deftly maneuvered me into one arm to open the car door. Once I was on the bench, he scooched me towards the center then even put on my seatbelt. When he got in we were again as close as can be, thighs and shoulders touching. After he reversed, my dad placed his palm up on my leg. I put both of my smaller ones in his like we'd been doing it our whole lives then he enclosed around me.

"It's funny," he said, breaking the ice. "I always thought I might have a son out there. Like I could feel it, this connection to someone I knew existed but would never meet. Then the second I saw you... well..." he wiped away a tear, "I just knew."

I started crying again and lifted my dad's hand to kiss it. It was so warm and smelt so good, I kissed it a few more times.

"I guess I should probably tell you who I am....." I started shyly. "I'm Liam O'Connell, from Gary, Indiana. My mom's Shannon O'Connell. She had me 22 years ago."

"Shannon O'Connell...." he whispered. I couldn't gauge his reaction. "She was that bartender at the Hog Pen, right?" I nodded. "Damn.... Shannon O'Connell....."

"So, did you guys date, or....?"

"To be honest, it was just a one time thing." My head dropped and he noticed. "Hey, hey, it's okay, sweetheart. What matters is that we've got each other now, right? That I've got my son and he's got his Dad. That's what matters. Us."

He put his forehead on mine and we looked at each other for a long time. I felt no discomfort being this close to him, no awkwardness. To me there was nothing more natural than my desire to bond and be close with my Dad.

We talked for a while, him about his ex-wife, me about growing up without him.

"I'm so sorry, son, so sorry. I never meant to abandon you. If I had known..."

He looked genuinely destroyed that he hadn't provided for his kin. I could tell it hurt his heart which hurt mine even more.

"It's okay, Dad, you didn't know. My mom doesn't even know..... That it's you, that is."

"Huh, you didn't tell her?"

"Well..."

I poured my heart out to him in a way I'd never done for anyone. I felt this man deserved to know everything, I didn't want to keep any secrets from him. I wanted him to be my best friend, my confidant, my leader, my therapist, my teacher, and most of all my Dad.

"How could she do that to you!" he shouted when I told him my mother had been prioritizing her new family.

"You don't know the life she's had.... It hasn't been easy."

"But you're her SON!"

He said it with such pride and conviction, more than I'd ever heard from my mother. I burst into tears again, so overwhelmed by this day. My Dad pulled over and let me bury my face in his chest for comfort.

"Daddy's got you, sweet boy. You'll never be alone again, I promise."

I scooted even closer until I was sitting sideways on his lap. I was rock hard again and could tell he was too, which I liked. It felt right. We smiled at each other then I leaned in and kissed my dad's beard.

"Thank you for not running away," I told him. "You could've told me to fuck off and made this the worst day of my life. Instead you made it the best. Thank you."

I gave him another kiss, this time on the lips.

"I'll always be here for you, sweet boy. Always. Liam, my son."

He gave me a kiss on the lips then I went back to the middle. Our cocks visibly strained for the rest of the ride and all I could think about was seeing his in the flesh. Again, not necessarily in a sexual way, but I knew I wanted to see my Father's penis. I wanted to see the big balls that produced me, the virile rod that sprayed me out. My body yearned to be naked with his, in our basest form. Father and son.

My Dad talked about his life and his recent divorce. His ex-wife couldn't have and didn't want children, and although that wasn't the only reason for their separation, it did play a part.

"I always wanted to be a father," my Dad confided. "To know I have you, my own flesh and blood. It's just...... beautiful...."

We touched foreheads again then each gave another lip kiss. Holding onto my Dad's big arm, I gazed up at him in awe as he drove. He looked like such a Man with his scruffy square jaw and thick neck. I noticed my penis reacting and scooted even closer.

We eventually pulled up to a nice two story house in a quaint suburb. The environment already seemed so much more stable than my mother's, everything about my dad made me feel at ease. Without even considering the implications, we held hands as we walked into the house. And after taking our shoes off, you better believe we were holding hands again. We simply did not want to be apart.

"I'm gonna head upstairs and take a shower," my Dad told me. "You do whatever you want. Have a look around, this is your house too now. I mean it, son, make yourself at home."

I held back tears as the giant man lumbered noisily up the wooden staircase. I'd always dreamed of the house being filled with that sound, those loud creaks only a big strong Dad can produce. I had a look around the kitchen and living room, and though it was a nice place it was obvious his ex-wife's feminine touch had already faded. It looked more like a bachelor pad now, which was fine with me as a 22 year old.

When I heard the water turn on all I could think about was my Dad naked. I bet his body was so muscular and hairy, so manly. I wanted to see him for myself, not in a weird way, but to appreciate the masculine energy I'd been missing for so long. To admire the manhood that brought me into this world.

Without thinking, my feet followed each other up the stairs, creaking so quietly I doubted he knew I was coming. That was okay with me. I just wanted to have a peek then leave. If anything I'd act like it was an accident. Worst case, it's just two dudes, who cares. But the closer I got the more excited I became. My dick hardened as I listened to my Father sing a sweet John Lennon melody.