The First Time for My Father

The neighbor seemed nice enough. Although Charles had to admit that socializing was more Susan's job and now that she had left and was busy with her new, much more hip friends that he didn't give a damn about what any of them thought. It didn't seem to matter at the moment, the man seemed intent on speaking with him though and no matter how diligently Charles pretended to ignore him, he wasn't giving up. "Mr. Hunt," here he was, calling out to Charles again and he was already more than halfway up the sidewalk.

There seemed to be no way of getting out of it and Charles could feel his shoulders slope a bit, he had lost. The neighbors had won and he would have never guessed that it was Susan's knack for this type of things is one of the things that he missed the most about her. "Can I help you?" he barked at the neighbor. He didn't have to try to sound like he was really telling him to go to hell, for Charles Hunt, it just came naturally.

"Hey, I'm Doug Riley, we live next door," the man made a face, neither of them seemed to be sure how to navigate this and apparently it was something that Mrs. Riley couldn't handle. The man pointed at Charles' front door, "can I come in for a second?"

Nothing in Charles wanted to say yes. It was his Saturday, a day that he had come to look forward to in its tedium. He worked on the yard and did odd jobs around the house and although in the back of his mind, he knew that it was all in a vain attempt not to feel lonely, it didn't matter. Charles would be tired by seven thirty and fall asleep watching a movie on the couch. Another day in the rear view, another day closer to feeling normal again. Doug was disturbing his new routine but there was something about the desperate look on his face that made Charles ignore his instinct. "Sure," he waved at the neighbor and opened the screen door, inviting the man inside. Once he had closed the door behind them, Charles watched as Doug shoved his hands down into his pockets as if he were too nervous to trust himself not to fidget and he figured that an awkward conversation was coming. "What can I help you with?" he asked with a fake smile plastered across his face.

For all of his urgency, Doug didn't seem as if he knew exactly where to begin. He cleared his throat and coughed, then asked, "Ashton's your son, right?"

Charles nodded and didn't say a word. Ashton was a good kid so if this asshole came over here to give him grief about his son, Charles was going to end this even sooner than he had planned to.

Doug nodded to himself and made fists in his pockets, "well, you know that Ashton comes over occasionally. He helps me with the model car I've been building."

It wasn't a question and Charles didn't know that but rather than look like a shitty parent, he lied and told the neighbor, "yeah, of course, Ashton told me."

Doug blushed, "well, we talk a lot and I'm not really sure how it happened," the man couldn't look him in the eye and Charles felt his pulse throb at his temple. "I didn't think anything of it but, well, your son unzipped my pants and was touching my cock," after the confession, Charles watched as his neighbor gave him the most inappropriate grin.

Sounded like bullshit to Charles and he narrowed his eyes, he could feel the furrow in his brow as he regarded the neighbor. More likely that he was the one reaching into Ashton's jeans, "are you sure about this, Doug? There isn't something that you'd like to confess?" he muttered.

Doug took a step back, "no, sir. No, I'm not gay and I told Ashton that and when he put his hand down in my boxers and grabbed," Charles watched him struggle with repeating the word, "grabbed me, I walked away. I asked him not to come back to the house but I started thinking about it and I just wanted to clear the air with you."

Charles crossed his arms over his chest, "Ashton's an adult, so I don't know why you would need to tell me."

The neighbor looked immediately relieved and suddenly the reason that Doug was here was abundantly clear. He was worried that was even more inappropriate than he had thought and Charles wondered if the man didn't regret turning him down now, at least a little. "Jeez, look at me, making things worse," Doug took two steps backwards to the door, it was almost as if he couldn't get away fast enough, "I'm so sorry. I guess it was just, when he was touching me, he called me Daddy."

Now it was Charles' turn to blush. He closed the distance between them, reached for the door handle, turned it and gestured to the yard. "Well, I'm sure that it was all just a misunderstanding and I will make sure that you don't see Ashton again," watching him leave, Charles knew that he would have pushed Doug off of his doorstep if he thought the man would keep his mouth shut.

As soon as Charles closed the door behind him, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. No, the neighbor wasn't the guy who could keep a secret and within a day or two, he had to assume that Doug would tell his story. Worse, he'd probably embellish and even though Charles didn't want to be friends with any of them, he also didn't need to feel their eyes on him. Charles still hadn't come to terms with any of it and he was too warm under his shirt and it felt as if all the blood in his body were moving much too quickly.

Susan had left him with this mess and even though Charles didn't blame her, he still could have used some help. She and her son were two peas in a pod. She should have understood better than anyone, or at least she should have tried. Charles was an outsider looking in, the boy didn't even bear the slightest resemblance to him. Charles was tall, dark-haired, almost swarthy after working outside so much, he was broad-chested and solid. He'd always been a foot taller than his wife and more than a foot wider and he used to joke about how the boy took after his mother.

Blonde and petite, willowy, Susan had taken ballet for years and with her tiny frame, she could have gone far if she hadn't chosen architecture instead. His wife and her pale, creamy skin, her slender limbs, her light blue eyes that looked so far away, Charles missed her everyday and yet he knew that all he had to do to get his fill of Susan was to look at Ashton.

Now that his son had grown his hair to his shoulders, he looked exactly like Susan, especially from behind. Charles could see the resemblance, both of them staring out the window expectantly, probably both wishing that they were anywhere but here and now, she was. She had left her doppelganger behind though and Charles couldn't stop berating himself for what had happened a month ago.

Waking up in the middle of the night, Charles had reached to his right to feel for Susan. It was instinctual after all of these years and in the place halfway between asleep and awake, he forgot all of it and smiled to himself as he thought that she must be downstairs getting a snack.

Sure enough, there she was, in the kitchen, her pale body glowed in the moonlight, the midnight around her. The light caressing her from behind, touching the tangle of blonde hair that had fallen forward, her skin was the same color as her white tee-shirt and she knew that it drove Charles crazy to feel her just like this. "Baby," he came up behind her and his face found the warm nook that he liked to kiss, a small place on her throat that sometimes smelled of her floral perfume and tonight he searched for her scent with his mouth. A kiss there and then another a little further up, almost nibbling her buttery ear lobe and then one a little further down, closer to her shoulder and if Susan would allow it, he'd strip the tee-shirt off of her right here and push her small body up against the island. "There you are," he sounded so pleased to have found her, "what are you doing down here all alone, baby?" Charles burrowed his face into her sheath of blonde hair as his right hand reached around her body. Cupping her tiny, left breast, her skin was so soft and supple. She had bee sting breasts and Susan's whole body would shiver when he licked her nipples. She was so responsive and her first moan was a reminder of just how long it had been.

When she answered, "I was just thinking about you," it was a kitten's purr and her voice traveled straight to the head of his cock. Charles was instantly hard, from root to tip, his dick pulsated in the front of his boxers, his manhood was already seeking out the bottom hem of her tee-shirt and he spilled precum on the front of his underwear as he though about parting her thin thighs and holding her dainty hands flat to the marble counter. "Oh yes," she arched her back and it was like she had never left at all. It was like all of the other midnight couplings that they had shared over the years, Susan panting just like that, her mouth open. Her back coated with a little sweat, her ripe nipple hot and feeling as if it were about to burst under his touch, "please, Daddy," she begged him.

It was then that Charles froze, it seemed that even his heart had stopped beating and the next breath he took was a gasp from somewhere deep inside. His hand was still fondling the nipple and his dick was still out. His manhood had escaped through the opening in his boxers and the slippery head had found its way to the tee-shirt, intent on making its way to the hot, velvety destination that it craved.

He had to force himself to take a step back before it was too late. "Ashton," Charles had been so close to pushing the tee-shirt off and he wasn't sure, even as his body seemed to revolt, his stomach churned, his heart trembled in his chest like far off thunder. If he had gotten the boy naked, he didn't think he could have stopped. "What the fuck are you doing in here?" he had asked but each word was a struggle to say.

How could he accuse Ashton of anything? All the boy had done was look just like his mother and that was a mix of genes and nothing more. Charles was the pervert who had brought his nipple to a thudding point and rubbed the tip of his dick along the boy's warm crack. Ashton didn't make it any better though when he turned around and reached for him, arms open wide but this wasn't for a father son embrace, this was something completely different. His son's erection was small and Charles watched as it flailed, poking out from the bottom of the shirt, "Daddy, please, don't stop," his son hadn't wanted it to end. "I've wanted you for so long," he whispered and then stopped in his tracks.

His son must have known that he was dangerously close and Charles could hear his heartbeat, then his breath, then another beat and nothing else and when he turned to leave the boy, he ran.

Charles had still been hard two hours later, he could see his thick cock standing at attention under the blanket, making a tent, sending an almost constant reminder of what he needed so badly with every breath. Every nerve was alive and when he clasped his cock in his palm and squeezed just a little, he closed his eyes and in his mind, he went back to the kitchen.

He was haunted. The boy had even ruined masturbation and although it could hardly be Ashton's fault, it wasn't as though his son had done anything with malicious intent but it didn't matter how many times Charles murmured, "oh, Susan," while touching himself, there was another name on the tip of his tongue.

That night, he hadn't said it out loud but he knew in his heart that he had climaxed thinking of the boy.

Part 2

"Did you try to jerk off the neighbor, Ashton? Really, what the fuck?" Charles hadn't even knocked on his son's door and even though the boy was eighteen and entitled to some privacy, he had to admit that lately, he had almost wanted to catch him doing something.

Ashton was sitting in the middle of his bed, wearing only shorts. His laptop between his legs and the blonde boy was upset that his father didn't have the courtesy to knock, Charles could tell. He got the same two, small, red points at the center of each cheek when he was on the verge of exploding, just like his mother. It was something that hardly ever happened, they were both good-natured and easy-going.

Which explained why the two men hadn't ever said a word about what had happened that night, although the whole thing was burned into Charles' brain. "Hey, Dad," Ashton gave him half a smile and Charles noticed for the first time that his son had the same, curvy lower lip that Susan had.

He'd nibbled and sucked on that lower lip a thousand times. Probably more and it was one of the most amazing feelings in the world, the sensation of that lower lip gliding over the head of his cock, on her way down as her tongue began to meander over his dripping slit. He had to stop and Charles lingered near the door, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other, he wouldn't allow himself to get hard, not again, not like this. "Don't hey dad me," he barked at the boy, studying his son's body, unsure of where to let his eyes rest. "Doug came over and said that you were trying to jerk him off?" he asked it like a question but he had assumed that it was true.

Ashton must be a faggot, with a build like that. What was the word? Twink, Charles winced when he said it again to himself, his son was a twink, short, thin, soft, there wasn't a line of muscle in his arms or his legs. In fact now that he was studying the boy on the bed, Charles thought that he was even a bit more girlish than he had been a month ago, his waist seemed smaller and his hips flared a little. A twink indeed, no wonder Doug had to ascertain his age, the boy still had an almost white bit of down on his face and not a trace of a beard or mustache. As far as Charles knew, his son had never shaved and didn't need to. He appeared to be hairless except for the blonde locks that teased his shoulders, which Ashton flipped back with his left hand. "I was just following his lead," Ashton shrugged, "Doug's just nervous. He doesn't want his wife to know."

Charles wondered if he weren't just a little jealous, "I'm sure that he doesn't want his wife to know that you're over there touching his cock," he sounded much more disgusted than he actually was.

Ashton looked his father in the eye, those clear, deep, light blue eyes made you stop in your tracks and pay attention. Susan had frequently drawn his eyes up and in and it seemed that Charles had dove into the deep end right away and now, Ashton had him holding his breath. "No, Dad, you don't get it," there was a pull between them that had started that night and Charles hated himself as he felt the head of his cock swell in the front of his pants. There was the nipple that he had kneaded between his fingers and maybe his son's breasts were a little softer, a little rounder than they had been in the front of the tee-shirt, "Doug's one blowjob away from being gay."

Charles felt sorry for the guy, a little anyway. Charles knew firsthand what a temptation Ashton had become, "hey," he snapped, wishing that there was a polite way for him to adjust his dick without Ashton watching, "just because you're into guys doesn't mean everyone is."

Ashton moved the laptop, the expression on his face had changed and there was a flash of heat in his son's eyes, "yeah, Daddy? I think you might be into guys a little more than you care to admit."

Charles felt the trickle of sweat bubble at the back of his neck and drip down, winding its way into his shirt. Ashton had moved to the edge of the bed, it was suddenly too hot in here and they were far too close, his son was wearing too few clothes and he'd just realized that he could see the outline of Ashton's nub in the front of his shorts. The boy had a wet spot there, "don't be disgusting, Ashton," Charles barked at him and couldn't make the quick exit that he'd been counting on. He had to stay, he was compelled, or maybe it wasn't a decision at all as much as a physical need like water, like air. "Why would you do that with Doug?" he didn't want to know why, but his voice seemed to be beyond his control and quickly, the rest of Charles' body was following suit.

Ashton seemed to know exactly what he was doing and Charles was lost, grasping at straws. The boy stood up, shoulders back, completely confident, "why was I touching Doug's dick?" he asked, his small, almost dainty hands on his own body, "I was horny, it wasn't really a big deal, Dad." The boy's two fingers lingered over the button on his waistband, "Why did I call him Daddy?" he asked as he unbuttoned and then unzipped, "I don't think I need to explain that, do I Dad?" his voice was feminine and husky, almost like Susan when she would whisper sweet nothings in his ear. "I've had a crush on you for as long as I can remember," Ashton confirmed it as his shorts fell to the floor.

The boy was wearing the tiniest bikini cut underwear, light blue and Charles hated that he had seen them right away and now, he couldn't look away. The outline of his son's small cock was even more noticeable now in the satiny material, the center was wet, his slit was coated in precum. Charles was sure that he was watching as Ashton's cock wiggled, beckoning to his father. "What are you doing, son?" he gasped as the boy closed the gap between them. It was just three steps and he was almost as close to Charles as they had been that night in the kitchen.

"Daddy," Ashton cooed, looking up as his girlish hands began to explore his body, "I am into guys and I can't help that but there's always been only one guy for me," he plucked both of his tender, pink nipples and Charles decided that it wasn't a trick of the light, he wasn't seeing things. His son had a slender waist and his hips were rounder than a boy's should be, his breasts jiggled a little when he walked, like his mother's did. "I know you feel it too, Daddy, I've always wanted you but I think," he looked up, licking his lower lip a little, leaving behind a glimmer of his saliva. It would look like that, shiny and a little wet, after sucking his father's cock as well and Charles forced himself to look away. "I think Mom always knew that there was something between us," he whimpered, "you knew that it wasn't her that night," Ashton cupped his pubescent titties and turned, looking back over his shoulder at his father, "you know you feel it too. You want me as much as I want you, Daddy."

In the daylight and from the back, he was a younger Susan but this time, Charles didn't want Ashton to be a replacement for anyone. He had bitten his lip until he'd left two, bloody prints there time and time again since that night, jerking himself hard and fast and quivering as his hand brought him to the precipice and the first gush of semen burst from him just as the almost indescribable pleasure danced down his body. He didn't want it to be anyone but, "Ashton," he whispered as he found the boy's hand and placed it on the hot lump in the center of his pants, "is that what my beautiful, little boy wants? You want your Daddy's big, hard cock, don't you? You need your father's dick inside you, Ashton?"

Ashton massaged his father's erection between the pleats and Charles felt the tremor in his hand as he touched the belt, as if he were pausing, considering what the consequences of his next actions would be. His son used both hands to unbuckle him and his two buttons and the zipper took almost no time at all. "Yes, Daddy," the blonde boy confessed just above a whisper, "I've always wanted my Daddy's big, hard cock. Ever since the first time I caught a glimpse of it." The boy had his pants completely open and down to the top of this thighs, "I've dreamed of touching it." Charles watched it all, almost an out of body experience and yet, it was exquisite, he could feel the little fingers curling in his thick, black coat of fur, "I didn't even know what sucking a dick was," his son admitted as he tugged at his briefs, "but my mouth watered when I thought about kissing your beautiful cock, Daddy."