Daddy issues

It was always hard growing up gay in the family of a professional athlete. Mike Carter played football in the NFL. Not exactly a mega-star, but you learn from an early age that being in the pro leagues is special and people treat you accordingly. Everywhere Josh went, his dad was treated like royalty. They lived in a suburban Florida community, where Mike was a local celebrity.

It's hard to live underneath that shadow, the son found out. Josh took up ball, did OK in middle school and even made the varsity cut, but by junior year it was apparent he wasn't going to be destined for a college scholarship, much less an illustrious career. Especially when an injury sidelined him one game. Josh took up lacrosse the following year and realized he was just better at that, anyway, despite the pressure he had to be a star athlete. The pressure to be Mike Carter’s football prodigy of a son.

Coming out was just another strike against Josh. His Dad took it in stride, but Josh could tell he was disappointed. That he felt he'd failed in raising a real man. "You're my boy and I'll support whatever life you lead," he said, in a tone that told me this was his final word on the subject, "but just don't bring any one home. Don't think I or your mother are ready for that."

* * *

Josh was not one to mope and if any thing he drowned his sorrows in sex. Moved to New York out of college. Got a good job that worked him too many hours, but the upside was how frickin' easy it was to get laid in the city. Men were everywhere: at work, on the street, online. The biggest rush came in the realization that guys wanted him. Wanted him really bad. He don't know what it was, but he had "it"... the looks, the body, youth, the whole jock thing. Had a couple of men tell him his cock was perfect. Guys wanted his dick, wanted to suck it, to rub it, to get fucked by it. Josh was 22 years old and happy to oblige.

He held off getting fucked, though. Till one night. Trolling an internet site, one older man kept hitting him up. The guy wasn't an A-list beauty, but he was really handsome in his way. Even in chat he had the gift of gab. Soon he was telling Josh how he likes to break in cherry guys. Rather than being put off, the young ex-jock was stripping down his trousers and stroking his hard as nails cock. Turned out Tim lived three blocks from him. Invited him over. In ten minutes Josh was knocking on his door.

Tim took his time. So much sex had been wham bam and over. Even though Josh didn't know this guy's last name, the older man made love to him, pushing him down to the bed and crawling on top of his tall, built frame. Kissing every inch of his muscled body body, from the smooth upper chest to the sensitive nips down the treasure trail Sucking Josh's hard cock. Rimming him. Caressing his chest and neck. By the time Tim started sinking his prick in, Josh felt relaxed and ready. Getting screwed felt pretty fantastic he decided.

Josh Carter was hooked.

* * *

Josh couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Polo Shirt. The guy was perfect. In his head he replayed their tryst and jerked his cock, but he edged himself all day, always stopping before shooting, letting his balls pulse and his cock dribble onto his abs. It was nice to have a new guy in his fantasies, he thought getting up and slipping on sweatpants before laundry to get his mind off sex. He hesitated and talked himself out of it a dozen times, but come 11 o’clock on Saturday night, he was showering and douching, just in case, and putting on what Darren had called his "fuck me" outfit: a worn Ohio State lacrosse T-shirt, his beaten Mets cap, and some jeans that showed off his bubble butt perfectly.

He showed up at the scene of the crime. The bar was even more packed on Saturday night than the night before. Maybe he'd have to make a couple of passes around the crowd to spot him. But no dice. Josh even waited an extra hour, then another. The crowd thinned out. Mr. Polo Shirt definitely wasn't showing up tonight.

He was about out the door when a man walked up to him. Fifth guy of the night to do so, actually, but this was the first older guy. Josh would guess late 40s. Salt-and-pepper, medium build with a little middle-aged spread, corporate looking dude. Probably a professional dude by day but he had on a sleek designer gray T and dark jeans. Handsome, but not in Josh's league. And not in Mr. Polo Shirt’s league either.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Josh said, not sure if he wanted anything with this man. He realized it came off as diffident, but the man took the opening anyway and was going to the bar to get him a vodka and 7.

"I can't believe you're here alone," the man said returning with the drinks. "You're the hottest guy in the place, by far." Sometimes the direct approach was a turn off for Josh, but something about this guy's easygoing confidence was turning him on. That, and he was feeling super horny from an afternoon of edging and an evening of thinking about Polo Shirt.

"Maybe I'm not their type," Josh said, gesturing to the packed place.

The guy looked the young stud up and down, taking his time and being obvious. "You're everyone's type," he finally said. "You can't kid me, I've seen you turn down 3 hot guys and that's just in the last 30 minutes."

Josh blushed.

"Sorry," the man said. "Didn't mean to be too forward, but well, I've been watching you for the last hour, at least."

Josh's defenses were starting to melt more. He was grooving on this guy's flattery, maybe it was just what he needed tonight. He offered his hand and introduced himself. "I'm Josh, by the way."

"Patrick," the man replied, grasping Josh's hand in a firm, business-like grasp.

The two made small talk for a bit, setting into a good rapport, until Josh said, "Can I ask you a question?'

"Yeah, shoot."

"What made you come up to me? After you saw me turn down three guys? I'm curious."

Patrick shrugged his shoulders. "What did I have to lose? You can't live your life afraid of rejection. And, yeah, trust me, I know you're way out of my league.... no that's OK, you don't have to deny it, I know it, bud. But the way you were standing there, kinda waiting, I got this sense you were looking for something tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And had this vibe that maybe you're into older guys." His eyes were boring into Josh's know. At first Josh averted his gaze but then got the courage to stare back, signaling his mutual desire.

That made the older man smile. "Fuck, I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yeah," Josh grinned, no longer shy but relieved to have it in the open.

"Cool."

The two stood, their faces a foot apart, eyes locked. Josh's hand drifted forward and bumped against Patrick's, which gripped onto it and held it.

"I so want to kiss you right now," Patrick whispered.

"Me too," Josh said, and their faces met for a slow kiss.

"Nice," Patrick said as they broke apart.

"Yes."

"Tell me," Patrick said. "You're young, you're hot, you like older men. Why hasn't some guy calling you his boyfriend? Or you not into dating?"

Josh normally kept his emotions guarded in these situations, using sexual aggression as a shield. Something about this guy made him open up. "Other way around."

Patrick looked at him questioningly.

"A lot of men like younger guys, but they don't want to date us. Maybe we're not mature enough for them or we make them feel old. Or maybe the guy's ashamed that he's fucking someone young enough to be his son. Or maybe we would embarrass him in front of his friends." He thought about Steve, the 48-year-old advertising exec he'd had a few dates with. The sex was great, but it felt like that's all it was. The whole vibe was off for dating. Pretty soon it had turned into late night booty call texts, until Josh called it off.

The man laughed.

"What?" Josh asked.

"It cuts both ways, buddy. You don't know how many young bucks I've met who are interested in some daddy dick. Only the second they blow their load, they're scrambling to get out the door. Don't get me wrong. I've had some mindblowing lays helping a guy like you explore his desires, but well... tell me you haven't not called a guy back because you were ashamed at how good the sex was."

Josh blushed and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, maybe."

The man flashed a pearly white smile and clapped Josh's back with a friendly pat. "Don't worry, stud, I'm not passing judgment. I'm just saying it's hard all around to really connect with someone. Here," he clinked glasses "To new friendships," he said.

Josh sipped then spoke. "So... I take it you're into younger guys."

Without missing a beat, he answered. "Yep. College boys are my favorite." He looked at Josh as if he wanted to ask a question.

"Sorry. Just graduated," he replied to his silent query. "I'm 23."

"You look younger." He paused and took a swig of beer. "I shouldn't be saying this, but, well, if you wanna use me for a night of daddy sex and kick me to the curb, I won't complain."

Those brown eyes were boring into Josh's. Eager, nervous. Patrick leaned forward, and Josh did, too. Right there in the bar, their mouths met and lips connected again. The kiss sent goose pimples down Josh's back.

"Let's get out of here."

"Yeah."

* * *

Ryan Miller was miles away, on a quick trip to Las Vegas to meet an old baseball buddy of his on the West Coast. Greg was straight and married but the two men had always had a no-nonsense friendship.

"All right, who is he?" Greg said as the two leaned back against the casino nightclub bar.

"Who?"

"The guy you've been moping about all night. What gives? You got a case of heartbreak, buddy?"

Ryan laughed, a little wistfully. "Nah. I don't even know the dude's name. Just a hookup from Friday night."

"Damn, you gay guys," Greg kidded. "Seriously, how’d he get into your head? Or should I ask?"

"I dunno. He's just perfect. A college kid, jock, big but not too big, my type to a fucking T." He lowered his voice. "And you ever meet someone he gives good head? I mean, really fucking good head?" He didn't always talk sex details with his friend, but the alcohol had loosened him up. Besides, it felt good to get it off his chest. He'd been thinking about Josh nonstop the last two days.

"Yessir, buddy," Greg winked. "I'm married to her."

"Maybe I should have put a ring on it," Ryan joked and the two clinked their drinks.

"In the meantime... plenty more fish in the sea."

"True that," Ryan chimed in but inside he knew he wasn't getting any younger.

* * *

Josh slept in on Sunday. Better than he had in a long time. He really should get laid more often. He pulled down the sheets and was greeted by a nice piece of morning wood poking up nice and high. I thought these puppies would have been drained, Josh thought, as he cupped his balls.

He'd been prepared to bottom last night, but as he and Patrick wrestled around the bed, the older man let Josh pin him underneath. "Fuck me," he'd growled into Josh's ear, "Fuck me, College Boy," his legs spreading and latching around the young ex-jock's waist. If Corporate Daddy wanted it, who was Josh to refuse? The man had offered to let Josh take him bare, but Josh had insisted on a rubber. Sheathed up, slathered on some lube, and then took his time opening and penetrating the man's hole.

Patrick had grunted when Josh's prick punched all the way in. The younger man didn't have a prizewinning cock in size, but it was big enough to make itself known. And it did. Both men paused and made out, till Josh felt the tight anal walls relax a little. Then it was time to fuck.

They did it face to face for a while, till Patrick asked to flip over. He lay flat, except for his nice, hard ass that stuck straight up. "C'mon, now, fuck your daddy," he growled.

That did it. Flipped Josh's switch. He pounced now, covering Patrick's older body with his own perfect muscled framed. Wedged his hardon inside the man and started fucking again. Hard. Pinning the man's arms to the bed. "Like this Dad?" Throwing it out there....

"Yeah son. Harder. Fuck Daddy harder."

They were doing full-on roleplay now. A first for Josh, and it was driving him mad. The words spewed out, nasty father fantasies that were bottled up. And Patrick played along, feeding him sex talk right back. It didn't take long before the two came, Josh a half-minute behind Patrick. When the young man pulled out, his prick was still half-hard, a thick balloon of semen trapped in the condom's tip.

Patrick had invited him to stay over, but Josh declined. He felt embarrassed, even ashamed now that it was over. It had been amazing sex, but now Patrick the Daddy had turned back into Patrick the ordinary corporate guy. Josh just wanted to get out of there.

Man, I'm some kind of fucked up, Josh thought. Reliving last night's events and telling himself it was just sex play. Fantasy. He started a slow stroke on his morning bone, feeling the excitement return.

He let go of his cock and walked across the room. Grabbed his laptop and powered it on. Plopped back on the bed. He had a folder where he kept his hidden stash. Some dad-son stories from the internet which they were great, but if Josh really wanted a good strong ejaculation, he had a couple of special jpegs. It was wrong he knew but he took them of his father with a cameraphone when he wasn't aware. Toweling off after a shower, changing bathing suit at the beach. Even soft, his phallus was magnificent. Then there was a face shot a local newspaper photographer had made of him, the rough sun-kissed texture of his face and the steely blue stare did it for Josh.

All right, Josh more than admired his father. He desired him. From his teenage years, the younger Carter would jerk off and shut his eyes til he could see him vividly. Mike Carter in all his 6'5" glory. Bare chested blond fur covering his torso. In Josh's fantasies his dad would reach down and undo the button on his jeans and that was enough to set him off. To spew his load everywhere.

Even years on, at age 24, it was enough to make him spew everywhere. That one photo of his father with the after-practice sunburn and the steely blue stare.

Josh thought of Mr. Polo Shirt. He would't say the looked like Dad exactly, but there was something about him. Same height, same strong jaw and roman nose, same hair color, same jock demeanor, same steely blue-eyed stare. Josh knew he'd go back to that same bar, trying to find him again.

In fact, he repeated the process that Sunday night. Even ended up at a couple of Chelsea bars, just in case the man stuck closer to his neighborhood. It was a needle in a haystack, but something compelled Josh. He wanted to see the man again, to suck the guy off again. But mostly he wanted another chance.