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Daddy Blue Pt. 01

By: Ford2020



When Charlie awoke that sunny day, he was feeling pretty good. He had no idea life was about to throw him the biggest curve ball anyone could imagine. The following is my first attempt at a multi-part story, and I hope that if you get through it or the following two parts, you will consider leaving me some feedback letting me know what you think. All comments are much appreciated. 

Thanks, the author 

***** 

The alarm went off at its usual hour—7 a.m.—but for once I shut it off, rolled over and went back to sleep. This being the first day of spring break—my very first college spring break—I'd be damned if I was going to get up early. And even when I did finally crawl out of bed at a little past nine, I was in no hurry to get the day started; so instead of getting dressed I brewed a cup of coffee on my roommate's nifty little coffeemaker and parked myself in front the tube where I sat idly watching Jerry Springer's morning freak show. By this time I normally would have been into my second class of the day, busily scribbling notes as the prof droned on about World Lit, and trying hard to keep my focus on Shakespeare and Dante rather than the hot guys seated on either side of me in the classroom. Of course that was just on Mondays, Wednesday and Fridays. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I would be at the university library contemplating pulling my hair out as I surveyed the endless stacks of books I had to shelve as part of my part-time work study job. 

But not today. Today, I didn't have a worry in the world, and the only thing on my mind was wondering why the blue collar joes on Jerry's show—some of whom weren't half-bad looking—would ever want the hoary-looking skanks screeching and clawing over them. But if my day was starting off perfectly, the same could not be said for my dormmate Sean. While I was sleeping late, he had already gotten up, straightened up his bed, and hurried off for early morning conferences with a couple of his professors. Sean was in danger of failing several classes, and in a desperate attempt to head off academic probation, he had gone to throw himself on the mercy of his profs and beg for extra credit work over spring break. I'd seen this coming from day one. Sean's story was an old one. Raised by strict parents who'd kept him on a tight leash all the way through high school, he had basically gone wild with partying at his first taste of freedom, his freshman year of college. It was a classic trap. 

Of course it was my freshman year too, here at good old Texas A&M, and I certainly wasn't allergic to going out and having a good time. The difference between me and Sean was that I knew how to pace myself. My dad who'd raised me alone never tried imposing a bunch of stupid rules on me growing up—which may seem a little strange considering he was a tough, by-the-book street cop. Dad put it this way: He worked a job that required him to slap rules on people all day, and he did not want to come home in the evenings and start doing the same to me. He said it was just a hell of a lot simpler and easier to trust me, which he did . . . that is, until I gave him reason not to. Now that's not to say I didn't push the limits of my dad's patience from time to time, like the time I tried cutting some classes in my senior year to sneak off and see an older boy I liked. Dad didn't scream or shout when he found out. He didn't even demand to know exactly where I had gone or what I'd been up to. He just confiscated my credit card for a whole month, which was my primary source of knocking around money, and I got religion real quick and gave him my solemn vow nothing like that would ever happen again. As for my general coming and going in high school, Dad made no rules about that either, not even setting a curfew. But he did say I needed to answer my phone whenever he called, and I'd better not be caught doing anything illegal. And I never did get caught doing anything illegal, which is not to say I didn't try a few things beyond the strict definitions of the law, from time to time. 

The sounds of kids milling about in the hall and leaving the dorm snapped me out of my reverie and made me aware how late it was getting to be. Damn, it was closing in on ten and I hadn't done a single thing to get ready to leave myself. At the rate people we deserting the campus, the whole place would be a ghost town by afternoon. Even Sean had found time to pack a bag and leave it on his bed before lighting out for the academic buildings. I really needed to get a move on, especially if I still hoped to hit the highway to Houston by noon. Nothing would please me more than seeing boring old College Station in my rearview mirror. 

I stripped off my underwear and grabbed a towel on the way to the bathroom. I was just about to step into the shower when I heard a knock at the door. It was Sean's boyfriend Jack. 

"Sorry, he's not here," I said letting him in. It was impossible not to notice how Jack's eyes trailed down to the towel I had wrapped about my waist. This wasn't the first time I'd caught the guy checking me out. 

"I know," Jack said, flashing that sexy-shy, boy-next-door smile of his. "He texted me, said the meetings with the profs was gonna take longer than expected. Seems he ran into a line at both buildings with kids trying to do the same as him, get some extra credit work to get their grades up." 

"Doesn't surprise me," I added. 

"Anyway, he said for me to wait for him here. We'll take off for South Padre as soon as he gets back." 

"Fine by me," I said. "But, look, I'm running late and I've really got to hit the shower." 

As I turned back toward the bathroom, I thought I caught a glimpse of something a little extra in Jack's face. What was it: Curiosity? Interest? Lust? Hell, now I was curious. I wondered what he would do if I "accidentally" left the door to the bathroom ajar while I showered. Minutes later I got my answer. Just as I was sticking my head under the water, the dude started talking to me. It was obvious he was standing inside the bathroom door. 

"So, Charlie," he called out, yelling over the sound of running water. "Sean says you're not going anywhere for spring break. That true?" 

"I'm going home, if that's what you mean." 

"Yeah, that's what Sean said. So, listen, dude, instead of doing that, why not catch a ride down to the coast with Sean and me and crash free of charge? We've rented this condo just off the beach for the whole week. And I'm telling you, dude, the place is fucking huge, more than enough room for a third. And it's South Padre, man. There's gonna be parties and stuff going on all week. What do ya say?" 

I wanted to say, So what are you really up to, dude? I mean, here I barely knew the guy—in fact, I only really knew him through Sean—and yet here he was standing a few feet from me in the shower inviting me to take a road trip with him and his boyfriend. Talk about bizarre. The three of us had hung out a few times here in the dorm, and once or twice I had tagged along with them when they went out to eat. But right now, this situation felt pretty provocative. 

"Um, thanks, Jack, but I think I'll pass. I'm meeting up with some of my friends in Houston." 

He made no further entreaties, but I had the definite impression he lingered in that doorway for a while watching the outline of my naked form moving around inside the spray of water. He wasn't there when I stepped out of the shower, but the door was still ajar. As I stood there wringing water out of my hair, I had to wonder if Sean knew his cute boyfriend had a roving eye. Probably, I chuckled to myself. Sean wasn't always the sharpest tack in the tacklebox, but even he had to know a guy with Jack's looks had probably done his share of playing around. 

I slipped on a pair of underwear and exited the bathroom. Jack had retreated to a chair at Sean's desk in the far corner of the room. He was idly staring at the TV but his eyes surreptitiously followed me as I moved across the room to the large clothes closet that Sean and I shared. I was really starting to get off on this little game of cat-and-mouse that Jack and I were playing, though it was becoming less clear which of us was the cat and which the mouse. Up until this moment I had not given any serious consideration to the thought of hooking up with Jack—not because he wasn't cute enough (I'd have to have been blind not to have checked him out once or twice)—but the thing is, college dorms are literally chock full of good-looking guys. Why mess with Seans'? Besides, up till now they had seemed pretty much joined at the hip. For the first time, I realized that they weren't. 

I was in no particular rush to get dressed. After pulling on a T-shirt, I began spreading my bed, giving Jack a generous view of my body as I moved around the bed, stretching and pulling the sheet into place. While he subtly watched me, I returned the favor, studying his features and form. Jack was long, lean and clean-cut, the sort of wholesome, good-looking, boy-next-door type of guy that was not uncommon on the grounds of Texas A&M. In large part, that's because the school draws heavily from the farms and small towns of the state, where men are men, and boys are raised to stand tall and strong and straight. Of course Jack was hardly straight, but you'd never have guessed that by looking at him. From his close-cropped, neatly-trimmed hair, to the dressed down shirt and jeans he usually wore, he was virtually indistinguishable from the hordes of all-American straight arrows that swarmed the campus. Unless I missed my guess, not even his parents probably knew he was anything other than what he appeared, just your nice, average, straight-shooting Texas boy. 

"Can I ask you a question?" I said, turning to him just as I finished making the bed. "You played sports in high school. What was it: football?" 

"Yeah," he said, again flashing that sexy half-smile. "Does it show?" 

"You're certainly in great shape. The reason I ask is that most gays I know didn't play varsity sports in school. In fact, I didn't know any." 

"Yeah, see, that's a myth. I know plenty of 'em playin' sports. But it is true, I guess: most keep quiet about the gay stuff. That kinda thing ain't likely to go down too well back where I come from." 

"West Texas—right?" I asked. 

"Yep. The boonies. Lots of stuff still ain't cool out there, but I managed to have my share of fun growin' up. You just gotta know how to find it." 

"Oh, come on, Jack. You're tall, good-looking, and a jock to boot. I'm betting you've never had to look very far in you life to find a good time." 

And then the ultimate happened. Jack grinned and, yes, blushed—blushed! I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen anybody blush. And with my brown complexion, I was pretty sure I'd never blushed in my life. 

"It's a damn shame," he sighed, as he watched me pull a pair of khaki shorts out of the small chest near my bed and slip them on. "A hot black guy like you with a body like that. I'm tellin' ya, Charlie, you'd really clean up on the beach at Padre. Why not chuck all that stuff about Houston and come along with us?" 

"Actually, I'm only half-black. My dad's white." 

"Oh, wow, man, sorry," said Jack, looking like he'd just run over his grandmother. "I didn't know." 

I had to laugh. "It's no big deal. You've got my permission to call me a hot black guy any time you want. The way I see it, it's like having a foot in both camps—and I happen to like it that way. But if you want to see what a really hot black guy looks like, you should check out my ex-boyfriend Trey. Like you, he's tall and lean and packed in all the right places. Actually, Trey is one of the reasons I'm going to Houston for spring break. I'm hoping for a chance to see him while I'm there. The only reason we broke up was that my dad forced me to come to A&M rather than go to the U. of H. the way I wanted to." 

"Your dad really wouldn't let you go the University of Houston? Why the heck not?" 

"Because he's a power-mad egomaniac who always has to have his own way. Not really. I don't actually know why he made me come here. Every time I'd ask him he'd give me a different reason. As far as I can tell, it's mainly because he went here. My dad's a cop and not big on giving explanations. The thing is I'd been planning on going to the U. of H. for as long as I could remember. My best friend Dell and I were going to enroll together and eventually get an apartment together. As it is, Dell's there and I'm stuck way out here in the middle of nowhere. And I hate it." 

"You really hate A&M?" 

"OK, so no, I don't totally hate it, but I still don't want to be here. Right now, Dell and I are working on a plan to get me to the U. of H. by next year. During spring break, I'm gonna really confront my dad about this. I know I can make him change his mind. Until then, I talk to Dell on the phone a lot and he keeps me up on what's going on." 

"OK, but I still don't get why you broke up with this guy Trey," said Jack, looking a bit confused. "Did your Dad have something to do with that too?" 

"No, that was my idea. We hadn't been together very long, and I really didn't like the idea of a long-distance relationship. But I really did like him, and if I can get back to Houston I'm hoping he'll be open to picking up where we left off. We got together at New Year's, and it was amazing. Almost like we never were apart . . . which reminds me. I've been meaning to call him and let him know I'll be in town all next week. I'm hoping we can get together again. I'd better call now." 

I dialed Trey's number. 

"Yeah?" came a voice on the line. 

"Hey, old man." 

"Hey, yourself, college boy. How they treatin' you up there in the land of beer and honey? They turn you into a frat boy yet?" 

I laughed. "No fucking way! You know how I feel about that stuff." 

"No shit," he said, laughing too. "I only said it because I knew it would a get a rise out of you. So tell the truth: you gettin' use to the idea of being on your own yet?" 

"It's not so different. You forget: My dad pretty much let me come and go as I pleased even when I was at home. The biggest surprise it that I don't get out nearly as much now as I did back in Houston. You wouldn't believe all the studying I've got to do." 

"Poor little college boy. Are they bein' mean to ya? You do know, don't ya, Charlie, that going there still beats the hell out of spending all day stuck under a greasy car like me." 

"I guess," I said with a sigh. "I still miss Houston and all my friends. Don't think I'm ever going to get used to this place. I swear I'll never forgive my dad for making me come here." 

"Sure you will. At heart, you're still Daddy's boy." 

"Dammit, Trey, why do you say that? It's not even true, and you know it. I don't miss him. I miss my friends . . . and you." 

"It sounds to me like somebody ain't upholding his part of the bargain. As I recall when we split, we agreed there'd be no moping around, no looking back, no griping and no regrets. In fact as I recall, kid, that was your idea. You said we should be free and go out and test the waters. See what's out there. What's the matter? Don't tell me that on that great big old campus you ain't found at least one horny frat boy to party with." 

"Asshole," I snorted as he snickered. "Don't worry about me; I'm doing just fine in that department." I was a little irritated at him for egging me on. But it wasn't exactly surprising. Trey always did like teasing me, and I could tell from his voice he was thoroughly enjoying using my own words against me. 

"I know you are," he said after a moment. "I don't worry about you, Charlie. You'll always land on your feet." 

"You've been such a total jerk that I don't even know why I'm calling you. But I kept thinking about the time we spent together at New Year's. It was incredible. Look, spring break is starting today, and I'm driving home this afternoon. In fact I'll be around all next week. So I was thinking that maybe, if you have the time, we could see each other." 

I knew something was up when the phone suddenly went very quiet. Finally I spoke up. "You still there?" 

"Uh, yeah, baby, sure. That just catches me up a little short. I wasn't expecting that." 

"So?" 

"Jesus, Charlie, you always did have a way of surprising me. Like I said, this catches me up short. I bet that crazy friend of yours, Dell, can't wait to see you." 

"What about you?" 

"Um, this isn't easy to say, kid." 

"Then, for Pete's sake, Trey. Just spit it out." 

"I'm seeing somebody. Sorry." 

"No, you don't have to apologize. It's like you said: it was my idea for us to move on to other people. But you have to admit it's a little sudden. I mean, I just saw you two months ago." 

"Yeah, I know. But this thing just came up . . . out of the blue." 

"So is it serious?" 

"A little bit, yeah. See, it's somebody I already knew, somebody I knew even before I met you." 

"Let me guess," I said, suddenly certain I knew who it was. "Allison—right?" 

"Alli, yeah." 

"Your old girlfriend. The one you were seeing when I came along. So how the heck did that happen?" 

"Um, I don't know, Charlie, it just happened. I went to this party at a friend's house. She was there. We got started talking, and the next thing you know, we started hanging out. That's all . . ." 

"So now you're back together." 

"Actually, Charlie, we're talking about moving back in together." 

"Just like old times," I said, not exactly succeeding at keeping the bitterness out of my voice. Now it was my turn to go silent. 

"Hey, kid, you still there?" 

"Yeah. " 

"You OK?" 

"Look, Trey, I think it's really great that you two are back together. Almost like you never broke up. Really. She's a nice girl, I always felt a little guilty about the way you threw her over when we got together. So now everything's back the way it was. Isn't that just great?" 

"Jesus, Charlie . . ." 

"No, Trey, I'm not bitter. Really. I always wondered if you would've stayed with her if I hadn't come along to fuck things up. Now I know. But we had some fun together—didn't we? You can't say we didn't." 

"No, I'd never say that. Charlie, you pushed my buttons like nobody else. Made me do things I never thought I could do. I'll miss that." 

"Me too. I'll miss a hell of a lot of things." 

I terminated the call, not wanting to drag this infernal goodbye out any longer. I never was much of one for saying goodbye anyway, and it was especially bitter with Trey because I knew that, in truth, I was the one who had let him go. I tossed the phone onto the bed, and then realized with a start that Jack had been sitting quietly in the corner listening to every humiliating word that I'd said. 

"Sorry about that," I said, a little embarrassed. 

"His loss," he said with a shrug and a smile. "He don't deserve you." 

I knew Jack only said that to cheer me up, but somehow his comment only managed to irritate the hell out of me. What did he know about my situation or whether Trey deserved me or not? Jack was just a backwoods Texas hick who'd probably never had a serious relationship in his life. What did he know about anything? 

"Hey, come here," I ordered, beckoning to him. 

When he came over, I grabbed him by his shoulders and slammed him against the wall. "Tell me something, Jacko," I said. "Have you ever done anything really wild in your entire life?" 

"What?" he gasped, his eyes wide with confusion. 

"You heard me," I snapped. "Wild. Crazy. Uninhibited. Have you ever done anything so fucking out there, that it scared the holy shit out of you?" 

"I, uh, I'm not sure," he sputtered. 

"Have you ever taken a chance on something? Or someone? Have you ever just let yourself go, and done something without first thinking about the consequences?" 


Daddy Blue Pt. 01



"Um, I don't know if this counts, but a week ago Sean and me were at this party in one of the frat houses. And just for the hell of it, we snuck up to one of the bedrooms and made out in some guy's bathroom." 

I snickered. "Really? You're saying you and my junior Republican roommate actually went into somebody's room and got down and dirty?" 

"Well, yeah, sorta. I mean, we didn't really get naked or anything like that. But Sean did end up giving me a quick blow job." 

I nearly fell over laughing. "Yep, that's what I thought. You two sneak into a bathroom somewhere for a quickie, and think you've actually done something. That's just sad." 

I turned away from him with a dismissive shake of my head, reached into the closet and pulled out a duffel bag. "I really have got to get out of here." 

"So what do you call wild?" he said, following me as I went to my bed and opened the bag in preparation to start packing. 

"Once, Trey and I got really horny after smoking a joint in his truck," I said, cutting my eyes in Jack's direction. "And for some strange reason we ended up at the zoo. And then for the hell of it, we snuck into some bushes next to the monkey house, and actually fucked in front of the monkeys. We must've given them one hell of a show because, I'm telling you, they went total freak-out crazy." 

Jack's mouth dropped open and I swear he looked like he was about to blush again. And for all the embarrassment in his face, with those big round blue eyes and dark blond hair, he still looked good enough to eat. 

"You know what you should do," he said, recovering his composure a bit. "You should just say, 'Fuck it, I'm over him. Time to move on and have some fun.' And then you should just jump in my jeep come down to Padre with me and Sean." 

"Fuck Padre!" I said, glaring at him. And then I pressed my mouth over his, locked our lips together and pulled our bodies close in a hard, deep, desperate kiss. 

"I don't feel like partying or losing myself on a beach," I said when I broke the kiss. "I just want to feel alive. I just want . . ." I wanted to say something about the fire burning inside me, but I lost heart and let it go. But surprisingly, Jack didn't. 

"You think I don't get it, but I do," he said, grabbing me and holding me close. And then Jack totally shocked me by pulling us back together and cramming his tongue into my mouth. The kissing was hard, physical and intense, and in a flurry of movement we began tearing at each other's clothes. In seconds we had stripped off our shirts and were busy pushing off our pants when Jack suddenly froze and drew a breath.'' 

"I can't do this," he sputtered. "Sean—" 

"Could come in here any minute," I said, completing his thought. I put my hands on his chest. His skin was flushed and warm, and his heart racing. "But ask yourself: Have you ever felt more alive?" 

I pressed myself into him, nuzzled his neck, sniffed the sweetness of his scent. Damn, he didn't just look good, he smelled good, too. For a moment at least, he made me forget about Trey. Jack responded as I hoped he would, wound his arms around me, sniffed me in return and then began rubbing himself against me like we were kindling just ready to burst into flame. Up until that moment I wasn't sure there was a spark of spontaneity inside him; now I knew there was. And he had me heating up fast. 

Wasting no time, I shoved down his jeans and briefs in one swift motion. I dropped to my knees as his cock popped out hard and stiff, and I heard him gasp when I wrapped my fingers around it. It was smooth and creamy as I worked my fist down the length of it, then back up again, finally squeezing the glossy head until a clear bead of precum oozed forth. I glanced up at his anxious face before leaning forward and licking the drop clean. I continued to stroke his fuckrod, and when I licked his cockhead again, I could feel his entire body shudder. I knew exactly how he felt. Ripples of heat were passing through me too, making me groan. When I glanced up again, Jack bent down and kissed me again. And then using both hands he brought my mouth fully onto his dick. 

It tasted so good that I swallowed it eagerly, allowing the long slender shaft to slide into my throat. I continued to swallow, using my throat muscles to massage his cock, and urge out even more tasty drops of precum. The groans coming from Jack told me just how much he was enjoying my oral ministrations. 

He began moving his cock in and out, at first slowly matching his fuck strokes with the rhythm of my sucking. But soon his movements increased, gaining more urgency, and becoming more insistent. His groaning was increasing as his fucking was growing in power. Finally he was pile-driving into me, harder and faster than I could match, forcing me to open wider and swallow deeper in an effort to keep up. He was overpowering me, slowly choking me, but I didn't stop him, at least not at first. Finally I had to pull away, just to catch my breath. Still gasping I glanced up at him again and saw his face had become a twisted mask of pleasure and desire. 

Sean wouldn't have recognized that face and the thought of it made me grin. Jack was more than a little drunk with pleasure and in no mood to pause, and he pulled me back onto his slimy shimmery beast. Heck, I was drunk too, lusting after his pole and his body, and perfectly happy to allow him to use my throat as his fuck piece. I was positively thrumming with delight as I opened my maw even wider, and swallowed the boy right down to his silvery pubes. My throat closed around him like a velvet vise and I heard him call out. 

"Goddammit! Jesus, you're gonna . . . make me blow!" 

He grasped my head and held tight, then lurched forward to deliver a fiery blast of cum down my throat. As more cum wads followed, I managed to pull back a bit to keep myself from being drowned, and to swallow deeply as Jack went on unloading his juice into my belly. As the flow lessened I finally managed to pull back enough to capture some of the stream onto my tongue and let it fill my senses with its sweet musky taste. I didn't let go of him until he had started to go limp, pumping my own cock until I came right there on the floor. I collapsed into a contented heap at his feet, still reeling from the simmering heat of our encounter. 

"Oh, jeez," he gasped, slumping against the wall, "I can't believe I did that." 

"Intense, wasn't it?" I smiled with a devilish grin. "Sex is always better when there's a little bit of danger in it. . . . Oh, shit!" I said, pricking up my ears. "Unless I miss my guess, those klucky footsteps I'm hearing in the hall are the sound of Sean coming back." 

"What?" yelped Jack, casting a panicked look in my direction. 

"Quick, bro," I said, jumping to my feet, "get your shit and get the fuck into the bathroom right now!" 

I grabbed Jack's shirt while he yanked up his jeans and underwear, then I shoved him into the bathroom, quickly pulling the door shut. I beat a hasty retreat to my bed where I only just managed to pull on my briefs before the door swung open. 

"Oh-my-god!" said Sean in mock disbelief, as he entered the room. "Are you just now getting dressed? Just how late did you sleep anyway?" 

"Pretty late," I exhaled with a sigh, trying hard not to seem too winded or look too guilty. With all the nonchalance I could muster as Sean went to his bed and tossed his backpack onto it, I snatched a hand towel from the closet, bent down and swiped away the telltale evidence cum on the floor beside my bed. Sean with his customary self-absorption did not even notice what I was doing. 

"So how'd the meetings go?" I asked while pulling on my T-shirt and shorts. 

"OK, I guess, once I got past the mob scene in the hall over there. Anyway, I got a couple of extra assignments to do next week in addition to my regular study. It's gonna be one hell of a spring break." 

"I'm confident you'll still manage to find a little time for partying," I said with mock concern. "Maybe you can get Jack to help you." 

"Speaking of Jack, where is he? I saw his jeep downstairs in the parking lot." 

"In there," I said, indicating the bathroom. "He's using the head." 

"Yeah, that reminds me. He's been eanting me to see if I could talk you into coming along with us to South Padre. I know you have plans, but you might want to reconsider. It's going to be nothing but non-stop parties and fun in the sun. Why don't you pull your head out of those books and come along?" 

"He already asked me, and I told him I'm going to meet up with some of my old friends in Houston." 

"That's exactly what I said you'd say," said Sean with supreme confidence. "You're so predictable, Charlie. You'd rather go and hang out with our high school friends than have a wild time on Padre." 

"Yep, that's me: predictable. But one thing's for sure: Houston beats the hell out of dull old College Station." We both had a chuckle just as the toilet flushed and Jack emerged looking thoroughly guilty. Lucky for me, Sean was too much in his own world to notice. 

"Hey, babe, I tried," said Sean to Jack with a shrug. "It's like I said, nothing is gonna budge this one out of his precious Houston. You really do need to get out of those books and have some fun," Sean said to me as he moved toward his bed. 

"I'll keep that in mind," I said with a knowing smile as I tossed various items into a duffel bag. 

Sean and Jack gathered up his bags and made for the door. Sean gave me one final look of pity before exiting, gently shaking his head over a lost cause. "Well, have fun in the big city," he said before walking out. 

"Yeah, and you do the same on that beach," I called after. "Oh, and Jacko," I said, catching the eye of his very quiet boyfriend who was dutifully following him out. "Don't do anything down there I wouldn't do." 

Jack's cheeks reddened once again, but he did manage a weak smile before disappearing through the door. I wondered again if Sean would notice the extra color in his boyfriend's cheeks as they cruised down the highway toward the coast. "Not likely," I chuckled to myself as I continued to push stuff into the bag. Nevertheless, I was glad to have seen that smile on Jack's face on his way out. 

********** 

By noon I was on the highway heading south. The incident with Jack still had me buzzing, but for some reason, also feeling a little weird; so I called my best friend Dell to cheer me up. 

"OK, so let me get this straight," said Dell in a tone of voice I knew too well. "Spring break rolls around, and you decide that's the perfect time to start boffing your roommate's boyfriend. Did I get that right?" 

"Yeah, pretty much. And your point is-?" 

"No point, sweetie. I wouldn't dream of telling you what to do seeing as how you never listen to me anyway, but I was wondering when was it you went and completely lost your mind—that's all. In what universe is it a good idea to start doodling your roommate's honey? What could possibly go wrong with that?" 

"I'm not listening to you, Dell. I saw a chance to have a little fun with a good-looking dude and I took it." 

"Yes, you did—with the one guy who's other half could make your life miserable for the rest of the semester. But, like I said, far be it from me to lecture you—seeing as how you know everything already. Of course if I were to lecture you, I'd point out that that campus is chock full of hot men, and you chose to go for the one guy you shouldn't have." 

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Dell, lighten up. I guarantee Jack is not about to tell Sean what we did, and Sean's too self-absorbed to figure it out on his own. " 

"Well, supposing that's true, it still doesn't make it right." 

"Thank you, Mother Superior, for today's sermon, but I'm still not sorry. From the time he got there Jack was sending out signals—in that shy, sexy, laid-back way of his. You should see him, Dell: tall, tan and hunky. There must be something in the water in West Texas that makes them grow that tall." 

"Are you finished?" said Dell, still with the haughty tone. 

"Well, as a matter of fact, no. I called you for a little sympathy, and all you've been dishing out is a guilt trip." 

"What do you need sympathy for?" 

"I, uh, nothing in particular. I was just feeling a little down, that's all." 

"Really? Because I thought your head was up in the clouds from that little romp in the hay with the boyfriend." 

"It was great. I enjoyed it . . . but now that it's over, I was feeling a little lonely too." 

Dell sighed. "So are you really going to make me drag it out of you? Out with it, Charlie C. What the fuck is going on?" 

"Right before the thing with Jack, I talked to Trey. And he told me he's gotten back together with his old girlfriend." 

"Oh, my god. Trey—really? Well, that's interesting. According to you, the two of you broke up last year." 

"We did—more or less. I mean, we did technically break up when I came up here to College Station. But we've stayed in touch. Just as friends. We talk on the phone sometimes." 

Dell gave a little snort. "On the phone—is that all?" 

"OK, already. What's with the third degree? I also may have seen him a couple of times when I was back in Houston." 

"Yeah, like at New Year's." 

"You knew?" I gasped. 

"Well, I didn't know for an exact certainty . . . until this very instant—but I had my suspicions, especially when I called you three times on New Year's Eve and you didn't call me back until the next day." 

"So you knew. Why didn't you say something?" 

"I was just waiting for your sneaky little ass to tell me." 

I sighed. "You're so considerate. Remind me again why we're friends, Dell." 

"Well, besides practically growing up together, I'm the only one who wont go blabbing your secrets all over town. You on the other hand know you could never find a finer truer friend than me." 

"Thank you," I said drolly. "You are a legend . . . in your own mind. Seriously, Dell, just how screwed up am I? It's not like Trey and I were actually back together. I knew I had no claim on him. How can I be this upset over the fact that he's back with that girl Alli?" 

"Well, maybe you weren't as broken up as you thought you were. Can you truthfully say you weren't entertaining dreams of maybe getting back together with Trey once you'd convinced your dad to let you move back to town?" 

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably. Damn, you do know me too well." 

"Well, I've got a question for you. Now that Trey's out of the picture, are you still determined to get yourself back to Houston?" 

"More than ever. I can't exactly explain it, Dell, but I feel like I'm slowly choking to death up here—a little more every day. There's just something about this place. I really hate being here. And I can't really explain it except I didn't choose any of it. This—whole deal—was rammed down my throat like what I wanted didn't matter, like I didn't matter at all. You know, I always thought my dad totally got me and accepted me just the way I am. Now I'm not so sure." 

"Well, I'm sure we're gonna find a way to get you back to Houston where you belong. Your dad may think he's got the last word on this, but I'm telling you we're gonna show him a thing or two." 

"Damn right, we will . . . We'll show him plenty . . . or at least I will!" I declared with pretend vigor. "Don't worry, Dell, I'm ready for the talk. And now that that's settled, tell me something good and juicy to take my mind off all this shit with Dad and Trey. What about that R.A. guy you were just starting to get close to?" 

"Do you ever hear anything I say? It wasn't an R.A. It was a teaching assistant and he was in charge of my composition class. Talk about tall and hot. I'm telling you that West Texas boyfriend dude of yours has nothing on this guy." 

"Details. I want details, and hold nothing back. So what are we talking about when you say he's hot? Like Alex Pettyfer hot? Or Zac Efron? Or maybe even Liam Helmsworth?" 

"Zac Efron: You are so yesterday news," he said with a laugh. "We are going to have to get you out of that one-horse town. OK, so maybe Adam Driver. Or not. I don't know. He's definitely hot, that's all I know." 

"So have you two . . . you know, done the deed?" 

Dell giggled. "Did we ever. And I'm telling you, Charlie, it was hot. It was beyond hot." 

"Details." 

"As you know, I don't kiss and tell. But if I did it would blow your mind." 

"Hey, I told you about Jack, didn't I? So how did this thing even get started?" 

"It was perfectly innocent. As you know, I'm a pretty damn good writer. He liked one of my papers and asked me to come to his office and talk to him about it." 

"Alone in his office—you devil!" 

"Shut up, you idiot," yelped Dell, suddenly indignant. "He really does like the way I write. He's a journalism major and wanted to encourage me to go that way. Anyway, we started talking and hanging out and doing stuff like that." 

"Damn, that is innocent," I noted, with some disappointment. "So when did this thing turn interesting?" 

"Well, a couple of weeks ago, he asked me go for hamburger after class with him. It was no big deal, we'd done it before. Afterwards, though, instead of him taking off, he invited me a go for a ride with him on his motorbike out by the lake." 

"Now that's what I'm talking about." 

"Will you get your mind out of the gutter," said Dell. "It wasn't like that. He wanted to talk, really talk, about troubles he was having with his wife." 

"Wait," I gagged. "Did you say wife?" 

"Well, yeah, he's married, but his wife's a total bitch. She's making him miserable, so we went out to this quiet place and he poured out all this shit going on between them. I was just sitting there, being very sympathetic and understanding, mind you, and then something started to happen. He touched my hand, I touched his face, and the next thing you knew—we were kissing." 

"Kissing!" I said, barely able to contain myself. 

"Yeah," said Dell, his voice cloudy with emotion. "And not just any kissing. Hot kissing. The sort that leads to other things. And then, we were, well, doing a whole lot more than just kissing." 

"Oh. My. God. You hypocrite!" I yelled, now completely unable to contain myself. "Not ten minutes ago, you were all up in my business for messing around with my roommate's boyfriend, and now it comes out that you've been fucking around with somebody's goddamned husband!" 

Dell giggled. "Well, yeah, I can see how that might look a tad hypocritical." 

"Hypocrite! Hypocrite! Hypocrite!" 

"OK, calm down, sweetie. Hasn't anyone ever told you it's not very ladylike to spit into the phone?" 

"Shut the fuck up, you lying hypocrite. This is unforgivable, Dell. You actually had me feeling horrible for what I was doing to Sean. And all the while you knew you were doing something even worse." 

"Well, when you put it that way, I guess I was laying it on a little strong," said Dell in a contrite voice. "But you have to know, don't you, that I wasn't really serious. What do I care if you mess around with your roommate's boyfriend? Except I did mean that part about making sure he doesn't find out. That dude could make your life a holy hell." 

"Don't worry, he won't. Listen, it sounds to me like we could both stand to blow off a little steam. Why don't we get together tonight and hit a couple of clubs? We can dance all our troubles away." 

"I'm ready. What time?" 

"What?" 

"What time should we get together?" 

"Oh, uh, Dell, listen: I'm pulling into the driveway now and I'm going to have to get off the phone." 

"That's cool. Call me back when you get settled in." 

"What?" 

"I said call me back after you get unpacked. What the hell is wrong with you?" 

"Nothing, uh, but I really do have to hang up now. I'll call you back." 




Daddy Blue Pt. 01



I jumped out of the car and hurried across the lawn to an old pickup parked along the curb in front of my dad's house. As I approached, Trey got out of the truck and came around to meet me. 

"Guess you're sorta surprised to see me here—huh?" he asked. 

"You might say that," I said. "You sounded pretty final on the phone, Trey." 

"Yeah, well, that was the plan." 

Trey's dark eyes blazed with an intensity that both scared and excited me. It's funny. Normally, he was one of the most laid-back guys you'd ever want to meet. But on those rare occasions when his temper flared, it was like stirring up a volcano. The emotion that came churning out of him could be so raw that his whole demeanor would change and his body would shake with the fury of it. My guilty secret was that that was the side of him I loved the most. That was when he was at his most unpredictable and passionate. 

And then without warning, Trey reached out for me and pulled me to him. He started to kiss me before I broke free of him. 

"Are you crazy? What are you doing?" 

He reached for me again and gripped my arm. 

"What the fuck does it look like?" 

Once again he pulled me to him, and though I did stop him from kissing me, I did not attempt to break free. I wasn't looking to escape Trey, just to understand him. 

"Come inside," I said. 

"Ain't no time. I already been parked out here half an hour waiting for you. Any moment now my boss is gonna be calling wondering where the hell I am." 

"Just for a moment, Trey, come inside. We can't be doing this out here. There's nosey neighbors all over this block who'd like nothing better than to call my dad and report seeing me making out on the street with some guy." 

This time I took his arm and dragged him into the house. He still had this all-consuming, miserable, and yet somehow still incredibly sexy look on his face. Every time he looked at me my heart skipped a beat. 

"So what happened between this morning and now," I said once we were safely inside the foyer and away from the prying eyes of neighbors. But Trey was in no mood for explanations. Instead he pulled me to him and began pressing a hard insistent kiss onto my lips. For my part I was in no mood to resist this man whose kisses had always thrilled me. Seconds later Trey began yanking at my T-shirt and soon had it off. I began quickly undoing the buttons on his work shirt. 

"For god's sake, Trey—" 

"Listen to me. This can't get back to Alli—you understand? I told her I was through with this gay stuff. She made me promise to never see you again. Dammit, Charlie, how come all you have to do is call and I come runnin'?" 

"Because you belong with me and not her," I blurted out, just as caught up in the fever of the moment as Trey. I knew he was touchy about the subject of his old girlfriend, but I didn't care. I wanted him, and I wanted him to know just how much I wanted him. Trey was the only guy I'd ever known who had this maddening effect on me. It became suddenly clear to me that Trey was the main reason I wanted to move back to Houston. Of course I missed my home, my friends, my dad. I missed all these things badly, but nothing even came close to the longing I felt for Trey. And somehow, being away from him for these last few months had only seemed to make the feeling grow stronger. 

We were pressed together, kissing, touching, our hands roaming over each other's body. I kicked off my shoes while Trey hurriedly loosened the laces and shucked his work boots. We wasted no time shedding our jeans and now faced each other in our underwear. Those didn't last long either as we shoved them off and fell into another heated embrace. 

When Trey backed me against the front door still kissing me, I realized we had made it no further than two feet inside the house before tearing into each other. And now here we were, nakedly making out in the narrow foyer. 

"Trey, come inside," I said pushing against him, trying to guide him into the open area of the living/dining room. But he was having no part of it, and pushed back, once again jamming me into the door as he leaned into me, covering me with his hot body. 

"Damn, I missed you," he murmured, his mouth trailing away from mine and down my neck to my shoulder and tits. "Just hearing you today, the way you sound and talk. Goddammit, it put me in mind of you, how you taste, and feel. I swear you're in my blood." 

"Me too, Trey. I feel the same." 

Trey's lean body was the perfect fit for me as it coiled itself around me like some sensuous snake preparing to consume me. As for that ultimate snake, his cock, I could feel its full thick length pressing into me, jabbing at my crotch and my own achingly hard member. 

"Please, Trey, let's go upstairs," I moaned in his grasp as he bit into one of my tits, making me shiver. Damn, how I longed to feel the weight of him on top of me. 

"I can't, Charlie. I gotta get back . . ." 

Well, no way was I going to let that happen. Now that I had him back, I wasn't about to let him slip away again. I wriggled free and slid down the length of Trey's sleek, golden brown torso. Even with the slight whiff of motor oil clinging to him, Trey's body smelt warm, earthy and sweet, and his skin tasted of the musky salty residue of a man's sweat. I licked my way down to his pubic bush, where the scent of his musky sweat was even stronger. Trey groaned when I sucked the head of his prodigious dick into my mouth. Unlike a lot of guys Trey tended to respond right away when you touched him. It was just one of the many things I really loved about sexing this man. With Trey everything was right out there in the open. Nothing was held back. 

"Oh, fuck, yeah, baby, you do that so good," he cooed as I sucked his cock even deeper into my mouth. I wrapped my hands around his firm thighs and pulled him to me, letting the thick brown length slide easily into my throat. As I closed my throat muscles around his cock, I felt a groan go through him right down into his legs. Trey never talked about his time with Alli, but I'd be willing to bet she never sucked him like this or caressed him or made him feel this wanted. 

You could have knocked me over with a feather that first time when Trey told me I was the very first man he had ever been with. But being a naturally competitive person, I took it as a personal challenge to make this beautiful man forget every woman he had ever fucked. Practically speaking, I knew that wasn't possible, but I sure as heck did love throwing myself into the effort. Every time I climbed in bed with Trey, it was with the singular intent of ruining him forever for women. 

"Goddammit, Charlie," he growled as I swallowed him nearly to his balls. I held him tight as he shuddered in my grasp, then slowly eased back to get some air. His cock was shiny with a fulsome coating of slaver and precum. I sensuously licked all around it, again enjoying the musky taste, and then brought it back into my mouth. My hands ran the length of his long legs until they clipped the smooth end of his wonderfully muscular ass. Trey quivered again when I ran my fingers over his ass. He was intensely turned on. He began to rhythmically rock his cock in and out of my throat. His fuckstrokes increased in urgency and grew more insistent as he tightened his grip on the back of my head. Normally I loved it when he took me in hand like this, but he was moving too quick, thrusting into me before I had a chance to ready myself or breathe deeply enough to receive such a pounding. Finally I had to slow him down. 

"Easy there, tiger," I sputtered, separating from him for just a moment. After grabbing a couple of quick breaths I attempted to take his cock back into my mouth, but he stopped me. I glanced up at him and was surprised by the troubled expression that greeted me. 

"Trey, are you mad at me?" 

Instead of answering he jammed his cock back into me with a roughness that shocked me. Not only that, but he attempted to cram the whole thing down my throat in one hard jab, and I was forced to push him off. 

"Fuck it, Trey. What's up with you?" 

"Just giving you what you want," he muttered, leaning into me and pushing me flat onto the carpeted floor. He used one hand to hold me down while he wetted a couple of fingers on his other hand and slid them into my ass. He wasn't gentle at all which caused me to gasp at the sudden intrusion into my hole. 

"Jesus, Trey. Wait—" 

"Not this time, Charley You're not callin' the shots." 

No doubt about it, Trey was angry and more impatient than I had ever seen him. And I am ashamed to say I was really starting to groove on this harder, rougher, more aggressive Trey. The fact is if there was one thing I would've changed about the sweet-natured, easygoing young man I had known over the past two years, it would have been to make him a little less easygoing and a little more aggressive. There had even been times when I'd tried to goad him into a little aggression, but it had rarely worked. And now that I wasn't even trying, here he was as demanding as I'd ever seen him, and I was totally loving it. 

Trey slurped even more spit onto his fingers and roughly worked them into me, making me call out. And though I gasped, he didn't stop. I guess he could see just how turned on I was. After a few minutes of this, he shifted around in the narrow passageway of the foyer, grabbed my legs and began lifting them. I didn't resist when he positioned his steel-hard cock right on top of my ass and began pressing it against the opening. 

"Trey, easy," I tried to warn but he was having none of it. Like a man on a mission, he went right on poking my divide until he found my sphincter and jabbed it hard. 

"Fuck, Trey!" 

I was trying my best to relax, let him in, but he wasn't giving me time. When he jabbed me again I froze up. Amazingly that didn't faze Trey who inserted a couple of fingers into my ass, loosened me up some more, and then expertly used those same fingers to begin guiding his massive fuckpiece into my hole. I sucked some deep breaths and tried to calm my pounding heart as he penetrated me inch by inch. Dammit, you want this, I kept telling myself, but it was proving to be pretty damn hard to get that message through to my anxious butt. In the end, though, it didn't really matter how tense I was because Trey was in no mood to be denied. 

He pressed firmly against my ass-ring and opened me up like a ripe melon. When he finally did hit bottom we both let loose with a loud sigh. 

"Goddamn, you feel good," he exhaled. 

"You too," I confessed, despite the burning in my butt. It was true. I could feel Trey warming me right down to my toes, and now all I wanted was more of him. 

"Fuck me. Please." 

He began pulsing his rod in and out of me in slow even bursts. Even though I knew Trey was only penetrating half-way, his cock was so long and powerful that I could still feel him plumbing the deepest parts of my ass. Finally I was relaxing, surrendering myself to an even deeper fucking. And though I knew full well what was coming, it made it no less exciting and even thrilling to feel this man deep inside me. Part of the magic of Trey was that he hardly seemed to be moving at all; he certainly wasn't straining the way so many guys seemed to when they fucked you. And sometimes he didn't move at all, or at least didn't seem to, but I swear I could still feel him swimming inside me and setting off a cascade of sparks. 

One of the sexiest things about Trey was that he was older than me, by a full seven years. I know that a lot of guys my age—nineteen—find age a turn-off. But for me it was just the opposite. I was always the one in my group fantasizing about my teachers while the rest of my friends were rattling on about some good-looking half-wit jock or jerk. I met Trey at a party and thought this mature-looking dude was the hottest piece of manflesh I'd ever seen. I was so turned on by him that I totally ignored the warnings of Dell and others to stay away from him. They said that Trey was totally straight and unavailable, but I made a play for him anyway. And to my absolute shock I got him. 

Trey was fully engaged now, his whole body stretching forward to fill me with one hard stroke after another. I held onto him, feeling the natural ebb and flow of his body against mine, feeling the flex of his lean hard muscles as they moved under his skin, and then feeling the smooth rise and fall of his hips as they delivered his wonderfully hot dick deep into my bumhole. 

"Oh, God, yeah, Trey. Fuck yeah. Like that." 

I was moaning and mumbling shamelessly as he continued his heated assault on my body. Trey was really starting to go at it, balancing over me, and slamming some pretty fearsome fuckstrokes into me. After all these months without him, this hammering felt good, just what I wanted, like relief from a drought. But I recognized Trey was pushing hard, pounding even, and this kind of urgency wasn't really like him. But, heck, I didn't care. I'd thought I wouldn't have a chance to see him, maybe never again, and here he was, once again with me, in me, slicing me open with his hot steelly lance. I was practically floating on a cloud. 

"It's what you want, this cock—right?" 

"Yeah. Exactly what I want." 

"No shit. I can feel it. Goddamn, I can feel your cunt grabbin' me. Suckin' my cock. Can't get enough." 

I almost laughed at that. It seemed crazy, him saying I was grabbing and holding him, while it felt like I was being ripped open by his cock. Trey was on his haunches now, using the power of his legs to drive into me, like he was trying to drive a stake through my heart. Meanwhile, our heavy grunts and groans were echoing through the house, matched only by the steady drumbeat of our bodies slamming together, the relentless slapping of his sweaty cock and balls on my equally sweaty ass. 

Caught up in this roiling fuck-storm of sex, my head was swimming and spinning like a top. I pulled him closer. So determined was I to hold onto him that I barely noticed that I had started to shoot until suddenly I was right in the middle of it.  

"Oh fuck! Trey, I'm cumming . . ." 

"Yeah, give it up. Shoot it, you little slut." 

Trey slowed his relentless fucking without actually stopping, his eyes locked on me and burning like coals. He was holding my legs up and my body tilted in such a way that a steam of the white stuff splattered over my belly and ran down my chest. I was gasping and twisting in his grasp as my orgasm continued to shake me. 

Trey picked up the pace again, slamming me harder than ever. And then after only a few hard strokes I felt him go slack and choke. I knew what that meant. 

"Yeah, Trey, come on. Let me have it." 

He was so deep into it I doubt if he heard me. He was growling now, plowing forward, and attempting to drive his exploding dick right through my body. Any thought he was over me and didn't miss me were completely swept away when I saw the huge release that gripped him. Sweat broke out across his brow as he roared and bucked into me, churning my guts. I swear I could feel the cum bullets peppering my insides and warming me all over. I steadied myself by grabbing his straining thighs. 

"Fuckin' shitt," he mumbled as he gave one last gasp and pulled out of me. Once again I was confused. We had just had fearsome awesome sex, the type that had brought us together in the first place, and now suddenly it seemed like Trey was mad again. I reached out for him but he pulled away. 

"Trey . . ." 

"Gotta go," he snapped with a shake of his head and scrambled to his feet. He was still winded, still sweating even, but took no time to recover. Instead he started pulling on his clothes like he couldn't get away from me fast enough. 

"Trey, wait. I don't understand." 

"Can't you get it through your head? I'm late, Charley. Gotta get back to the garage." 

"Then come back later. After work." 

"You just don't get it, do you? This here, what we just did, doesn't mean a thing. It was just something that happened. Yeah, I know. I shoulda never come over here. It won't happen again." 

"Why not? I want it to happen again." 

"Goddammit, Charlie." 

"Are you really going back to her? Why? You're better with me." 

"Stop right there, you little fuck. I decide where I belong, not you. I can't believe how you turn me around. On day I'm fine, getting along, not a care in the world. The next thing I know, you call—and suddenly my head is full of you again. Do me a favor, Charlie. The next time you get the urge to call me—don't." 

He slammed the door and was gone. I felt—shell-shocked, confused, and pretty much like someone who had just had his heart ripped out of him. I wasn't even sure exactly what had happened. But there was one thing I did know: I wanted Trey back now more than ever. And the realization that I might never have him left me more than a little depressed. 

I dragged myself up my old room and took a nice long hot shower, and flung myself onto the bed and drifted off into a short nap. I woke up an hour or so later still feeling down. I remembered Dell's idea to go out so I rang him up. As far as I was concerned, the sooner we hit some clubs, the better. 

"Whatcha up to?" I inquired. 

"Just chillin'," he crooned, sounding like I might have wakened him from his own nap. 

"Well, get up, sleepy head," I chided, trying to put some liveliness in my own voice. "I do believe we have a rockin' evening to plan." 

"We do? Really? Well, somebody's in a good mood. Earlier it sounded like you were about to blow me off." 

"Well, forget that. I'm in the mood now. I want to go somewhere loud, and hopping, and loaded with lots of cute available men." 

"Oooo, me likey the sound of that. Finally, you're starting to sound like your old self." 

"Well, it is spring break after all. And I'm not about to waste it dragging around the house waiting for something that may never happen. So, let's get this party in gear. You with me?" 

"Totally. And I know just the places to go. We'll start off at the Metronome on Montrose. That place is always on fire on a Friday night. We kick up a little dust there, check out the crowd, and then head downtown to this happenin' little club I just happen to know about. Actually, it only been open a week or so, and already anybody who's anybody is going there." 

I laughed. "Good old reliable Dell. Nothing happens on the Houston gay scene that you don't know about. Now I'm starting to remember why I've missed you so much, and why I've been so miserable in boring old College Station. Talk about a one horse town." 

"Banish that place from your mind. For the next week, you and me, we're on vacation. That means no talk about school or work or anything else but having a good time. I am awfully glad you called me back Charlie. I know it's my imagination, but right after you hung up, I got a funny feeling that something was going on with you. It made me wonder if you were thinking about calling Trey again." 

"That's over, Dell. I won't be calling him anymore." 

"How can you be so sure? I mean, who knows if this thing with his girlfriend is even going to work out. And suppose he calls you. What would you do then?" 

I sighed and then gritted my teeth. "For Pete's sake, Dell, give me a fucking break! Whatever happened to your resolution about not talking about anything depressing? I think this qualifies." 

"Yeah, you're right. I just . . . got a funny feeling. It's gone now. So, do you want to get together for dinner, or just meet up later at the club?" 

"Dinner sounds nice," I cooed into the phone, suddenly hungry. Other than peanut butter crackers procured from a vending machine, I hadn't touched food all day. "I could go for Italian . . . except I just recalled I'm totally tapped out." 




Daddy Blue Pt. 01



"No problemo. I'll front you the money and you can pay me back later after you hit up your dad for some dough." 

"Like I'm gonna wait for that. I'll do what I always do when I arrive home broke—which is sadly most of the time. They don't pay squat at that library. Anyway, I'm going to raid my daddy's stash." 

"Say what?" 

I had to laugh at the sound of absolute shock in Dell's voice. "It's not what you think. That's what I call the roll of bills he keeps rolled up in a sock in his underwear drawer. You know how old fashioned my dad is. Even though he's a cop, he's paranoid about carrying a lot of cash around with him. So he keeps a couple of hundred dollars rolled up in that sock for forever comes up. It's nothing new. I've been pilfering from that stash for years, whenever I'm running low." 

"And he never noticed?" 

"I keep trying to tell you, Dell: Despite what you may think, my dad is really the most trusting guy in the world. That's why he's always giving away money to people on the street. I don't think it has ever occurred to him to count the cash in his drawer. But I'm no fool. I only take a little at a time: twenty, thirty, fifty, tops. Just so it doesn't register on him." 

"I don't want to tell you your business," cautioned Dell. "But considering what a total raving freak your dad can be, I don't think that sounds very smart. I know that if my dad ever caught me sneaking money out of his wallet, they'd still be scraping me off the ceiling the next day." 

"Well, Dell, that's because your dad is a total raving psycho when it comes to money. My dad is nothing like that. Even when I go to him and actually ask for money he usually just forks it over—no questions asked." 

"You're kidding. You're saying if you went to ask and asked for five hundred zillion bucks he wouldn't want to know what it was for?" 

"Don't be ridiculous, you fool. You know what I mean. If I go to him as ask for a little spending money, he'll shrug and hand it over. Really, he's just a big softie. He caves on everything." 

"Yeah, like how he caved when you said you wanted to go to UH." 

"Fine. There is that one time," I sighed. 

"I think what surprises me most, Charlie, is how you go on defending him even after he shot down your big dream of going to the school of your choice. Heck, I'm still punishing my dad for making me wait a year to get me a car back when I turned sixteen and got my license. And he even apologized saying he just couldn't afford it at the time." 

"And that's because you're a totally rotten human being. I can't even imagine doing that to my dad: make him feel bad for something he couldn't help. We're too close for that." 

"Because of your mom's leaving, huh," said Dell. 

"Yeah. I was barely five when she up and left, just decided to take off without so much as a goodbye. She told my dad she just couldn't take it—wasn't cut out for domestic life. I've never been able to figure out what kind of a person does that: just gets up one day and decides to walk out on her own kid. It can really mess you up you up to go through a thing like that. For a long time I kept asking my dad, 'You're not going to leave too—are you?'" 

"I know how the story goes, Charlie: About how he took lots of time off from his job to help you adjust, and how he sat up lots of nights with you until you fell asleep, and never once lost his temper even when you had all those troubles in school. I get the drift: He walks on water." 

"OK, so maybe I do idolize him a bit. But I still say he deserves it. A kid in that situation pretty much needs a perfect father, and lucky for me I had one. You left out the hardest part he had to handle: a nerdy, sissy, loud-mouth kid who decided he was gay in the fifth grade and proceeded to tell the whole school about it. As you know, that led to nothing but grief for me. For a while there, I was into a fight just about every week; and when the principal threatened to suspend me, my dad marched right up to him and told him not only was he NOT going to suspend me, he was going to start sensitivity training for the entire school so that LGBT kids didn't have to go through what I was going through. Sounds like a hero to me." 

"Yeah, that was pretty cool," said Dell. "He's a good guy, but not even he is goddamn perfect. Until you stand up to him—and I don't mean the half-ass stuff you've been doing up until now, Charlie—he's not gonna respect you. You need to make him see you as something other than just a little kid." 

"I suppose you're right," I sighed ruefully 

"So it's settled then," added Dell. "This time, you're really gonna do it. No more messing around and losing heart, no more letting him put you off with a lot of excuses. You're gonna corner him, sit him down, and let him have it with both barrels!" 

"For Pete's sake, Dell, chill, will you? I'm not gonna shoot him. I'm going to sit him down and have a nice grown-up conversation about how this thing with A&M is not working out. He told me if I stuck it out for a year and really didn't like it, we could talk it over. Well, time's up. A year has passed, or almost passed, and I'm as antsy as ever to break out of A&M hell." 

"Amen," chimed Dell. "Let him have it." 

"I will, but don't expect me to attack him. He took care of me when I needed it, and I have to care of him, too. It's not easy being a cop and raising a kid alone. After Mom left he didn't have much of a personal life, at least not for a long time. I've always felt responsible for that, even though of course it wasn't my fault. I know I have to find a way to separate myself from him, and make him respect me as a grown-up, but I have to do that while still looking out for him." 

"Poor Charliekins, you really are in a bind, aren't you. You know, he's a forty-year-old man. He doesn't need a mother." 

"I know, but he could sure use a girlfriend." 

"A girlfriend, yeah—so then he'd have somebody to focus on besides you." 

"No, you idiot. So that then he wouldn't be alone in this house, now that I'm gone. Like I said, I worry about him." 

"Well, that's sweet, Charlie, but I'm warning you: You go into that conversation with this I've-gotta-take-care-of-you-Daddy attitude and he is going to eat you alive." 

"Honestly, Dell, where did you get this negative impression of my dad? He's nothing like that." 

"I suppose you don't see it because you're so close to him, but he can be pretty intimidating. Like back when he couldn't find you, he used to call me up and start cross-examining me, wanting me to rat on you. I'm telling you, Charlie, when he wants to, that dude can be downright scary. The way he was coming at me, with all those questions, I got so rattled, I swear I was ready to confess to murder to make him stop." 

I had to chuckle at the image Dell was painting of my dad. "Poor little Dell. Did he hurt your feelings?" 

"It's not a joke, Charlie. There are times when I think your dad is a total psycho." 

"He is not. He just gets a little intense sometimes. Look, I told you how to handle that cross-examination thing when he goes into cop mode. Just refuse to play the game. Whenever he tried that on me, I'd just sit there like a stony statue and stare at him until he ran out of gas, then calmly as you please I'd say I'm not a perp. Please stop treating me like I was one." 

"This is classic stuff, Charlie. Come on, don't you think that this thing you have for bad boys—like Trey—has at least a little something to do with the fact that your dad is a cop?" 

"Where do you get this stuff, Dell? I liked Trey because he was sexy and cute. How does that have anything to do with my dad?" 

"It's pure rebellion—like when teachers' sons and preachers' sons start acting up. The last thing you want to be called is a goody two-shoes. Plus, as I recall, Trey happens to have a criminal record, doesn't he?" 

"Big deal. He spent a year in the county lockup for boosting a car with a couple of his buddies right out of high school. It was just stupid kid stuff. What does it have to do with anything?" 

"But, as I recall, you wouldn't have known that if not for your dad." 

"Yeah, that was weird. A couple of months after Trey and I started dating, my dad went behind my back and had a criminal check run on him, completely without my knowledge. I swear I've never been more mad at him for anything than that. Heck, I still am. I know Trey would have gotten around to telling me about that eventually. What's your point?" 

"That it's stuff like that that makes him a bad boy, and as far as you're concerned, the badder the better. And when are you going to stop pretending that it doesn't turn you on to know your dad doesn't approve of the guy." 

"What crap. My dad never approved of any of the guys I liked." 

"Precisely, because they were all bad boys." 

"Agh, Dell! You drive me nuts sometimes. Just because I don't want someone like my dad doesn't mean I only like bad boys. See, the issue here isn't the type of guys I like, it more the type I don't like. And I'm just not interested in the nice, clean-cut, Mr. Stand-up, straight-arrow types. And before you take this too far, remember you don't like them either." 

"OK, I give up," giggled Dell. "When it comes to the subject of your dad, you'll never give an inch. So how about tonight? Where are we going to eat?" 

"That depends," I said as I jumped off the bed and headed down the hall to my dad's room. "It totally depends on how much money my dad is willing to 'loan' me for tonight." 

"Well, I hope he's feeling generous," joked Dell. 

"He is," I said smiling as I entered the master bedroom. I was always amused to see how neat and put-together my dad kept his room. Even the damn bed was neatly made. How come I didn't inherit some of that neatness? 

"Found it," I announced into the phone when I located the white athletic sock with the thick roll in it. I lay the phone down on top of the chest and slid the bills out. After peeling off a fifty and a twenty for me, I reinserted the roll in the sock and carefully placed it back where I'd found it, tucked among the neatly folded socks and boxers at the back of the drawer. 

It was then I noticed something else, partially concealed under a stack of underwear. I pulled it out. 

"What the hell?" I muttered, staring at the object. 

"What?" asked Dell, still on the line. 

"I'm not sure. Some kind of CD in here; you know, the personal type, with a hand-printed label on it: 'Playtime in Todd's Crib.'" 

"Todd who? Do I know him?" 

"No, but I do. He's one of Dad's cop friends, from the stationhouse. They started hanging out a couple of years ago while I was still in eleventh grade. I always thought he was a little strange." 

"Really?" said Dell, his curiosity rising. "So why have I not heard about him before?" 

"For Pete's sake, Dell, he's Dad's friend, not mine. And until last summer right before I left for college, I really didn't see that much of him. Like Dad, he's a single guy and they liked to go out on weekends and hang out in old guy bars, listening to jazz and shooting pool." 

Dell chuckled. "Ooo, that sounds cozy. Maybe that's why your dad couldn't get a girlfriend. He already had a boyfriend." 

"Shut up, you moron. I don't know why I tell you anything. But I have to admit this guy Todd is sort of interesting—you know, for a cop. He's a lot younger than my dad, late twenties I think, and a lot of the cops down at the stationhouse don't like him." 

"Really? Why not?" 

"If you ever met him I think you'd know. This guy just doesn't look like a cop. He came into the department a few years ago, and looked so young that right away they put him into undercover and sent him into the schools as a mole, sniffing out drugs." 

"Wow," said Dell. "That is sorta interesting. So he was like a spy or a snitch?" 

"Exactly. They say he looked so young he could pass as a high school student, no questions asked. Of course that was then. He's older now, but he still mostly does undercover because he's so laid-back looking. Longish red-blond hair. Sideburns. A goatee. Even tatts on both arms." 

"Are you sure he's a cop?" asked Dell incredulously. 

I had to laugh. "Well, that's just it. A lot of the regular, older ones don't think he's much of a cop. And I happen to know for a fact that he's quite the lounge lizard. I think that's what appealed to my dad. He had just turned forty, and was feeling sorta old and out-of-it. So he started running with Todd to get back his groove and start having an honest-to-God social life. I have to confess I encouraged him to do it." 

"Hm . . . so why do I get the feeling you're not telling me everything?" 

When I didn't answer Dell knew something was up. "Do you really think you can keep a secret from me? Out with it, Charlie. There's something about this guy you don't like." 

"That's not true. I like him fine. I just don't trust him." 

"Because . . ." 

"Well, there's his reputation for one thing. I mean, I don't really care what kind of reputation he has, but it does seem strange a guy like that would be hanging out with my dad. OK, and before you ask . . . he has a reputation as a junkyard dog." 

"Oh. My. God," gasped Dell. "I can't believe you've been keeping this juicy stuff from me. OK, tell me everything." 

"OK. In cop talk, a junkyard dog is basically someone who will stick his dick in any available hole. It doesn't matter who." 

"You mean . . ." 

"Exactly." 

"Well, you're right. That really doesn't sound like the sorta guy your dad would be hanging with. So how do you know all this?" 

"I admit I'm not beyond doing a little eavesdropping," I said. "And just like everybody else, cops do love to talk. Whenever I hear my dad talking to some of his cop buddies, I always keep my ears open." 

"And what's wrong with a little eavesdropping? I do it all the time. So what do you think that tape means, 'Playtime in Todd's Crib'?" 

"Hell if I know. But I sure as heck intend to find out. One more thing, Dell: Last summer while I was hanging around here waiting for college to start, Todd actually came up to me one night and asked me out. That's when I learned he wasn't exactly straight." 

"Wait! He's gay?" 

"Probably more like bisexual—like Trey." 

"So what happened exactly?" 

"Well, like I said, it was late summer. By then Dad and Todd were hanging out most weekends. One Saturday night they were here watching TV or something, and I was up in my room on my laptop. At some point I just happen to look up and there he was, Todd standing in the doorway, just kind of watching me." 

"Creepy, huh?" 

"No, just a little surprising. Todd and I hadn't exchanged a dozen words before that, and now suddenly he was in my room. OK, I guess that was a little strange." 

"Then what?" 

"He came in, smiling a lot, like he always does, and chatting, acting real friendly-like. And yes, now that I think about it, it did seem kinda strange. I wondered what he was up to. After a few minutes he got to the point. Now that I was 18 and all legal and everything, he said, he didn't see me as a kid anymore. That's when he asked me out." 

"Just like that." 

"Yep, pretty much, though I admit he was pretty smooth about it. If that dude is a dog, I'm willing to bet he gets a lot of tail. Up until that moment, I hadn't thought two cents about him, one way or another. He wasn't bad-looking, just nothing special. But in that moment, Dell, I realized this guy could honestly be considered sort of a hunk. If Trey and I weren't already together at the time, I think I would have gone out with him." 

"And I'm sure that would have made Papa real happy." 

I gave a hearty laugh. "I think we both know how Dad would've taken it. Can you imagine me telling my upright, straight-arrow dad that I was going out with a guy ten years older than me with a reputation as a dog? It would've been the beginning of a World War III." 

"Oh, you are bad," laughed Dell. "Damn, I wish you would've done it just to see how your dad would've reacted, with me around to witness the fallout, of course. But I suppose hanging with ex-con Trey had already caused you enough trouble for one summer, huh. OK, so what happened with this guy Todd? Was that the end of it?" 

"Pretty much. He did give me a card with his name on it, and said to call him if I ever changed my mind. And that was the extent of it." 

"Too bad," joked Dell. "Talk about the ultimate bad boy. With him you could have indulged all your fantasies." 

"Shut up, Dell. The only thing that interests me about Todd is what's on this disc." 

I hurried downstairs to the den to pop the disc in the DVD player. I started to hang up on Dell, but he all but threatened to kill me if I didn't keep on the line and give a blow-by-blow description of whatever was on the tape. I put him on speaker and laid the phone on the coffee table. 

"You're going to be disappointed," I warned. "Knowing these guys, it's probably just boring images of them playing poker or watching the Super Bowl." 

"Nice try, Charlie C, but I can tell by your voice you're as curious as I am to see what's on this thing. You really were turned on by that dude, weren't you?" 

"I was not. I just said that to get a rise out of you. To tell the truth, he was a little smarmy for my taste. But if you're so all-fired curious, I can always call him up and fix you up." 

The video started up. No big surprise. The film was a piece of schlock: Poorly lit. Mediocre sound quality. Focus was off until Todd popped into view and fixed it. It was fairly obvious the camcorder was mounted onto a tripod and it was pointed at . . . huge surprise! His bed. So this little feature really was set up in Todd's "crib," and this setup was pretty obviously the boy cop's amateur attempt at a fuck film. 

In thinking back over my impressions of Todd, I can't say I was all that surprised. He had a certain way of looking and dressing and acting that suggested he was probably up for anything, and the fact he would try something like this fell right into place. But if I wasn't overcome with shock, poor Dell was. 

"You're not really serious, are you?" he yelped. "A porno? For goodness sake, Charlie, he's a cop. Aren't there like laws against cops doing that sort of thing?" 

"Probably not more than for anyone else," I said. "Strictly speaking I don't think it's technically illegal for any consenting adults, especially if they're not trying to sell it. But I'm pretty sure he could get fired for something like this. Cops have a pretty tough morals code." 

"Wait, dammit—shush!" I said, suddenly hearing the faint sounds of voices whispering off camera. Todd, having fixed the focus, had disappeared behind the lens and was arguing in a loud whisper with someone also unseen. I strained to hear what was being said but the sound was just too muffled. 

"This is too weird," I snickered to Dell. "I think Todd's partner is getting cold feet about going through with the scene. Knowing him, he probably didn't spring this on the poor girl until the last minute. But ten gets you one he's done this with other girls, and maybe even guys. Jesus, Todd really is a junkyard dog." 

"A perv is what he is," contributed Dell. 

Perv or not, what was pretty clear was that Todd was lit, high or drunk or both. I could hear him giggling, teasing and poking fun at his unseen partner. And then suddenly Todd reappeared in front of the camera, still laughing and as naked as the day he was born. 

"Fucking shit!" I gasped. 

"What?" said Dell. 

"Dell, he just came back on an he's completely—naked." 

"Oh fuck no!" yelped Dell. 

"I'm not kidding. And I think he's motioning for his girlfriend to come out and join him." 

"So, tell me: How does he look—y'know, naked?" 




Daddy Blue Pt. 01



"Jesus, Dell, you've seen naked guys before." 

"Not cops, I haven't. So is he like. . . you know . . . well-equipped?" 

"It's too early to tell. But he sure is feeling no pain. He hasn't stopped laughing." 

"Oh, god. I can't believe I'm missing this." 

This was pretty amazing, seeing someone I knew standing right there on my screen, bare-assed, cock-in-the-wind naked. And all in all, Todd seemed pretty damned comfortable showing himself off like that. Damn, I thought, now this really does take guts. I couldn't help but admire the guy for literally having the balls to do it, and along with that admiration came a certain amount of attraction. Dell was right. Todd really was a bad boy. 

And then another shocker: Todd's unseen partner finally strode on screen, and instead of a woman it was a man. Once again I caught my breath. I know this shouldn't have shocked me, but somehow it did, not in small part because this guy, wearing nothing but a pair of silky blue boxers, was impressive: tall, muscular and well-built. 

"Dammit, what's happening?" yelled Dell. 

"Brace yourself, Dell. It's a guy. He's gonna fucking make it with a guy." 

"Oh, god! Oh, god! I can't believe I'm missing this. So, I mean, come on, spill it. What does this guy look like?" 

"Pretty damned good, from what I can see, but I can't see all of him. He and Todd are standing too close to the camera and the guy's head is cut off. He's tall, taller even than Todd. And his body is like incredible." 

"Is he naked too?" 

"Nah, he's wearing boxers." 

I went on to give Dell a quick rundown of the new guy, who all-in-all was quite a physical specimen. Squared shoulders. Muscular arms and legs. Delts that tapered down to a slender waist. Olive complexion. Damn, just about everything about this guy shouted real man, right down to the swagger in his walk. He seemed older than Todd, though by how much I couldn't be sure. In aiming the camcorder at his bed, that idiot Todd had managed to miss everything about the new guy above the shoulders. I did catch sight of a tattoo on the guy's right biceps—something with wings like a bird or maybe an angel—but I couldn't quite make it out before he turned to face Todd. 

The effect he had on the young cop was nothing short of amazing. Todd seemed positively mesmerized by the guy—and who could blame him? Todd's cock sprang to attention as he dropped to his knees and began tugging down the man's shorts. On his face was this look of total lust, and I could hear his breathing growing heavier. Then I saw why. Out of the boxers sprang this beautiful slice of pure manmeat. Even half-hard it was magnificent, long, full, and etched in veins, topped by a crimson head that tapered to a point like a glowing sword. Todd seemed to lose all control at the sight of it and lunged forward, catching it on his tongue and immediately swallowing nearly half of it in one greedy gulp. Chaos ensued: The man growled, Todd gurgled, I yelped, and Dell screamed, apparently reacting to the commotion coming through the phone. 

Still growling the man forced Todd off his cock and shoved him back, almost knocking the junior cop over. If this reaction bothered Todd, it didn't show in the least. In fact, the damned fool came up laughing as if it had all been a big joke. As for me, I swallowed hard and slid to the edge of the sofa, and froze there in rapt suspense. 

The man spit out a string of obscenities. "Goddamn fucking shit! What the hell was that, you motherfucker? You were supposed to start out slow and easy." 

"You're right," grinned Todd, sitting back on his haunches and wiping drool off his chin. "That was on me. I fucked up. But I couldn't help it, man. That tool of yours just looked too damned appetizing." 

"Listen to me, you douchebag. I only agreed to do this under certain conditions—so stick to the goddamn script! We simpatico?" 

"Sure, man. Anything you say. Like you said, it's your show. I'm just along for the ride." 

By now, every word the man said was going through me like thunderbolts, not because I was even listening any longer to what he said, but because now I knew exactly who he was. On the screen, Todd happened to glance over at the camera and saw the framing was off. He scrambled over and adjusted for a wider view, and thereby revealed what I already knew: the guy up there upon the screen with him was none other than my very own father. The clues had been there all along. How could I have missed them? The olive complexion, mark of our Greek heritage. The muscular frame, the result of years of regular workouts in the police gym. The soaring eagle tattoo, a memento of Dad's early years as a marine. And even those damned blue boxers. My dad's favorite color was true-blue, navy blue. 

"For Christ' sake, Charlie, answer me. What the holy hell is going on there?" 

I roused myself out of my stupor and heard Dell yelling at me. I had zoned out for several minutes and poor Dell probably thought I had gone into cardiac arrest or something. 

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." 

"What? Tell me." 

"Just get over here, Dell. Right now." 

The phone went dead, and I knew—I knew it as well as I knew my name—that I should have stopped that tape right there and waited for Dell. But I couldn't wait. I had already seen too much and felt too much to wait one second longer to see how this all played out. I was as mesmerized by the man on the screen as Todd was, and nothing could have torn me away from his grasp. 

By now, Todd was going gangbusters on my dad's dick. And no wonder. In mere seconds it had gone from sluggish snake to a full-blown, purple-headed monster. Already huge, in Todd's hands it seemed to be growing even larger. For a half-straight guy Todd was doing a passably good job of tonguing my daddy's dick, but try as he might he could only get so much of that oversized mansnake down his throat before gagging. 

Without a second thought I began chucking my clothes aside until I was as naked as the two of them were. I reclined back on the sofa and took my achingly hard cock in hand. Sucking and grunting sounds were emanating from the screen, making the vision in front of me all the more real. Before I knew what I was doing, I was stroking myself in time with Todd's bobbing head, letting myself imagine the heat passing back and forth between them until finally it was me up there on that screen servicing my dad, licking his meat and slurping his juices, and feeling his hot manly thrusts parting my lips. 

Things were heating up incredibly quickly on screen. Dad may have wanted a slow start, but he seemed to be having no problem moving into overdrive now. He had locked his grip on Todd's head and was literally pile-driving his fuckrod in and out of the moaning cop's pliant throat. Eventually I fell in with this motion too, giving myself over to the pounding rhythm on screen, welcoming that invading cock deep into my mouth and throat, knowing that in a way Dad had found a way to fuck not just Todd but me as well. Dad's body was a fearsome engine of raw power, the lean muscles rippling and pulsing under the skin, throwing off waves of heat. My own body was burning up with desire, and then I fell back into the cushions of the sofa and began spewing long ribbons of cum all over my exposed belly and chest, crying out for the one thing I could not have. 

"Daddy!"



Daddy Blue Pt. 02



"Oh. My. God. Quick, Charlie, pinch me. This cannot be real." 

Dell just kept going on like that, muttering endless epithets under his breath as he sat rapt on the sofa, his eyes glued to the images spooling by on the TV screen. Occasionally, he'd cut a glance my way, his expression a mask of utter shock, then he'd go right back to the screen, staring as the vision of my Dad feeding his big erect cock into Todd's slurping mouth. 

Actually, I wasn't doing much better than Dell. I was curled up in a side chair, taking deep breaths and tightly hugging my body as frame after frame of my fully naked father went by working his steel-hard weapon into the younger cop's eager throat. I'd watched it all the way through, or most of it, before Dell arrived, but here I was watching it again, and was just as mesmerized and turned on as I was the first time. Finally, unable to take another second of this exquisite torture I jumped up, grabbed the remote from Dell and shut the thing off. 

"Hey!" croaked Dell, finally snapped out of his spell. "What's the big idea? You're the one who called me over here to see this." 

"Yes, I know. But give me a fucking break, Dell. This is my dad." 

Dell glared at me, then fixed me with a knowing look. "You've already watched it, haven't you?" 

When I didn't answer, Dell lunged at me, wrestled the remote out of my hand and restarted the video. "This is the wildest thing I've ever seen, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you stop me from seeing it all." 

"Fine—but cut the goddamn sound effects, will you? All that grunting is driving me crazy." 

Dell dialed down the volume, and thereby took away much of the effect the endless succession of groans and grunts were having on me. Make no mistake, every time I glanced at the screen and saw my dad fucking his cock into Todd's deep throat, it sent a fresh chill of excitement through me. But for now, at least, I felt as if I could breathe without those heated sex sounds coiling around and choking me. And without those riveting sounds, I was able to divert my attention at least partly onto Dell. And it was then I realized he was just as turned on by the searing images on screen as I was. After several more minutes of torture Dell turned and looked at me. 

"And you really didn't know . . .?" 

"That he was doing that? God no. Don't you think I would have told you?' 

"Jesus H. Christ," sighed Dell. "Charlie, this is huge." 

"You're telling me? What the hell am I gonna do about it?" 

"What are you going to do? How the hell should I know?" 

"Well, for heaven's sake, Dell, why do you think I called you!" 

"OK, OK, settle down, little Mary Sunshine " said Dell, once again studying the screen. "You do know, don't you, that you're not the first guy to discover his dad is gay, though I have to admit finding out this way, now that takes the cake. The only thing worse would've been if you had actually walked in and caught 'em doing it." 

"Shut up, Dell. This is no time for jokes. Talk about a total fucking disaster." 

Dell snickered and then cut his eyes my way and tried to look serious. But there was no disguising how much he was getting caught up in the images on-screen. "Say what you want, Charlie C, but this is hot. I mean, really incredibly smoking hot. Why didn't you tell me your dad looked like that without his clothes on?" 

I grabbed a cushion off the recliner and threw it at Dell who just dodged it and snickered again. Frustrated, I reached over and once again took the remote and shut the tape off. "We need a break. Don't argue with me, Dell. Maybe yours aren't, but my eyes are burning. We can finish this later." 

"I'm not arguing," said Dell, standing up, taking a deep breath and running his hand across the nape of his neck. "For some reason my neck is stiff and my throat is dry. I could go for a soda. You want one?" 

"Yeah," I said, following him into the kitchen. 

"But how could he be gay?" I said, downing a big gulp of the soda. "I would've known." 

"How would you have known?" said Dell, fixing me with a look. "Think about it, Charlie. How many times have you and I sat around talking about some famous macho guy who everybody thought was straight as an arrow, and turned out to be as queer as a two-dollar bill? It happens all the time. It makes you wonder, though. About your mom, I mean. Maybe the real reason she took off was that she found out that your dad actually prefers dudes, and she couldn't take it." 

"Makes sense—except that's just a bunch of bull, Dell. I was around then, remember? I know the real reason she left, and it was because she couldn't handle the responsibility of raising a kid. And, besides, she wasn't his only one, you know. My dad's had lots of girlfriends since then. There was a really pretty one just a couple of years ago, and I know for a fact they were doing it." 

"How do you know?" 

"Because I heard them—especially her. She wasn't exactly the quiet type, if you know what I mean, and when she slept over, I swear you could her squealing all the way down the hall. There was no faking that." 

"OK, so he was straight once, and then he flipped, and became gay. Or maybe half-gay. Jesus, I don't know. This is starting to hurt my brain. I'm fresh out of ideas. You got any?" 

"You're really giving up so easily? That's not like you." 

"Will you cut me some slack?" said Dell throwing up his hands. "You invite me over here, throw me for a loop by showing your straight-arrow cop dad force feeding his cock down some guy's throat, and expect me to explain it all in twenty words or less. OK, sorry. I think I'd the one who needs to take a chill pill now. Look, Charlie, this isn't the end of the world. Heck, if I were to find out my dad was gay, I'd probably throw a fucking party. Maybe the real question isn't how could he be gay, but why are you so upset by it? And in any case, this little intermission is over. Time to restart the movie. Maybe further viewing will give us a clue as to what's actually going on." 

An hour later we had made it through most of the tape. It was taking so long because Dell kept slowing it down and backing it up, then pausing it to make little observations and ask impossible questions. I had pulled my feet up and coiled back into my lounge chair. Dell was so absorbed by the screen that he didn't seem to notice me pulling the edges of my T-shirt down over my shorts so that I could press my hand over my crotch and gently finger my cock. I couldn't help it. I was as hard as a rock.  

"Charlie, look at that. Have you ever noticed that your dad has a cute little mole on his left cheek?" 

"Fuck, no, Dell. I really hadn't been studying my dad's naked butt lately." 

Dell just chuckled. By now he was totally ignoring my snarky little comments and thoroughly enjoying the show. "What difference does it make—right? Not when you have a butt like that. Damn, the whole package looks good. So how did he get all those muscles?" 

"He runs a coupla times a week, plus he works out regularly at the police gym. But I thought you knew that, Dell." 

"I may have, I don't know. Funny how you can be around someone for years and yet still not really see them—huh?" 

The truth of Dell's words had only begun to sink into me when suddenly there was another shock. The scene we were watching came to an end and almost immediately another scene started up. 

Dell gasped. "Jesus-Fucking-Christ, Charlie, there's a second part. Did you know that?" 

"Hell, no!" I yelped. "I was only getting to the end of the first part when you showed up. My God, this really is a whole other scene." 

It was indeed. Obviously taped some time after the first, this scene had quite a different look and feel. The picture seemed brighter, sharper, less murky. Dad was already seated on the edge of Todd's bed when the action started, this time wearing an undershirt as well as his signature boxers. Todd appeared wearing a pair of underwear himself and made a beeline for Dad who showed none of the hesitancy of the first scene. He stood as Todd approached and began shedding his own underwear, not waiting for Todd. Following Dad's example, Todd quickly stepped out of his own boxer briefs and knelt down in front of Dad. 

Dad seemed not just more comfortable but more confident in this scene. He and Todd had obviously been fucking around on a regular basis off camera for some time. Seeing the ease with which they approached and touched each other, even caressed each other, left me feeling distinctly strange and left out. That first time, when they had seemed so awkward and uncomfortable with each other, warmed and excited me because I felt like I was right there in the moment with them as they were discovering each other sexually for the first time. Now I just felt—excluded, like I never was a part of it. And now I had to confront the real feeling these scenes were exciting in me: jealousy. 

"Oh, damn, this one's even hotter than the first!" declared Dell as he saw the urgency with which Todd swallowed Dad's hunk of thick meat. 

Dad settled back on the bed and spread his legs, content to let Todd do most of the work while he sat back and enjoyed the fruits of the boy cop's sucking skills. But if Dad was more into the pure enjoyment of the moment this time around, so was Todd. After only a few minutes of active sucking, Todd eased off of Dad's now wet and glistening manrod and began to sensually stroke it while settling in for a spell of licking and tonguing the hairy underside of it. Dad groaned audibly when the young cop brought his moist lips down to the pendulous brown ballsac, hanging sensuously between Dad's well-muscled thighs. 

"Fuck, yeah, Toddy boy. Take care of Daddy's nuts. You know how I like it." 

An involuntary gasp escaped me when Dad said that, using words that almost made it feel like he was talking more to me than Todd. Even Dell was shocked and shot me a look when the word 'Daddy' escaped those lips. But who were we kidding? Talk like that only made this thing that much more intoxicating. 

By now, neither Dell nor I was making much of an effort to disguise just how turned on we were. We were both starting to breathe heavily and rub our hands over various parts of our bodies. Both of us exhaled when Todd make contact with Dad's well-turned balls, and then we sucked air when Todd crammed them greedily into his mouth and made Dad visibly shudder and throw back his head. 

"OK, this is hot—right? Tell me this is hot," breathed Dell who by now was cupping his own hardon as blatantly as I was. Dell and I had watched porn together before, even openly stroked ourselves on occasion when some fine young stud had struck our fancy on screen. But there is a world of distinction between watching the commercial stuff and this, the difference being experiencing something you know is fake and then getting caught up in something you know is the real thing. And this was about as real as it gets. I could see the sweaty sheen breaking out on their bodies, feel the magnetic pulse in their loins, and smell the simmering musk rising off their hairy bodies. 

Some minutes later Dad was on his feet, ready to start pumping in earnest his cock down Todd's willing throat. A couple of times, he pressed so deep that poor Todd had to momentarily pull back to catch his breath and try to swallow the undoubtedly thick streams of precum Dad was putting out. Dad seemed rather amused when the younger man couldn't keep pace with him. 

"What's the matter, Donovan? This meat too much for ya?" 

"Hell, no," grinned Todd, still trying to catch his breath. "You just keep bringin' it, old man. I can handle anything you got." 

"I know you can. You really do love gettin' it—dontcha, boy?" 

As if to prove the point Todd descended back onto Dad's dick, humming and purring as he suckled it. Every now and then he would grab his own dick and give it a few quick furious strokes, but it hardly seemed to need the attention. From the time Todd removed his briefs until now, his own rod had stood bolt upright like the mast of a ship. 

As the tension between Todd and Dad heated up I felt myself being drawn even closer to the screen. As in the first scene, Dad locked his grip on Todd's head, steadied himself, and began heavily fucking his cock fully into the boy cop's open throat. The first scene had ended when Dad had pulled out and plastered his seed all over Todd' face and chest. As I watched him now, his expression a sold mask of lust and concentration, I wondered if he would do the same or force Todd to swallow his fiery man-load. I held my breath awaiting the outcome. 

"Did you hear that?" asked Dell, glancing over his shoulder. 

"What?" I said. 

"I thought I heard something . . ." 

And then I heard it too: the clear sound of a car door being slammed shut. I turned to Dell. 

"Oh, shit, what time is it?" 

"Wow, six-thirty. Who knew it was so late?" 

Already I could hear the kitchen door being opened, the one that leads to the garage. Frantically, I grabbed the remote and shifted the TV reception to a cable channel, then I glanced at Dell. 

"Whatever you do, Dell, act natural." 

Just then I heard a familiar voice calling out from down the hall. 

"Am I hearing voices in the house? Now who the Sam Hill can that be?" 

"It's me, Dad," I yelled in the direction of the hall. "We're in the den." 

Dad stuck his head in the wide entranceway and smiled. "Hey there, stranger. Long time no see. You don't call. You don't write . . ." 

"It's good to see you too, Dad." 

"Fuck that. Get your butt over here and give your old dad a hug." 

I dutifully did as I was told, rolling my eyes as I did. This had become a little ritual we observed whenever I came home from college: him demanding I come and give him a big hug hello and me pretending it was just too damned corny. There was just one little problem: This time my heart was pounding in my chest like a gong. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that that stupid video was still playing on the machine, covered up by a TV show, and I hadn't even remembered to hide the damned DVD case that was lying in clear sight on the coffee table! 

Dad wrapped me up in a big bear hug and shook me. Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of Dell blessedly grabbing the case and shoving it behind a cushion on the sofa. He then stared at me with an expression of abject horror. 

"Dad, jeez, you're squeezing me to death, " I protested after a moment, which was also part of the ritual, at which point he reluctantly let me go, still grinning wide. I tried to look as nonchalant as usual, but the truth was that for the first time in my life I was feeling totally weirded out by my own father. He may have been feeling warm and fuzzy, but I was feeling something else, but what—overwhelmed? Confused? Turned on? That last thought really threw me for a loop. I mean, yes, I knew I was feeling turned on. I had just watched this man force feed his cock down another man's throat for the last two hours, but . . .well, he still was my father, after all. Talk about confused. And to be even more honest, feeling Dad's arms around me, feeling the warmth of his body pressing into me, smelling that distinctive mix of aftershave and musk, and just a hint of sweat that marked him after a long day on the job—all this was also giving me some pretty confusing feelings. I was glad he let me go when he did because I was starting to feel awful warm myself. 

"Dad, hey, look who's here: Dell!" 

"I see him hiding over there on the sofa. Hey you, kid, get your skinny ass over here and gimme a hug too." 

Dell meekly complied, even managing a guilty-looking smile before being swallowed up in Dad's huge embrace. Jesus, Dad really is a big guy, I thought, strong and tall. Muscular. Square-shouldered. But still lean and compact in a really nice-looking sort of way. And even as I stood by, watching him, assessing him, I couldn't keep my eye from trailing down, to his waist, and butt, also so firm and rounded in just a nice sexy way. Goddammit, I thought. Put your fucking eyes somewhere else! 

Glancing over Dad's shoulder I could see poor Dell with a near panicked expression on his face. He was obviously thinking the same sort of things I was, and really not doing a very good job of covering it up. Before Dad saw that face, I decided I'd better distract him. 

"Dad, you're home sort of early, aren't you? I mean, don't you usually work that part-time security job on Fridays after your shift?" 

"Yeah, usually," he said, releasing Dell and turning to me. "But I blew it off, called in sick. It's been a long week. Hell, I'm old, pooped. I'll probably try to pick up some extra hours tomorrow night." 

"You—old? I can't believe you said that, Mr. C," said Dell, now staring at my dad like he was a porn star. "You're in fantastic shape." 

Once again I was glad Dad was looking at me and not Dell. Asking him to act nonchalant was like asking Nicki Minaj to act nonchalant—not possible. 

"I've really missed this," said Dad, beaming at the both of us. "Coming home, finding you guys here hanging out. I mean, I thought I was going to love having a quiet house, no TV constantly blaring, no stereo blasting. But now that I've got it, the place is like a funeral home, too damned quiet." 

"Yeah, let me cut that off," I said, grabbing the remote and shutting off the TV while still noticing that the DVD player was still going. Luckily, Dad had his back to the TV and had not noticed. 

"Yeah, that was just on," volunteered Dell. "We weren't even watching it." 

"I have an idea," said Dad. "If you guys don't have any plans for tonight, how about splitting a pizza with me? My treat. I don't feel like trying to whip up anything. What do you say, college men?" 

"Great," I said. 

Dad grinned and began unbuttoning his regulation blue shirt. "I'm gonna head up to my room and get out of these clothes and into a hot shower. Order what you want, I'm open to anything. But why am I telling you? You know what I like." 

Dad disappeared into the hall and headed for the stairs. I turned to Dell and gave him an irritated look. 

"Really, Dell: 'Oooo, Mr. C, you look sooo good. You look sooo fine. I could just lick you from head to toe.'" 

Dell giggled. "Is that supposed to be me? I know I did not say that." 

"You might as well have, from the way you were ogling him. Dell, we have to be careful . . . and smart, if we're ever going to figure out what's going on with my dad." 

"And just for the record, I do not ever sound anything like that." 

"Focus, Dell. Now hand me that case." 

Dell retrieved the jewel case from behind the cushion where he'd hid it and gave it to me. I quickly ejected the disc and tucked it back into the case. 

"I can't believe my dad stood next to this thing and never noticed it was running. At least some of our luck is holding." 

"And I was quick enough to tuck that case out of sight—quick as a fox." 

"Yes, Dell, you were Johnny on the spot. And thank God you were. But I just had another horrifying thought. What if he goes looking in his drawer for some underwear and sees the disc is missing?" 

"Then I'd say our gooses—geece?—are cooked. Charlie, you'd better get that thing back in his drawer right now, before he has a chance to see it's gone." 

I had to laugh. "This just gets better and better, doesn't it? Well, come on. Let's sneak up there and see if he's gotten in the shower yet." 

We crept up the stairs and peered cautiously into Dad's bedroom. The shower in his bathroom was running, so I motioned to Dell to follow me over to the chest, but he balked. 

"You go," he said, looking uncomfortable. "I'll wait out here." 

"Coward," I muttered and scurried across the room to the large chest on the far wall. Pulling out the top drawer, I tucked the disc back where I'd found it and gave a huge sigh. 




Daddy Blue Pt. 02



"Looking for something, partner?" 

My heart leapt into my throat as I spun around to find Dad, standing in the doorway to his bathroom, eyeing me curiously. He was completely nude, except for a large bath towel slung over his shoulder. 

I swallowed hard. "Dad, hey." 

I just stood there, staring like the village idiot. My mind went completely blank. I knew I needed to say something, to explain what I was doing in his room, but I couldn't think of a single thing to say, mainly because I was finding it all but impossible not to stare at his dick and balls that hung like precious jewels between his long muscular legs. 

"You're not going to believe this, Dad, but, um, you see, I, um . . ." 

"Suppose I take a stab at it," he said studying my face with a bemused grin. "You went to order the pizza and realized you didn't have the cash to cover it, so you ran up here to raid my money roll." 

This time my heart really did skip a beat. "You knew?" 

"That you occasionally slip your hand in the cookie jar? Of course I knew. I've known all along, Charlie. I am a cop, after all." 

"Then why the frick didn't you ever say anything?" 

He chuckled a little. "I don't know. You never took that much; it was no big deal. And maybe I got a little bit of a charge out of letting you think you were getting away with something. Besides, I'd rather you come to me for money than go somewhere else. Take what you need. I trust you." 

I stood there on shaky legs for several minutes after he had gone back into the bathroom and stepped into the glass-enclosed shower. I was still absorbing the bombshell he had just dropped on me—not to mention the inadvertent little peep show he had just put on—when I returned downstairs to find Dell anxiously waiting for me. 

"I guess you heard that." 

"Yep," said Dell. 

"It was total, all-out freaky. Sometimes, I feel like my dad can see right though me." 

"Speaking of seeing things, did you catch sight of that package? Cripes, Charlie. Totally freaking nice. And way better in real life." 

"Shut the fuck up, Dell." 

"You shut up. Who do you think you're kidding? You're just as turned on by him as I am—even if he is you dad." 

I groaned. "It's true, goddammit, and just how fucked up is that? But, don't you see, Dell, that's why I've got to know if he's really gay or not." 

"Well, judging from that video, I'd say he's got to be at least a little bit gay." 

"Why? Because he let some guy suck him off? Oh, come on, Dell. That doesn't prove anything. We both know guys who get off on getting as many people as they can to blow them. They're not gay. They're jerks, egomaniacs who like fucking over as many people as they can. It doesn't much matter to them if you're a guy or a girl. In the end, that video may have proved only one thing for sure: that my dad's a king-sized jerk. And if he is, I've got to know." 

"Charlie, this is your dad. You can't really believe he's a jerk." 

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "And this from the guy who's always telling me I worship him too much and can't see his flaws. Well, I sure as hell see them now. He's changed, Dell. Every since last year when he did something I never thought he would do: forced me to go to that damned college when I didn't want to. Now I find out he's been fucking around with that creep Todd. Well, it's too much. I'm gonna find out the truth about him, Dell. And when I do, I'm gonna confront him." 

"Jesus, Charlie, I don't think I've ever seen you so worked up. What are you planning on doing?" 

"I'm . . . not exactly sure At least not yet. I could really use some help here, Dell." 

"So let me get this straight: You want to sneak around and spy on your dad, and you want me to help you with it because you think I know all about that underhanded shit—don't you? You actually think I've done that kind of stuff. Well, I guess if the truth be told, I have." 

"Good. Now where do we start?" 

Dell thought for a minute and then whipped out his phone and began dialing. 

"Who are you calling?" I demanded. 

"Pizza Express. You can't do this kind of stuff on an empty stomach. And something tells me this is going to be a bumpy night." 

A half hour or so later, the pizza arrived and Dad came bounding down the stairs at just about the same time. It was hard to miss that he seemed more bouncy and upbeat that usual. He was wearing faded jeans and an old HPD t-shirt, the sort of stuff Dell and I had seem him in a thousand times before, but this time both of us were having a hard time not admiring how well he filled out those old clothes. Dell especially kept shooting furtive looks in Dad's direction whenever he thought Dad wasn't looking until finally I elbowed him and told him to cool it. Naturally, Dell just ignored me. 

"Jeez, Mr. C, I can't get over how great you're looking these days. So what's your secret? You into lifting weights—or what?" 

"Knock it off, Dell. Dad doesn't want to talk about that." 

"Who says I don't?" said Dad. "As a matter of fact, Dell, I hit the free weights down at the police gym a coupla times a week, and lately I've even been giving the weight bench a try too. As I've gotten older, doing that kind of workout has really paid off." 

"You—older?" giggled Dell. "You sure don't look older to me." 

I kicked Dell under the table and he just kicked me back. "You already said that, Dell. I'm sure Dad would much rather talk about something more interesting than lifting a bunch of dumb weights." 

"Now hold on, partner," said Dad. "Don't go beratin' Dell. Fitness matters, even at your tender age. It wouldn't hurt the two of you to get into a regular exercise routine." 

"See, Charlie," said Dell, looking quite pleased with himself. "Fitness matters, and if anyone knows about that stuff it's your dad. He's way fit. Toned and tanned, too, and I've got to say that that tattoo on your arm looks really great." 

Suddenly, Dell who had been staring more hungrily at Dad than the pizza leaned across the table and squeezed the eagle tattoo on Dad's bicep. 

"Dell!" I yelped and jumped to my feet. I guess I was a little abrupt because both Dell and Dad were staring at me. "I need to get something from the kitchen. And Dell, why don't you come along and help me get it?" 

Looking a bit like a scared little puppy, Dell followed me into the kitchen. 

The minute we were inside I jammed Dell up against the refrigerator. "What the fuck are you up to?" I demanded in a loud whisper. 

"Isn't it obvious?" he said. "Flattery is the surest way to a guy's heart, and I'm really buttering up your dad. Can't you see how relaxed he is? Pretty soon he's gonna start opening up to us." 

"Is that what you're doing?" I said sarcastically. "Because from over here, it just looks like you're flirting with him." 

"Charlie, you are so naïve when it comes to guys. All that intensity and tension you put out just turns them off and makes them clam up. It's a wonder any guy at all pays attention to you." 

"I just have one thing to say to you, Dell," I said, dragging him back toward the dining room. "The rest of your plan had better go better than this, because this part—it stinks." 

"So what'd you get?" Dad said, looking at me. 

"Huh?" 

"You went in there for somethin'. So what was it?" 

"Oh, uh, nothing," I said, cutting my gaze in Dell's direction. "I decided I didn't need it after all." 

"OK, now that your little confab is over," said Dad giving me an amused look, "tell me about the college experience, men. So what's the verdict?" 

"College if great," contributed Dell, managing to talk even while munching on a big bite of sausage and pepperoni. "Did you know they have stuff going on nearly every night of the week on campus—plus lots of cool parties and things on the weekend. Of course my dormmate is a complete drag, this big dumb straight guy from the sticks. Now if I had my very best friend rooming with me . . ." 

"Um, Dell, let's not go down that road right now—OK?" I said, breaking in. "I'm sure Dad is a lot more interested in hearing about our classes and stuff like that—right, Dad?" 

"Well, not necessarily," he said. "You can tell me anything you want. I just want to catch up with you, see where your head is at these days. You know, though it's been a boatload of years since I was in college, I still remember what it was like, almost like it was yesterday. But I imagine the whole college scene has changed a lot since those prehistoric days." 

I saw an opening. "It has, Dad, a whole lot. Take the gay scene on campus now. Back in your day, gays still had to keep a really low profile, especially on campuses like A&M. But that's really changing now. Even at A&M, which you know is like the buckle on the Bible belt, they now have a gay student union arranging all kinds of things just for us queers. I mean, everybody but everybody is coming out of the closet these days, even the super straight-acting types." 

"So true," nodded Dell. 

"And that reminds me of something else, Dad," I said continuing. "One thing that is super confusing these days, what with gay marriage and everybody coming out of the closet, is like who's a good guy to date? I mean, there are so many jerks out there." 

"Yes, so many, " intoned Dell. 

"Well, yeah, take Dell here as an example. He has been seeing this guy on campus—cool, smart, interesting—right, Dell?" 

"Uh, yeah, well, I guess," said Dell, suddenly eyeing me with suspicion. 

"So, like I was saying, this guy came on strong, looking fine. And he's a graduate student, to boot. And Dell even started having some pretty serious feelings about him. But then Dell found out he was married . . ." 

"Whoa, wait a minute," interjected Dad. "So, Dell, man, are you comfortable with Charlie spilling the beans on your private life like this?" 

I laughed. "Of course he is—right, Dell? I mean, this is just between us guys here in the house." I avoided looking right at Dell who was giving me a What-the-hell-Charlie look. But Dell bit his tongue and kept quiet. 

"And, after all, Dad, you did say we could talk to you about anything. And we could really use your advice in this situation, seeing as how you've had all kinds of experiences yourself." 

"That is true," echoed Dell. "You probably know a hell of a lot about relationships—all kinds. So what d'ya think, Mr. C: Is this a good guy or not? Should I keep him or dump his ass?" 

Dad laughed, then jumped up and headed for the kitchen. 

"That's a real head scratcher," he said, rummaging around in the refrigerator and eventually coming back with a beer. "But, you know, we get hit by situations like that in the field all the time." He opened his beer and took a big swig of it. 

"Lucky for us we get training in handling complicated domestic situations like this nowadays before we ever hit the streets, and the prevailing opinion is to let the claimant dictate his own solution. So, Dell, tell me: Do you really like this dude? I don't mean just physically. But do you really, really like this guy, so that you're willing to work out whatever issues he's got going on at home?" 

"Yeah, I think I do." 

"Well, there you go then," said Dad. "If you like him and he likes you, don't be so quick to give him the boot. You know, there may be a way to work out his marriage situation so that in the end everybody wins." 

Dell grinned. "Ooo, me likey the sound of this advice." 

"Yeah, it is very . . . cop-like," I said, slumping in my chair. Dad had just managed to answer Dell's question, give some relationship advice, and even look cool while doing it, all without revealing in any way his own feelings about playing around with guys. I could definitely feel my frustration level rising. 

"You know, Charlie, I'm not the only one who can use some advice," said Dell. "And since your dad's so good at it, why don't we try this one on for size. I'm betting he gives you the same advice I did. You see, Mr. C, this morning before hitting the road, Charlie ran into his roommate's boyfriend—" 

"Hey, Dell, um, Dad does not need to hear about that. Nobody needs to hear about that. So come on, Dad, what about you? We haven't had a chance to sit down and talk like for ages. Surely there's something new going on in your life worth talking about." 

Dad shrugged. "Not really . . unless you want to talk about work." 

"But what about after work? Weekends? Your off days? Aren't you at least getting out and going places, seeing people?" 

"Oh yeah," Dad grinned. "Sometimes." 

"Who? What? Tell me." I demanded to know. 

Dad just shrugged again. "Nobody in particular. Come on, Charlie, I'm old. I haven't got the energy to run the streets anymore." 

"Well, maybe not running the streets," volunteered Dell. "But you're still a good-looking guy. Isn't there at least someone you're seeing?" 

"Hmm," said Dad, taking his time, munching pizza and enjoying his beer. "Nope." 

"Dad, I warned you about that—remember? When I went off to college, I told you not to just sit around this house vegetating. If you don't get out and make an effort, you're never going to meet anybody." 

"So true," added Dell. 

"Guys, gimme a break, chill out," smiled Dad looking as cool as a summer rain. "I get out now and then. There's always something going on with my house buddies. We get together, grab a few beers, hang out." 

"House buddies?" queried Dell. 

"He means his cop friends from the precinct," I said. "That reminds me, Dad, do you ever hang out with that guy—what was his name? Todd, like you used to?" 

"Sometimes, when he's not too busy chasing some girl. You know Todd, Charlie, can't light on anything for long. We still get together when he's free, shoot the breeze, play a little pool, hit a bar now and then." 

I looked at Dell in exasperation. We were getting absolutely nowhere with these questions. And Dad seemed totally unfazed. He finished off two slices of pizza while Dell and I stared at him, hardly touching ours. We kept exchanging looks of bewilderment. 

"I can't believe you guys aren't more hungry than that," said Dad rising up and clearing his setting. "I remember the day when the two of you could eat me out of house and home." When he strolled into the kitchen, I leaned over to Dell. 

"Dell, this is getting us nowhere. What do we do now?" 

"Beats me, but I think I'm going home," said Dell getting to his feet. "This third degree is starting to give me a headache. Face it, Charlie. Your Dad's too smart for the two of us put together." 

"So he thinks," I said, getting up and clearing the table. "Well, I'm not giving up, Dell. He thinks he's got us snowed, but I know enough about grilling someone to know that eventually everybody cracks, if you keep going at them long enough." 

"Ugh," said Dell making a face. "You don't need me for that, Charlie. But do call if something juicy happens." 

I followed Dell outside and watched him drive away. I sat on the front porch and breathed in the fresh air, allowing the cool evening breeze to wash over me and clear my mind. I used to do this all the time when I had some problem eating at me or just wanted to think. It was nice sitting out here in the half-light on this old porch, like having the world all to myself. It made me feel like I was a kid again, when no problem was too big and no hurdle too high to overcome. I used to like to count the stars, but now it seemed like there weren't very many left in the sky. Finally, I got up and went back inside, looking for Dad. 

I found him in the kitchen putting the last of the food away. 

"Dad, now that it's just us, why don't we go into the den and talk some more?" 

"Sorry, partner. Not tonight. I think I'm gonna head on up and climb in the sack." 

"Already? It's barely nine o'clock." 

"Sorry to disappoint you, son, but I'm beat. It's been a long day today, and tomorrow ain't likely to be much better. Plus I gotta get some rest if I hope to pull a shift on my security job tomorrow night. 

"Don't go, Daddy!" I yelped as he was making the turn toward the stairs, then I ran after him and pulled him back. 

"What's up, Charlie boy? What's going on?" 

I don't know what hit me, but suddenly I was shaking and I threw myself into his arms and held onto him. 

"I mean it, Charlie. You need to talk to me. You're starting to scare me, boy." 

"Oh God, Dad, I don't know," I said after a minute and straightened up. I was so embarrassed I could hardly look at him. 

Dad was staring right at me. "Has something happened? Are you in trouble?" 

"No, nothing like that. It's just that, well, all of a sudden I got scared. I think it felt like I was losing you." 

"Well, that's not gonna happen." 

"But it is happening, Dad. It's happening every day. I'm changing, you're changing. Pretty soon, we won't be the same people. And I'm afraid that some day I'll come home and we won't even recognize each other." 

Dad smiled his most reassuring smile and threw his arms around me, giving me another one of those big bear hugs. "Sounds like I'm not the only one who's tired here. So what if we're changing, sport. People change, that's what they do. But take it from me: some things will never change. And that's my feelings for you. Now I'm heading up to bed, and I suggest you do the same. Get a good night sleep, and things are gonna look a whole hell of a lot better in the morning." 

Dad went on up to his room and I did the same. Of course I wasn't about to turn in at nine-fucking-o'clock, and besides I was too keyed up to settle down, so I messed around on the computer for a while, then got bored and decided to go back downstairs to the den and watch some late night TV. 

I flipped through the channels until I came upon an interesting old movie called "Gilda." It was one of those noir-type movies from the 40s that Dad and I often like to watch together. It was sort of glum, shot in black-and-white, and since it fit my mood perfectly I settled in to watch. 

Though there was a lot of intrigue about gangsters and Nazis and a plot to smuggle diamonds or something, the movie didn't really take off until it forgot about all that stuff and concentrated on Gilda. Gilda as played by Rita Hayworth was the local floozy who strutted around like she was the hottest stuff in town, and with those long legs, flashing eyes and tousled hair, who's to say she wasn't? 

Gilda starts out as a torchy nightclub singer in a shady casino down in Buenos Aires after the war. She's just married the owner of the shady casino, a very rich, old, gangster-type German guy who seems to have lot of secrets. He's also jealous as hell of his hot young wife who is going out every night, singing in every dive in town, and basically inciting every man she meets to lust after her; so he turns to his trusty number two, an American thug named Johnny, to keep tabs on her. Little does he know that Johnny and Gilda have history together, which of course explains why Johnny is none too keen to get the watchdog assignment in the first place. 

Once Old Rich German Guy's back is turned, sparks start to fly between Gilda and Johnny. Now here are two people who know how to push each other's buttons—especially Gilda who doesn't miss a trick as she runs around town, flirting with all sorts of dudes, all the while glaring at Johnny. Johnny gets his own, though, when he slaps her and calls her a tramp. (These two should get a room already!) Before long it's pretty clear Gilda is ready to heat things up again with Johnny, but Johnny, ever the loyal soldier to the old rich guy, keeps backing off. After a while, you start to wonder if maybe Johnny isn't hankering to get a room with Old Rich Guy. It becomes the weirdest triangle you'd ever want to see. And it was about at this point that I drifted off to sleep. 




Daddy Blue Pt. 02



Unfortunately, the movie followed me right into my dreams. Before I know it, I'm in Gilda's room at Old Rich Guy's high-class villa. There's a racket of horns and shouting going on outside, so I rush to the window and see this big, noisy, raunchy parade going by. It's carnival, just like in the movie. And just like in the movie, shit is about to hit the proverbial fan. Don't ask me what. All I know is that, like Gilda, I have to get out of this stupid mansion and find Johnny. 

In the next instant I'm picking my way through streets thick with drunken revelers, yelling and celebrating like it's their last night on earth. I wonder if this is what New Orleans is like. I also wonder how the hell am I ever going to find Johnny in this mayhem. And another fleeting thought: Where the hell is Gilda? And then miraculously I spot him on the far side of a huge plaza decked out with all manner of banners and flags. He's just standing there, cool as ice, amid all those swirling crowds glaring at me just like he did at Gilda. I have to admit that during the movie I never did get what a hot number like Gilda/Rita saw in a scowling lowlife punk like Johnny. But now I'm starting to get it because there is something damned sexy about an angry young man in fine threads. All of a sudden Johnny spits out his cigarette and takes off down a side street with me in hot pursuit. I follow him for blocks, but can never catch up because of the insane crowds. Several times I almost lose him, but each time he pauses, glances over his shoulder and gives me time to nearly catch up before taking off running again. Finally he comes to the doors of the shady casino and stops. This time when he glances over his shoulder, I am shocked to see it's not Johnny that I'd been chasing, but Trey. 

Trey ducks into the casino and I follow him inside. The place is really humming, just like in the movie. I pick my way past gambling tables and roulette wheels, packed with lots of guys like Old Rich Guy smoking smoky cigars and throwing out wads of cash like it was going out of style, until finally I see Trey again ducking out a side door. The door opens in a narrow hallway dimly-lit and lined with other doors. I'm starting to get pretty frustrated; in fact, I'm starting to get downright mad. Where the heck is Johnny/Trey, and why all the games? I call out his name and then, as if on cue, the last door down the hall clicks open. 

I slip inside the door and gasp. 

"What the hell!" 

Trey is standing at the foot of a big ornate bed, his eyes glued on Gilda who is laid out across the silky sheets like a Christmas turkey. Her long satin robe is hanging open, and reveals she is totally fucking naked underneath. She gives me a dismissive look as if to say, Get a load of this, you fool, then slithers off the bed and proceeds to drape herself all over Trey. And worse, Trey is clearly loving it, his greedy hands sliding all over her ripe naked body. And I'm just standing there like a dumb kid, not knowing what to do. 

Neither one of them is in the mood for foreplay, and so when Trey pushes her robe off her shoulders, she just laughs and lets the flimsy thing drop the floor, revealing her long, satiny-smooth body. I release another gasp when Trey buries his face in her neck and shoulder, practically devouring her. I am both terrified and turned on—not a little bit because part of my lust is for her too, and not just this steamy tableaux. Of course Trey cannot care less how turned on I am because he only has eyes for slinky, sexy Gilda. Even as his lips trail down to her perky perfect breasts, she starts undressing him, pushing his own clothes off so fast that it seems as if she's doing it by magic. The thought occurs to me that she must be some kind of witch. How else to explain that no man can resist her? 

Trey is naked now, his fine lean body burnished and tan next to hers. He just keeps going after her. He can't get enough of her. He pushes her back onto the bed, readying to mount her. I am feeling overwhelmed, on the verge of panic, unable to talk or breathe. And then, incredibly, Trey looks at me, leeringly, hungrily, like a wild animal, then he plunges into her, making her cry out. I have to get out of here. I turn to escape, but a tall man in a white suit blocks my way. It is Old Rich Guy, standing between me and the door. 

"Get out of my way, old man!" I yell, trying to get past him, but he grabs and holds me with strong hard arms. I look at him again and realize it is Dad dressed in Old Rich Guy's gangster suit. 

"Dad," I say, "let me go. I have to get out of here!" 

"No, Charlie. You need to see this. It's the only way you'll ever get this punk out of your system." 

"No, Dad. Please don't make me watch." 

"You got to, Charlie. You gotta wake up out of this trance." 

"No, Daddy, please!" 

"Wake up, Charlie. Time to wake up now." 

I opened my eyes and saw Dad shaking me. I sat up and looked around. The TV was still going, but some other movie was playing. 

"What time is it?" I asked, trying to clear the cobwebs out of my brain. 

"Two o'clock and change. You need to get to bed, Charlie boy." 

"Damn," I said. "That was some dream." 

Dad looked at me with a smirk. "So I gathered, partner. You were really babbling when I first came down. Who is Old Rich Guy?" 

"I said that? Jeez, that was some dream. Did I happen to say anything else?" 

"There was one name I made out: Trey. You know I was never crazy about that boy, Charlie. Don't tell me you're seeing him again." 

"No, Dad, I'm definitely not seeing Trey. That's over and done with." 

"Good. Now get yourself to bed." 

"Dad, wait," I said, following after him as he started to climb the stairs. "Can I ask you a question before you go up . . . just one question and that's all." 

He turned to face me. "Charlie, you can ask me anything. You know that." 

"Are you . . . are you really . . . going to make me stay at A&M if I don't want to?" 

Dad shook his head and gave me a serious look. "You're getting too big for me to make you do anything you don't want to do, Charlie. But I thought we agreed to give it to the end of the school year before we decided anything like that." 

"You decided, Dad." 

"Fine, Charlie. We'll talk about it before you go back. But not tonight." 

I did go to bed, but kept tossing and turning until a little past six when I heard Dad moving around down the hall getting ready for work. It was eating me up that I had come so close to asking him about the tape, and then had totally chickened out at the last minute. And then in the twinkling of an eye, I had an idea. Back before I'd left, Dad and I usually had a quick breakfast together, allowing us to exchange a few words before we went off to school and work. I jumped up and dashed down to the kitchen. 

Ten minutes later Dad came downstairs, dressed in his uniform and ready for work. He was surprised to find me at the table with a bowl of cereal laid out for me and some toast and bacon for him, with his usual cup of steaming hot black coffee. 

"What's this, Charlie?" 

"Breakfast, Dad. Like we used to do—remember?" 

"I'd pretty much gotten out of the habit of that. Now I usually just grab a breakfast roll on my way into the station house." 

"I know, but I thought we could do this today, just for the hell of it. Sit down. It's all ready." 

"OK, Charlie," he said, sitting down and once again giving me one of those patented Dad looks. "But I don't know how you can keep from keeling over. You were up mighty damned late." 

"I'll take a nap later. Try the bacon. I may have overcooked it a bit." 

He stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth and smiled. "Delish. Tastes like homemade." He took a sip of his coffee and then cut his eyes at me again. 

"So, Charlie boy. No knock on this wonderful breakfast, but I get the impression you still got something on your mind. Better spit it out, boy. In exactly five minutes I'm gonna have to head out that door." 

"I can't believe how well you know me," I said ruefully. "I only wish I could say the same about you, Dad." 

"Oh, well, now there's a cryptic comment. What's that supposed to mean, son?" 

Suddenly I was feeling very uncomfortable and having a hard time even looking at him. And when I did, all I could feel were their piercing emerald green eyes boring into me. 

"For Pete's sake, Charlie. I don't have time for this." He stood up and took another quick swig of his coffee. He gave me an exasperated look. Not only could I not look at him, I couldn't talk. 

"OK then, I can see we really are going to have a serious talk. This isn't like you, Charlie. You don't hold back. Maybe tonight I can . . . no, goddammit. I'm working the late shift on my second job. There's no telling when I'll be gettin' in. I guess the talk will have to wait, but count on it, kiddo, it's coming. And when it does, I'll be expectin' to hear some answers." 

He gave me one last irritated look and strode out. I just sat there stunned. The fact is I really had been ready to spring the whole thing on him, to confess I'd stole the tape and watched it, and then confront him over whether he really was gay or not. I thought I was ready to do it all, right up until the moment I realized my true motives for asking: I wanted my dad to be gay. No, I needed him to be gay, and not because I feared he was some kind of asshole. Sitting there, peering into those endlessly green eyes, feeling them draw me in like naked emerald pools, I realized I was falling into some kind of deep lust/longing for my dad. The feelings I had for him were powerful and wrong, the kind of feelings no son should ever have for his father. 

Well, having fucked that up royally, I was now way too tired to think my way out of it. I fled upstairs to my old room where my nice, warm, safe bed was waiting. I crawled under the covers was out like a light within minutes, and slept soundly until a little after noon when I was abruptly wakened by someone pounding on the front door and madly clicking the doorbell. 

To my shock it was Trey, showing up for a second day on my dad's doorstep. 

"Trey, what are you doing here? After what you said yesterday, I never expected to see you again." 

Trey shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. "Hey, never say never—right? Look, Charlie, I know what I said and I guess I meant it at the time. But let's face it, you threw me for a loop with that call yesterday morning, and the thing is, I didn't expect to ever hear from you again either. Don't you recall? At New Year's we said goodbye; that was supposed to be it. And yet there you were on the phone—complicating my life to hell as usual. Look, can I come inside?" 

I stood aside and let him in, but I was having some decidedly uncomfortable feelings about it. Most likely it had to do with the fact that I'd just told my dad things were over and done with between me and Trey. And I didn't like to lie to my dad. 

"You know, I may not have shown it very well yesterday, Charlie, but I've missed you . . . a lot. Just seeing you, that brought back a lot of memories. Good memories." 

"I've missed you too, Trey, but I'm not so sure this is a good idea. I think maybe you had it right when you said we should just let it go and move on." 

"Do you know what this sounds like: every conversation we ever had. You always had one view and I had another. You'd want to go somewhere, do something, and I'd always want to do the exact opposite. Damn, we didn't even like the same kind of food. I don't know how the hell we ever got together." 

"I do," I confessed. "I saw you at a party and I liked what I saw, so I went after you. I didn't even care that my friends were all saying you were straight and strictly out-of-reach. I just thought you were the most incredible guy I'd ever seen." 

"Yeah? See, even that was opposite. I just thought you were some kind of crazy-ass gay motherfucka, but in a totally cool kind of way. That's why when you called me up a few days later and suggested we hang out, I said, Hell, why not? Nah, I didn't think we'd ever, you know, get sexual, but I really did want to see you again. And so I did." 

Trey grabbed me and pulled me to him, and despite my reservations, I held onto him too. He kissed me. 

"I mean it, Trey," I said, trying to separate from him but feeling myself starting to respond to his warm embrace. "Maybe this isn't such a hot idea." 

"Feels hot to me," he crooned. "Hey, remember how we fought? Dammit, we were always fighting about something, but then we'd get over it and couldn't even recall what the fight was about." 

"Yeah, and then we'd fuck like rabbits." 

"But do you know what I figured out, Charlie? Fighting with you wasn't really like fighting at all. It was just part of the game. We were always playing these little games, you and me. We'd joke and goad each other, and then somebody would get mad, and then we'd fight, and then we'd makeup and fuck, and then we'd do it all over again." 

Trey pulled me really close and kissed me deep, his tongue sweet and probing, filling me up, making we forget whatever doubts I'd had. He was right, of course. We were always arguing about something or other, but nobody ever really got all that mad. And the next thing I knew, somebody was nudging somebody, and somebody was kissing back—just like now—and all I could think about was getting to his cock. 

Already I was unbuttoning his work shirt and he was pulling off my t-shirt. In-between we were touching and feeling and caressing, just in that way we knew each other liked, and soon I had forgotten even the thoughts I had that morning, about certain powerful feelings I was having for my dad. 

Without my t-shirt I was now only dressed in a pair of boxer briefs. Trey dropped down and flicked my underwear off and began tonguing my cock, making it feel fantastic. I could recall a time when he was a lousy cocksucker, that is, when he sucked cock at all. Now he was damned near as good at it as I was. I groaned and held his head. OK, Rita/Gilda, I said to myself, try taking him away from me now. 

Trey got to his feet and drew me back into a kiss. "Let's up upstairs," he said, motioning toward my bedroom. I wasn't about to object. At the top of the stairs we turned in the direction of my room, but then he stopped. 

"Hey, I got an idea. Let's go in there." He nodded in the direction of my dad's master bedroom. I flinched. 

"No, Trey. That's not a good idea." 

"Yeah, you always said that. I must've come here a dozen times last year when we were alone in the house, and not once would you let me go into Big Daddy's sacred room." 

"I told you why. Dad keeps his room like a monk, not a damn thing is out of place in there. I think they train them to do that in the marines. I swear if we went in there, he'd know it." 

"Yeah, that's what you always said. But so what, Charlie? You're nineteen fucking years old now. When are you gonna stop worrying what Daddy's gonna say all the time? So what if he comes home and says who's been monkeying around with my goddamn pencil eraser. You just say you went in there to find a comb or something. There. Problem solved. Case closed." 

And with that Trey pulled away from me and strode right into Dad's bedroom. I swallowed hard and quickly followed him. Trey paused just inside and looked all around the room. It was like he was looking for something in particular. There really wasn't much to see. Though Dad's room was huge, twice the size of mine, there was really nothing very special about it. Except for the king-sized bed, the furnishings were all pretty modest and spare, basic dark wood items to match the cherrywood paneling. 

Trey walked around, looked at the photos on the dresser and chest, inspected the pictures on the wall, glanced in the oversized closet and then looked at me. 

"Damn, ain't nothing much to it, is there?" 

"I told you. What did you expect?" 

"I don't know. Somethin' more than this. I thought there would be medals or trophies or somethin'. You know. The few times he did talk to me, he made it clear he didn't think I was anywhere near good enough for you." 

"And I told you, Trey, you shouldn't take it personally. He talked to every guy I brought around here like that." 

"Maybe so, but it was hard not to take it personally. He talked like he was God and I was dirt under his feet. And the few times you did bring me around when he was here, he would watch me like a fucking hawk. It gave me the creeps." 

I walked up to Trey and put my arms around him. "Well, he's not here now, soo why are we wasting time talking about him when we could be in my room sweating up the sheets?" 

We kissed long and deep. I ran my hands up and down Trey's wonderfully firm torso and then down to his fine hard ass. Even through his jeans, his glutes felt great. Not to be outdone, Trey passed his hands over my body as well, finally pushing his hands down and into the waistband of my shorts, and pinching my ass. I grabbed him and attempted to pull him toward my room. 

"No wait, babe," he said, stopping at the door. "Let's do it here." 

"You can't be serious. Trey, that is not a good idea." 

Trey laughed. "Since when do you care if it's a good idea? You're the one who wanted to fuck in a gazebo in a park downtown and right next to the monkeys in the zoo." 

He started guiding me back into the room. I could feel his hands on my back, my hips, my butt and my crotch. Why is it whenever this guy touched me, I responded? I tried to keep my head. 

"No, Trey, listen. I don't have a good feeling about this." 

"Then what's this about?" said Trey, squeezing my cock that was already standing out like a steel pole trapped inside my underwear. This time, he pushed my briefs all the way down and off. And standing there completely naked and exposed inside my daddy's room, I could not deny feeling a sudden intense sexual charge, and Trey could see it too. 

"You know, Charley, I never met anybody like you. Sometimes, you get a look, almost like a caged panther, and then I know I can't resist you." 

Trey reached down and began removing his jeans and I could see he was just as turned on as I was. Even before he had his boxers all the way off, I was on my knees in front of him, sniffing the delicious scent of his crotch, and pulling his beautiful long brown cock into my mouth. 

Trey laughed a little, then hissed and purred, letting me know just how much he relished the delicious sensations I was laying on his manrod. Trey's meat, already hard, firmed up even more, and filled my mouth and throat to capacity. I drew back a bit, enough to give my tongue some breathing room, and began swishing it all around his cockhead, massaging and manipulating it, coaxing out the generous load of precum I knew was inside. In mere seconds, I felt his juices begin to flow, staining my tongue with their musky milky taste. 

"Fuck yeah, babe. That's it. Eat my dick." 

Trey began a slow even thrusting into my mouth. I slowed down my sucking to allow him to gently fuck my throat, enjoying the powerful sensation of his cockhead as it invaded and penetrated me, filling me with all manner of heated thrills. As he did this, I ran my fingers up his thighs and onto his wonderfully firm butt, feeling the muscle of the cheeks hot at work under his velvety skin. 

Slowly but surely Trey was going deeper, his long thick cock pushing at the boundaries of my maw. I relaxed my throat and leaned into him, welcoming this ultimate intrusion, knowing that deep swallowing had a way of exciting his lust like nothing else. Just from his breathing I could sense the heat engine of his body revving up. But then after only a few minutes of this, Trey backed off and pulled out. 




Daddy Blue Pt. 02



"I'm still hungry," I insisted. 

"You're not the only one," grinned Trey with a devilish glint on his eye. He pulled me to my feet, gave me a quick peck on the lips, and then pushed me backward until I fell onto dad's wide bed. Instantly, Trey caught my legs and pulled them up nearly to his shoulders. Even as I was still reacting to being sprawled on the bed, Trey separated my legs and licked my now open ass. I gasped and arched my back. The sensation of his mouth on my sensitive hole was fantastic. 

I lay there waiting for more and when it didn't come I strained forward to see what he was up to. He was just poised there, waiting for me to look up, and when I did he buried his tongue fully in my chute, plunging it as far as it would go. I yelped and thrashed about on the bed, completely undone by the explosion of prickly pleasure that suddenly overtook me. If I knew how to suck cock, then Trey knew how to suck ass, using his darting tongue as effectively on me as I had used mine on him. I was instantly tossed into a world of swimming, swirling delight. 

"You fucker," I managed to choke out between squeals of pleasure. "You did that deliberately," I groaned. Trey just went on licking and slurping in me as if he didn't hear me, but I knew he did. Above all, I loved the playfulness of the man. Finally, he withdrew his tongue and climbed over me, leaning in for a kiss. 

"Damn, I missed you, Charlie." 

"Me too, Trey. More than you know." 

Again Trey pushed my legs far apart and then I felt him positing his rod in the crevice of my hole. My boyhole was running with saliva, and so when he pushed inside it divided my buns and drove in easily. I squirmed underneath him. 

"Oh God, Trey! Fuck!" 

"Take it, babe. Take my dick. Can you feel me in your guts?" 

All resistance melted away as Trey slid fully inside, sheathing me like a sword. I whined, groaned and grit my teeth, straining to contain him. Feel him? It felt as if Trey was filling my body from one end to the other, his cock like a blazing ember. I held tightly onto his arms, half afraid I would tear apart if I didn't. Shivers of delight were going through me. There was no denying Trey was right about doing it in here. I was intensely turned on and it was at least partly because we were doing it in my dad's room. This was forbidden territory, this room, this bed, these sheets. Trey had barely begun to move in me and already I was shaking with desire. 

Sensing my heat, Trey began to fuck me in earnest. He fed me long, powerful strokes, the type I could feel right down to my toes. In no time at all he was slamming into me like a jackhammer, slicing me open like a pear, and all I could do was cry out for more. 

"Yeah, Trey. Fuck me. Fuck me hard." 

"Jesus, Charlie, look at you. You really dig it—don't ya?" 

All I could do was grunt in reply, throw my head back, and open myself up for more. This was the sex I'd dreamed of and longed for. Having Trey back, fully back, fucking me like this, pommeling me with his ferocious fuckstick, was almost more than I could stand. I shamelessly threw myself into him, held him, groped his body, and let him know in every way I could just how much I had missed him. 

"Damn, Charlie, it's like your boycunt is sucking me in. I've never known you like this." 

"Just fuck me, you idiot." 

Trey slowed the pace a bit. He continued to slam me deep, but took longer between strokes, pulled all the way and then drove all the way in, sometimes hanging just outside my channel, teasing me with his cock. It just made me hornier. I reached up, pulled him to me, and devoured his mouth with my tongue. Trey was gasping when I let him go, but I just laughed. 

Suddenly, Trey lifted up and grabbed my ankles and flipped me over on my belly with a thud. I yelped and twisted around, trying to see what he was up to, but he pushed me flat on the bed, pulled my cheeks apart and drove his fuckshaft back in. 

"Fucker!" I gasped, panting and laughing, grabbing at the sheets. Trey knew I loved to be surprised, plus I dearly loved the weight of his body on my back. But then something else happened. As I lay there grunting and sucking air, my nose buried in the sheets, I began to inhale a scent in the sheets. I immediately knew what it was: that slight hint of musk and aftershave, the distinctive and unmistakable scent of my dad. Smelling him in that moment only made me gasp more. 

Trey was pulsing his cock into and out of me like a heart beat. Feeling me responding underneath him, he began to pick up steam, his long, wet, beautiful hard dick probing ever deeper until he was plowing me with abandon. I could feel him positioning his body high above me, giving him even greater access to my hole. I was completely pinned beneath him as he rained down fuckstrokes from above. All I could do was push back against his hot hard body and moan into the sheets. 

We were both moaning stuff, I don't know what. Every stroke of Trey's fuck hammer was setting off sparks inside me, sending exquisite waves of heat up my spine. Though I could barely move, it began to seem as if the room was moving around me. I was being caught up in a maelstrom of sweat and heat and sound, and all the while I could not stop drinking in, imbibing that perfume of the sheets. 

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me . . ." 

"Jesus Christ, Charlie, you're eatin' me up. Can't last much longer." 

"No, don't stop." 

The room was now a complete swirl of flashing images and blinking lights. My butt was on fire and I was screaming into the sheets. Trey began rocking against me, shaking so much that it was hard for him to keep his shaft inside. Then I knew he was cumming. 

"Arrrgh . . . fuckin' shit! Goddamn!" 

The sudden flood of scalding heat in my guts exploded me too. I arched my back and slammed my cock into the bed, unleashing my own flood into the sheets. 

"Oh, God, Daddy, yes, yes . . . fuck me, fuck . . . me. . . ." 

The whole weight of Trey's body collapsed onto mine, and we lay there a sweaty, sticky mess. Slowly he pulled himself up, crawled over, and sat on the edge of the bed. 

"Goddammit, Charlie, I swear it felt like your butt was milking the juice right out of my dick." 

Still pretty breathless, I managed a weak smile and glanced over at him. "That was pretty intense, wasn't it?" 

He got to his feet and began pulling his clothes back on. "I'm so fuckin' late getting back from lunch that my boss will probably just fire me on the spot." 

I climbed off the bed and approached Trey. It was then I noticed he was hardly looking at me. 

"Is something wrong?" 

"Nah," he spat out, dressing quickly. 

When I touched him he flinched. It reminded me of the day before when Trey had been so cold and distant. Something definitely was wrong. 

"Is it Alli? Is that what you're worried about? Look, Trey, I'm not putting any demands on you." 

He finally looked at me. "Are really gonna stand there and pretend you didn't say what I just heard you say?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Fuckin' shit, Charlie! Don't bullshit me. We were in the middle of the hottest fuck session I can remember, and you start callin' out your daddy's name." 

"Oh my god, Trey," I said, suppressing an incredulous laugh. "Are you serious? You thought I was calling out my own dad? That's sick . . that's crazy. I was just pretending you were my sugar daddy. What are you getting so uptight about?" 

Trey turned away and finished dressing. He didn't look at me again until he was buckling his belt and getting ready to go. Then he looked hard at me, with those piercing black eyes, and I could see he wasn't buying my little act at all. 

"You're a lot of things, Charlie, but a good liar you're not. I've known you two years, fucked you lots of times, in a hell of a lot of places. And you never once called out to me like that. What's going on with you?" 

This time I could not look at him. Finally I said the only thing I could think to say. 

"Nothing." 

He glared at me one last time, shrugged and gave a bitter snort, then hurried out of the room, down the stairs, and slammed out the front door. I was left standing there in the middle of Dad's room, feeling completely naked and weirded out. Of course it was Dad I was calling out to in that moment of passion. Who was I kidding? From the moment Trey pulled me into this room and threw me on that bed, the only person in my head had been my father. 

"What the fuck did Trey expect?" I mumbled to myself as I sank back down onto the edge of the rumpled bed. "Dragging me in here . . . making me do it right on Dad's own bed? It is sick . . . crazy." 

I fell back into the pile of crumpled sheets. They were as sticky and messy as I was. Sweat, cum, it was all there. I reveled in the evidence of—what? My guilty pleasure. I turned my head and once again sniffed the sheets. Sure enough, for all the pungency of stinky sweaty cum, there was still, even now . . . that scent of Dad, lingering there. Once again, shamelessly, I gathered up a handful of the musty sheets and brought them to my nose. I inhaled deeply and sent my entire body into overdrive. 

I rolled onto the bed and let my hands roam all over the sheets. Then I rubbed them into my body, and touched myself, my tits, my cock, the intimate space between my legs. The flush of heat prickled my skin. I groaned. 

I was burning up with desire. It didn't matter that minutes before I had cum like a demon. Nothing mattered except being here right now on this bed, among these sheets, smelling this scent. I touched my cock and exploded once again, bucking high off the bed, growling and moaning, and erupting long ribbons of milky cum across my belly, the bed, and those sin-soaked sheets. 

I closed my eyes and when I opened them, a sense of panic had set in. Oh, my God. What if Dad walked in right now? How would I ever explain this? It was a fairly ridiculous thought, I knew, but even the remote possibility of it shook me. I got to my feet and surveyed the scene. Of course the bed was a complete disaster—the spread had been tossed onto the floor, the mattress askew, the sheets a sticky, crumpled mess—but nothing that couldn't be cleaned, tucked and fixed. 

I gathered up the sheets and mattress pad and headed straight for the utility room downstairs. And while the washer whirred and hummed, I made my way back upstairs to begin cleaning up that other disaster scene: me. I stepped into a hot shower and just let the water run over me for a while, hopefully washing away this intense sense of guilt I was feeling. I wasn't even sure what I felt most guilty about: fucking on Dad's bed, having impure thoughts about my dad, or using Trey to fantasize about my father. Somehow, it all just ran together in my mind. And while the water didn't exactly wash me clean of sin, it did help clarify in my mind what I should do about the crazy situation in which I now found myself. 

Later after carefully restoring Dad's room to its former state of pristine cleanliness, I called Dell. 

"You wouldn't believe the day I'm having, Dell." 

"Tell Mother all about it." 

"I don't even know where to start." 

"Start with you dad, you moron. Did you ever get anything out of him last night?" 

"Of course not. You were right: he's way too smart for either one of us. How the hell can he act so normal while I'm literally falling apart?" 

"Face it, Charlie: If you want to know the truth, you're gonna have to come clean. Just throw yourself on his mercy, confess you watched the goddamned tape and ask your dad what the heck it means." 

"I tried to—three times. And I just can't get the words out. It's funny, Dell. Before yesterday I would have sworn there wasn't anything I couldn't talk to my dad about, and now it's like there's this giant wall between us. And I don't know how to get over it." 

"Well, you can't go on like this." 

"I don't intend to. While I can't ask him about this, there is somebody else I can ask." 

"Who?" 

"Todd." 

"That guy from the video?" said Dell, his voice rising a full octave. "Have you lost your fucking mind? Didn't you like call him—what was it?" 

"A junkyard dog. And that wasn't me. That was Dad and his friends. And if you recall, Dell, I sorta liked the guy, in a funky kind of way." 

"OK, back up, Charlie Brown. Exactly what are you intending on doing with this guy?" 

I laughed. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Orindell Taylor. I'm not going to do anything with him. I'm going to talk to him, in a friendly kind of way. Remember he's the one who asked me out. I'll just call him up, suggest we hang out, and then when I get him alone, I'll spring the truth on him." 

"Exactly which truth is that?" said Dell, still suspicious of my motives. 

"You know, the one about me stumbling across a certain tape, and finding him and Dad doing stuff on it? Remember that truth? Come on, Dell, I'm not going out with him to—jump his bones. Believe me, I don't see him that way. I'm just going to find out what the deal is with my dad. Face it. If anyone will know if Dad's gone gay, it's him. And who else am I gonna ask?" 

"Fine," said Dell, somehow still suspicious. "I just seem to recall you going on about how you thought he was so cute, or something. And you always did like them old. I'm telling you, Charlie, you don't need to get involved with this guy." 

"Dammit, Dell, why are you giving me grief? I thought you'd be on my side in this. Do you really think I know what I'm doing here—because I really, really don't. I'm all out on a limb here, and I could really use some encouragement." 

"Of course you could. Sorry, sweetie. It's not like I have a better suggestion. It's just that I don't have the greatest feeling about this. You know, Charlie C, sometimes, I get the impression you're not telling me everything." 

"And you give me way too much credit, Dell. It's like you think I always know what I'm doing, when most of the time I don't have a clue. I'm stumbling around in the dark, like everybody else. I feel like I've wandered out onto a bridge here, and I don't know what's on the other side. But I have to go and find out. I just have to, so please don't fight me on this." 

"I wouldn't dream of it, Charlie. Look, I'm your friend no matter what. I just worry about you, that's all. But that doesn't mean I don't understand why you need to do this. Just be careful—will you please? And remember: I'm always in your corner." 

********** 

"Yo, Donovan here." 

"Hey, Todd. Guess who this is." 

"I don't have to guess. I know who it is. How in the world are you, Charlie Cole?" 

"Good. Great. And you?" 

"Never better, now that you're on the line. You lovin' that whole college experience yet?" 

"I do like college. I like being on my own. It makes me feel . . . more grownup." Unable to believe I'd said something so stupid, I suppressed a nervous giggle. I was relieved when Todd laughed too. 

"Listen, Todd, I'm I town for spring break. And it's Saturday night and I don't have anything to do. And, uh, I happened to, um, recall last summer. Do you recall that?" 

"Last summer? Let's see now. Warm weather. Hot nights. Fun at the beach." 

"OK, very funny," I said. "But last summer, when you, um, you . . ." 

"Last summer, when I said that if you were ever free, I'd like to take you out for a drink. Is that what you were recalling, Charlie?" 

"Yep, that's it. Look, Todd, I know a guy like you probably already has plans for tonight, but I was thinking—" 

"I don't have any plans. Well, not any I can't get out of. What did ya have in mind, hot stuff?" 

"What about that drink? I could, uh, meet you, wherever you want." 

"On Saturdays I like to drop in at the Zee Bar on Richmond. You know where that is?" 

"I can find it." 

"Cool. Why don't ya come by around midnight? Or is that gettin' a little past your bedtime?" 

"No, Todd, that's perfect. I do happen to stay up late sometimes. So then, tonight, at midnight, at the Zee Bar. It's a date." 

"You know, Charlie, it'd be no trouble for me to swing by your place and pick you up—" 

"No, Todd, I think it would be better if I meet you there." 

"Whatever you say, Charlie, I'll take you anyway I can get you. See ya tonight." 

"See ya, Todd."