Hello, my name is Taylor. If you've read my other story (In Love with Daddy, Ch. 1), you know that in it I describe how I, a regular 28 year old married man with a 4 year old boy, fell in love with my grieving, widowed father, Michael. I invited him to write the second part of our story (In Love with Daddy, Ch. 2), where he told you how my older sister, Lauren, found out about Dad and I (and was okay with it), how my gay coworker Jason invited us to a threesome, and finally, and briefly, about my decision to leave my wife, Becca, and be open about my relationship.
I will now try to give you a third story, from my point of view again. I will start only a few days after that last night with Dad, when I showed up at his house wearing a revealing top and a mini-skirt, with make-up. I found that I absolutely loved wearing women's clothing so, in a bold rush the morning after that last night, I made my way to the mall and bought several sexy outfits, as well as some new black bras and panties. I only wore them around Dad though, at his house and while going out to dinner with him, or to run errands. I didn't work the rest of the weekend, so I just spent time with Dad during the days—and the nights.
When Monday morning came I argued with myself back and forth over whether or not I ought to start wearing the ladies underwear and the make-up to work. Dad said he didn't care either way—though I know he loved me with it on and would feel very special if I did wear it to work for him. But in the end I decided on the safe course and changed into a clean pair of scrubs I had left at Dad's place, though beneath I still wore a black bra and silky smooth panties. I did my hair up like I used to always do it, and then stepped out of the bathroom where Dad was lying naked on our bed, his penis erect. I breathed deeply, looking at that beautiful strong body of his.
"What am I gonna do, sweetie pie?" he asked, grinning. "Mr. Teddy Bear wants his mama . . ." He spread his legs wide apart, so that I could see his anus, beneath his scrotum.
"Well, Mr. Teddy Bear is going to have to wait," I said, playfully. "If he's naughty, and plays with himself, then mama might not even come home tonight. What would Mr. Bear think of that?"
Suddenly Dad's smile broke, turning around into a mock frown. "Taylor, you're not serious, are you?"
I laughed. "Of course not, honey . . . but I do have to figure things out with Becca and Alex though. She's left a few messages on my phone, saying that she's already called her lawyer. She wants me to pack up my things, and sign the paperwork. I'll move out but I don't know if I should be signing anything until I can get a lawyer too. What do you think, Dad?"
He was somber now and sat up on the bed, scratching his arms. His penis was gradually going flaccid as he thought. He said, "I think you should. I know a good lawyer, a friend of mine—remember that guy in the gym that day when"—here a flicker of smile came over his face—"I touched you in the shower? That's him. His name is Bob—well, Robert McNamara, actually. He's good."
"Awesome," I said. "Well, Dad, I should be heading out now. I work until 7 tonight and will be stopping by my house to pick up some things. What do you do today?"
"Oh, jacking off to thoughts of you all day," he said, with a chuckle. "I don't have any plans yet. Now come and give your father a kiss, boy."
I giggled and let myself fall into his bare arms, kissing him. He still had some of my lipstick from the previous night on his lips—and on other parts of him as well. His right hand fell to my butt, which he squeezed tenderly. Just as I was about to let him go, I reached down with one of my free hands and wrapped my palm around the shaft of his penis, fully erect again. He moaned.
"That's it," I said, standing up straight and dropping his cock. "See you tonight, Dad."
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too."
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Work that day at the ER was busy, as usual. I had to help with a couple of patients who had had heart attacks, and one who had had a stroke. All in all, a very fast-paced morning. Jason was there but except for an occasion side glance at me, he didn't say anything to me, and I almost forgot that he knew about me and Dad at all. At lunch, however, he slid up next to me in the line and put his hand on my back between my shoulder blades.
"Is that a bra under there?" he asked. He fingered the strap through the thin scrubs material.
I turned to him and looked up—he was a few inches taller than me—into his smiling face. "Did you . . . could you see it?"
He nodded. "Yup, I could. It's pretty easy, you know. It's dark, and your scrubs are light. Did you think we couldn't see it?"
"No, not really," I admitted. "I should take it off, huh?"
He laughed. "And let those giant beautiful tits of yours sag? I don't think so, babe."
"Ha ha ha," I said, slowly. "Very funny. I like it, so sue me." I turned back towards the approaching salad bar, and picked up a tray.
"Well," Jason began behind me. "Even if you did take it off, we could still see your cute panties." With that he patted my butt softly.
After getting my food I made a point of sitting next to our manager, Sheryl, so that if Jason sat next to me he wouldn't be able to make his filthy jokes. Whether or not Sheryl could tell I was wearing a bra, or anyone else for that matter, I didn't know nor care. As I had told Dad last night: I was tired of it all, hiding, caring about that kind of thing. I was already compromising myself too much as it is by not wearing my make-up or doing my hair up.
As I ate, though, I found my eyes wandering around the cafeteria, checking out some of the hotter guys there—two or three nurses from other floors, some doctors, a unit clerk, and then there was Jason, of course, who eyed me back. He was a very good-looking guy—wide chest, nice cheekbones, a full head of dark brown hair—and if a rumor that I had heard from one of my female coworkers was true, Jason has a massive 10 inch cock. I don't know how she found out—as far as I could tell Jason was not bisexual. So it might be a myth. 10 inches is pretty big—Dad's is only 8 and mine an inch or more smaller than his. It was obvious to see the shape of his chest through his scrub top—his nipples were showing—so maybe I could find a way to see the shape of his penis through his scrubs bottom, just maybe . . .
What was I thinking? I am not interested in him, I told myself then, returning to the dull conversation at my own table. I could only endure it a moment longer, and thoughts of Jason came back to me. But I shoved them out and tried thinking of Daddy instead, of the taste of his balls, or of his anus. Beneath the table my penis was getting hard, so I again forced myself to follow along with the boring talk coming from Sheryl and the others. Soon lunch was over and I was back to work again, full blast.
Luckily, I managed to avoid Jason the rest of the night, and when I was off the clock I practically ran to the garage to my car. Before starting my car, I texted Becca to tell her that I was heading over there right now to pick up some of my stuff. When she replied a few minutes later, after I was already on the road, she just said "ok"—which I guessed was a good thing. In a few minutes I was there and walking up to the front doorway, where I unlocked the door and came inside.
The T.V. was on and my 4 year old, Alex, was sitting on the couch watching a cartoon. He had a blanket wrapped around him, and was eating a microwave mac and cheese supper. He raised his big blue eyes in my direction and, upon seeing me, exclaimed, "Daddy! You're home!"
He leapt from the couch and ran into my open arms. I hugged him tightly. It had been more than even a few days since I had last seen him, since he had spent a couple of days with Becca's mother and father.
"Where were you, Daddy?" Alex asked now, stepping back away from me. "Mommy says you were at Grandpa's house. She says you are going to live there now."
"Well, yes," I said. "I am going to live with Grandpa from now on. He is kind of sick, and needs a nurse like me to hang out with him all day and make sure he is okay at night too." I had prepared that lie over the weekend, with Dad's help. Alex would buy it, I knew—at least until he got older. He might get suspicious then, especially when his Daddy would start wearing women's clothing—which actually might be sooner than later (I had not quite decided upon the particulars of my public "show" yet).
"Yes," came Becca's voice, behind me, her tone cautious. "Your dad is going to live with Grandpa, and take right good care of him."
I turned and found her standing there in the doorway, her full blonde hair shining in the light coming from the kitchen to the side of her, at the end of the hall. She was very pretty, I still thought. She had a slim form, with full breasts and nice lady-like legs. Right now she was wearing a grey-green skirt with a white blouse, and an apron tied around her hips. She had the same deep blue eyes as our son.
"You can get your things from the bedroom," she said now, with a chilly undertone that had been missing a moment before. "Here, let's let Alex watch his television and finish his dinner."
With that I got up and, after patting my son of the head, walked behind my wife towards our bedroom where I sat on the bed and she closed the door. A lamp shone from a side table.
"So?" I started. "What's up, Becca?"
"You know," she said, remaining where she was. "Of course you do."
"Yeah, what do you want to say?"
She sighed, looked away briefly, and then lowered her eyes. "Do you really want to do this, Taylor?"
"You mean, do I really love my father?" I asked. I answered it myself: "Yes, of course. I love him."
"Love him . . .? Because it's your father and to love your father is natural?" Becca was now looking straight into my eyes and had taken a step forward, but her arms were clasped around her chest. "No, you love him in a different way, in a really disgusting way . . ."
I rolled my eyes. This was going nowhere. "Yes," I said. "I am his little bitch. He stuffs his penis into my ass. We—"
"Shh!" Becca said, putting her finger over her lips. "Alex might hear, you idiot! I don't even think he should be around you anymore, in fact. I think it's unhealthy."
