It was the summer after Jeremy's senior year. He would be off to college soon, moving to California to study engineering. I was so proud of him.
His last summer at home didn't seem so different from the rest, really. He worked as a lifeguard at the Y, getting paid minimum wage. My wife, Helena, was away on another business trip to Beijing, and I was working too. I do consulting work, high enough up that I get to work from the comfort of my own home office.
Jeremy had always been a Daddy's girl. Or, he was, before he came out, but Daddy's boy just doesn't have the same connotations. Helena was always tough on him, pushing him to train hard at the activities she signed him up for: tap dance, gymnastics, piano, volleyball. Out of them all, volleyball was the only one that stuck. He played for the girl's team at his high school until he came out his junior year, when he switched to the boy's. He was a good teammate, a good friend, and a great libero.
My wife took a while to come around when Jeremy came out, but I'd like to think I took it in stride. I was always happy just to make him laugh or see him smile. It didn't matter what gender he was, he would always be my baby. When he turned eighteen, I cried. My wife rolled her eyes at me. I always was the emotional one.
Now eighteen and a half, 5'8", a year on testosterone, heading towards top surgery, and off to college, my baby boy was all grown up. That would be proven to me this summer.
That summer, I decided to Marie Kondo my office, and rearranged it. Instead of the window facing the pool being behind me when I sat at my desk, it was in front of me, a quick glance up from my work monitors. An innocuous decision inspired by a Netflix star changed everything. I blame her.
When Jeremy would get back from his afternoon shifts at the Y, he would lounge in our pool, basking in the chance to actually swim instead of blowing his whistle at the tweens who ran by the side of the pool. At work, he wore his red trunks with a tee and hunched his shoulders to hide his B cup chest. Once he got home, he would strip his shirt off, leaving him in bright red trunks and a white sports bra that compressed his chest, but not as much as a binder would. (I had barred him from wearing a binder to work once he admitted that he would get dizzy sitting by the heavily-chlorinated pool in it. Tears sprung to my eyes as I gave him hell- "what if you passed out while sitting in that lifeguard chair? You could crack your skull and die!" He rolled his eyes at me, but agreed to wear sports bras. A good mix of his mother and I.)
It was half past five in the afternoon, and I was just slowing down for the day. Month-end deadlines pushed me to work harder than I usually did, so I had barely looked up from my screen all day long. I stretched, letting my thin frame relax against my ergonomic office chair as I looked out the window. And then I froze.
Jeremy was laying by the pool, clearly having just come out from the water. His slicked-back hair and wet footprints leading to the lounge chair were obvious clues, but the real reason I knew was because his sports bra was see-through.
I saw his pink nipples, pebbled from the cool water; his areola a hint of colored shadow under the fabric. A drop of water rolled, slowly, tantalizingly, between his young breasts, and disappeared. Further down, his tummy was flat from volleyball and conditioning, with a happy trail that gave me a run for my money. Water clung to the dark curls there, widening and leading to...
Oh, God. What was I doing? What was I thinking? Why was I looking there? Why was I thinking like this? That's my son. I shouldn't be looking at him while he's so bare. Then again,
I thought to myself,
it's not any more revealing than a bikini would be. Plus,
I rationalized,
there's nothing inherently sexual about what I saw.
The aching bulge in my trousers begged to differ.
I shook my head.
It's just Helena being gone,
I told myself. I squeezed my cock through my trousers while I remembered the night she tied me up and dominated me. Soon, I found myself going soft. I shook my head in frustration, powered down my computer, and began getting ready for dinner.
The next day, I found myself looking out the window after Jeremy got home from the Y. In the pool, he floated to the top of the water, his strong arms and legs becoming weightless. When he got out of the pool, he laid on his front on the lounge chair. Water dripped down his perfectly-arched back to just above his trunks, where a small covering of fuzz began. His bulky trunks couldn't entirely hide the curve of his backside, still plump despite the muscle underneath. His toned, hairy calves looked golden as they caught the evening sun.
Without even realizing, I shakily unzipped my fly and fished out my cock. My slit was already drooling precum past my foreskin. I wrapped my palm around my shaft and began to slowly pump my hand, dragging my foreskin down and hissing when I gathered wetness from my sensitive head. I wouldn't last long. I started pumping faster, looking at my son's round ass, when he turned over, unknowingly giving me more of a show when his pert breasts came into view. I bit my lip, imagining sucking on his sensitive nipples, him moaning "Daddy..."
"Shit," I mumbled, coming down from one of the quickest orgasms I'd had since Helena went through her tease and denial phase. I wiped up the cum from my keyboard, stealing a glance at my innocent son, still lounging by the pool, who was ignorant to his father's desire.
It went on like this for a week. During the work day, hating myself every time a key stuck, reminding me of what I had done; as soon as five thirty hit, my cock in my hand, cumming to the thought of my sweet baby boy.
One day, Jeremy inadvertently pushed me over the edge. I had drawn the blinds, telling myself I had to stop before I needed professional help. My cock, now used to evening playtime, had a semi in my work trousers. I headed downstairs to start cooking when I glanced outside and stopped dead in my tracks.
Jeremy had taken off his sports bra. His beautiful breasts were like tear droplets on his body, the perfect size. His nipples were so, so pink, and begging to be kissed and suckled. They were lovely and big, just like his mother's. Just as I drank all this in, he turned his head towards me.
"Young man, put something on before the neighbors see!" I sputtered out, flushing bright red as blood rushed to my cock.
