Being a single parent is hard. What's even harder is being the single gay father to a distractingly gorgeous 19 year old son.
I have my own landscaping business and Paul, my son, was home for the summer after his first year of college. Paul had been a high school rugby player so he was well built but that summer after a few weeks of helping out with my landscaping; he was developing a body that turned heads. Even the straight guys on my crew would follow him with their eyes while he worked. And it only made things more difficult that he was drop dead handsome and so sweet natured that you wanted to eat him whole.
Things were really feeling weird that summer. Paul was distant and detached, not at all like the boy he'd been before spending time away at college. I was wrestling with the dilemma of whether I should come out as gay to him, now that he was an adult. We both seemed to walk on eggshells around each other and avoid spending time together.
Like any good parent, I immediately assumed he'd gotten into drugs while he was on his own. So, like any good parent, I searched his room while he wasn't home, raiding all of his secret hiding places that I'd discovered years ago.
I didn't turn up any drugs, thankfully, but I did make some discoveries that troubled me almost as much. In one place under his mattress he had a cache of hardcore gay porn magazines. In another secret hiding spot was a dildo and a cock ring. My little boy was a grown up suddenly and I found myself wondering if I had somehow influenced his orientation without even knowing it. Things got even more strained around the house after that.
A couple of days later while we were working I mentioned to my employee Phil what I had discovered about Paul. Phil was another middle aged gay guy who was a well known cock sucker in our company. Hell, I'd even let him suck me off a few times in the past. It wasn't until after the conversation that I started kicking myself mentally......I had just set my son up as prey to a notorious cock hound.
I kept a close eye on Paul and Phil that afternoon. At one point, I asked Paul to try to make some order in our supply shed which was a mess. Before I knew it, I looked up and Phil had disappeared.
I swiftly went to the supply shed and opened the door a crack so that I could peep in.
Paul, his hairless body glistening with sweat, was sitting on a hay bale with his legs spread wide while Phil knelt between them. I've got a pretty big dick but the piece of meat in Phil's mouth made me wonder if I might be smaller than my son. As I watched, Phil's lips slid up and down my son's thick shaft while he leant back with a look of ecstasy on his face.
I threw the door open as if I didn't know what was going on while saying, "Paul, do you want to knock off early......"
Phil sprang to his feet and I got another look at the ass buster he'd just been sucking before Paul raised his legs and wrapped his arms around them. His cock was at least the size of mine and probably a bit thicker.
"Phil," I said. "I don't pay you to suck cock. Get back to work."
He hurriedly scurried out the door and Paul sat there, hugging his legs and looking down.
"I was going to ask you if you wanted to quit early and go home and order pizza." I said.
Paul sat there stone still, and then finally looked up at me . "I guess you're ashamed of me." he said.
"Because you took advantage of an opportunity to get your dick sucked? I'd probably be more disturbed if you didn't." I said.
Paul sat there, looking miserable and breaking my heart.
I spread my arms and said, "Come here, son."
Paul hesitated, then jumped up and rushed to me. We wrapped our arms around each other in a warm hug. Unfortunately, I was all too conscious of the big half hard cock that was rubbing against my own.
"I could never be ashamed of you, no matter what." I said. "I might get pissed off on a regular basis but I could never get ashamed. You got that?"
Without even thinking, my hands had drifted down and I found myself cupping the cheeks of his luscious ass and my cock started to grow in my khakis.
"Get your clothes on and let's go home, we've worked enough for one day." I said, breaking our embrace.
Paul's cock was back at full stand and I couldn't help stealing glances at it.
"I'll be waiting in the truck." I said, anxious to leave.
I told my crew that I was knocking off and that they were free to go as soon as they cleaned up. Phil was looking at me with a wary eye so I just mimed punching him and then gave him an okay sign and he smiled in return.
During the drive home, Paul and I didn't talk, the wall that had been between us all summer seemingly back in place.
When we reached home Paul flopped down on the sofa, still wearing a sour expression.
"I'm going to go take a shower." I said. "Don't go beating off while I'm in there."
"Ewww! Don't be gross, asshole!" Paul said with the beginning of a smile. That was more like the kid I'd known.
I went in and showered. The whole time, I kept thinking about how Paul's cock had looked in Phil's mouth, how it had felt when his hard cock had been against me and how his lush buns had felt in my hands. I almost wound up beating off myself.
When I was finished, I wrapped a towel around my waist and hollered down the hallway, "Shower's free if you want it." and then went in and laid down on my bed to rest. A minute or so later I saw Paul pass the door on his way to the shower.
I listened to the water in the pipes and then the slight noises of Paul toweling off. I heard the bathroom door open and then saw him walking past my room, a towel wrapped around his waist like mine.
"Paul, come in here for a minute." I called.
He came in and stood in the doorway looking dejected. I found it hard to believe that such a beautiful young man was my son. As I said, he's drop dead handsome with blue eyes and curly honey colored hair. He was always well built but the physical labor he'd been doing every day had sculpted the muscles in his arms and chest. He looked like a gay porn star and I could feel my cock starting to stir, looking at him.
"Why don't you come over here and lay down and tell me what's been bothering you so much?" I asked.
The whole time Paul had been growing up, it had been our special time just before bed when he'd come in and lie on my bed and tell me all of his troubles.
Paul looked exasperated for a moment, and then he came over and jumped on the bed so that he was laying face down, his face buried in the pillow.
"I'm just so fucked up." he said. "I think I'm going crazy."
I turned over so that I was facing him and said, "We all feel that way sometime. You know you can tell me anything, what's going on?"
Paul laid there a moment, his whole body tense, and then looked over at me almost defiantly.
"Oh, yeah?" he said. "What if I told you that I think you have a gay son?"
I didn't reply, my mind racing, trying to think what to say.
