Doing Father Like Son

Since Hallmark has no fucking greeting cards out there to tell your boyfriend of two years that you’re having a fling with his estranged father, you simply don’t tell him. You keep your fucking piehole shut and hope and pray the man that you’ve spent the last three months calling “Daddy” don’t tell his fucking son and possibly risk blowing his own marriage with your family member.

It would be a lot less Jerry Springer-ish if I could say this all happened right before I got together with my boo or that it all popped off in the infancy of our relationship. Unfortunately, I can’t lay that kind of claim because it didn’t work out that way. In my defense, though, I would’ve never gone there with Clayvin had I known that he was AJ’s father—or, at least, I would hope I wouldn’t. I mean it’s a really tough call considering that I’ve known father long before son was even thought of! Besides, Clayvin was the same man that had been running butt-naked in my dreams, swinging dick and all, since I was knee-high to a grasshopper.

I first met Clayvin when Aunt Rochelle brought him over to meet everyone at a backyard family barbecue. I won’t say I was impressed right away, but I had nothing against him either. Everyone else in the family pretty much sat on the fence about him because while he seemed to be a good guy, there was no way to get around that he was sixteen years older than my then-eighteen-year-old aunt. And after he started coming around a little more often, I quickly developed this little kiddy crush on him that slowly started to grow into something much more.

I think it reached a fever pitch after I bought my clunker during my junior year of high school. I bought the pile of bolts thinking it was going to be a cinch to fix it on up minus the small fact I knew absolutely nothing about fixing up cars. Fortunately for me, Aunt Rochelle still had Clayvin around, and he helped me out while waiting on his workman’s comp check to come through. He knew barely a hair more than I did. But the difference was he knew a few mechanics that owed him a favor or two. Even with them working on the car and explaining everything to me, that didn’t stop Clayvin from jumping in and looking the part, putting on a pair of heavy coveralls just to come out of them partway five minutes later to show off the lean muscles of his upper body. 

He had to have been around forty at the time strutting around with the body of a seventeen-year-old boy with a solid bird chest and limbs that looked like they belonged on a malnourished tree. While he looked like a scrawny kid to most, he looked like the ultimate fantasy to a closeted boy with his white chocolate skin and nappy auburn hair with freckles to match. It didn’t hurt him a bit that he was tall and lanky in a goofily handsome way either.

It was only after being with my aunt for thirteen years that Clayvin eventually got around to marrying her at this over-the-top ceremony at the neighborhood rec center. It was weird. Even though Clayvin had been with her all that time, and most of us started to considered him family long before that, I felt like my chances of him ever being mine was forever gone with that marriage certificate. It wasn’t like I had a chance to be with him to begin with. But still. I was so distraught it took me a whole year to get around to fucking again after that travesty of a wedding. Nevertheless though, every night I went to bed after that, I took his face and his body working under my hood into my dreams.

Fast forward about ten years later and I’m a little over five years into my coaching career at a local high school when I’m forced to substitute for one of the teachers during a couple of my off periods. Being a popular coach at the school, my day could not have gone any smoother with the students doing exactly as I say and kept it moving until the bell rung. I thought I was doing fine when I saw the backend of this tall chubby suntanned dude get up from out of his desk. He had this big ol’ badonkadunk that made my dick surely take notice of. I had to hide it behind a book real quick so I didn’t get into any trouble. I guess I was a little slow to it because as the dude was walking on out of my classroom, he looked back and winked at me, and then smacked his own jiggly butt cheek. I tried playing it off, like I didn’t see what he did, but we both knew that I did.

A few days later, I catch him strolling through the gymnasium during one of my classes like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like it didn’t faze him he was interrupting my class with his presence. So after I get my class started off in a game of basketball, I pull him over to the side and ask him why I hadn’t seen him around before. More importantly than that, how come with his enormous size he never considered playing football for the school. He smiled and licked his full lips, saying some shit on the sly to the fact he finally got me to pay him some attention. Then he told me he’d just transferred down from Oakland about a couple of weeks prior and had he known what a phyne football coach I was, he probably would’ve opted to live with his big sister much sooner. As my jaw dropped to his boldness, he let me in on his name, AJ, and that he was a senior.

After we were done, AJ gave me another hard wink and went about his merry little way.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the boy was gay. The thing that got me was despite his frankness about it he wasn’t the flamboyant stereotype. And though he didn’t do much to hide he was gay he still came off as one of the most masculine dudes at that school. Of course, that is, whenever he wasn’t trying to flirt with me or eyeing down one of his many age-appropriate male classmates. Even then, it wasn’t like he was out there as he was trying to dare anyone to say something negative about it.

After that, he kept on pushing up on me. In return, I kept on pushing jailbait on back. Even though he was legal, and I was feeling him and he wasn’t in any of my classes, it still felt wrong.

Being that I was constantly getting my dick teased by the eighteen-year-old at school, I decided one night to hit one of the clubs for some ass when he magically showed up at the same spot. My initial reaction was to turn him around and tell him to go home at once. But, again, as far as the club was concerned, he was grown enough to party. I played it cooled, trying to grab at some of the cheeks closer to my age. I think I’m getting somewhere with a few of them when the music started to play. AJ wasn’t fat in the least, but his thick build forced many of the small petite dudes I was trying to get at out the way as he tried his best to grind that big ol’ badonkadunk of his on my dick. I tried to get it down and stand by my morals, but he wasn’t hearing none of that until he got a full firm salute from out of my corduroys.

After the club closed, we snuck off to this café where we talked it out, or rather me warning him not to tell anybody back at school I was at that club. I had a reputation to protect, and he respected that. Though, I did feel a little embarrassed about asking him to keep his lips sealed about something he was obviously so open about. I sort of asked him about that in a roundabout way. His frank answer was that he didn’t give a shit who knew about what he did. And going to a new school with kids that he didn’t grow up with and this being his last year of high school, where he wasn’t likely to see them ever again, it made it quite easy. Whereas with me, he understood I would have to continue to walk through that door as long as I worked at that school. When I asked him was he worried about some of the guys messing with him, he said he wasn’t worried. He jokingly puffed out his chest and said that he had his great size to protect him (which was true by the way). Later on, he admitted it didn’t protect him from his brother-in-law giving him and his sister grief about him being gay. But he didn’t let him get him down too much since he proudly boasted sucking off his brother-in-law’s favorite cousin on the side.

Our sexual tension began to rise as the school year came to a close. We were no longer playing with the possibility if it was going to happen as we were when it was going to go down. AJ, being young and horny and anxious to have his near-virgin booty popped by my more experienced dick, thought the sooner the better. And while I knew that another cold shower wasn’t going to do the trick with his booty torturing me, I at least thought I had enough restraint to hold back until after he graduated.

I was down in my office finishing up some end-of-the-year paperwork before school officially let out for the summer when I heard him come barging through my office. AJ was upstairs finishing up with his graduation rehearsal when he decided to come downstairs and pick a fight with me. I knew something had been bothering him for awhile, but he would never open up and talk about it. I wasn’t about to let it go, and he was too stubborn to break—until then. He let me know that things with his brother-in-law was coming to a head, and because he stopped sucking off that cousin of his, that cousin was starting to instigate a lot of stuff between them. Whatever happened that day or that night before, AJ decided to let me have it for every man that enjoyed using his dick. I didn’t help matters by me joining him in arguing, raising my voice and cussing him out for trying to bust me out. AJ decided he wanted to be grown and try to punch me. I returned the favor by punching him back and then slapping him down to the ground like he was a little bitch. I think for the first time in his natural born life he had never been so scared. But instead of acting like he was ready to do something, he looked like he was ready to do something.

Although everything played out in slow motion, it felt like everything was moving too fast for me, as he took my zipper and got right between my thighs. I wanted to push him away, to tell him to hold off on that shit. But my lust told my head to shut the fuck up because my dick was waiting to be tongued down. He didn’t disappoint either, giving my dick the respect it deserved, stroking it and tasting it like it was the best thing he had ever put in his mouth. I hated to say it, but he had me. He had me. I was putting it on everything, cussing and grumbling and clutching the edge of my desk. I told him I was about to nutt. I told him. I told him. But he just kept on doing his thing like he hadn’t heard a word. And when the moment came to pop, I came and came and came some more, and he drank it up like a thirsty man.

I have to say it was kind of hot knowing when he crossed the stage to get his diploma with my jizz stirring in his belly after a third blowjob in less than twenty-four hours.

This was just the begging of what was to come. He spent the next year or so faithfully lending me his throat and ass to fuck on a daily basis. I didn’t even have to say shit. All I had to do was think about getting a hard-on and AJ was on it like a dog’s nose to smelly butt. He proved to be a wonderful boyfriend in some many other ways, but having the same person day in and day out can quickly grow to be quite mundane, especially when my original intent was to get some ass from him for a couple of months and keep it moving.

Like most couples, we began to have some problems. One problem turned into five and five into a million. He started doing small shit he knew would get under my skin. I started to do some shit I knew would get under his. We kept going at each other before I eventually broke down and got in front of the computer. I decided it was time to get reacquainted with some of my old favorite websites, considering I was having sex with a guy that considered watching porn a form of cheating. I figured if my baby thought jacking off to a few XXX clips of folks doing it as just as bad as having another dude on my dick, why not just hit up a sex party to add a little spice to my life? I wasn’t planning on spending the rest of my life with AJ, so in my mind it was cool. I knew the fags in San Diego and Los Angeles were going to talk so I decided to find a group that catered to a different crowd than I usually messed with.

My intent was to go to one party and head back home. It didn’t take long before one turned into three and I became the star of the show with nearly five power bottoms on my dick at almost every party. And because I was usually one of a handful of black guys, I became just a hair more special than everybody else in attendance.

It was at the fourth or fifth party where I noticed there were a lot more black guys present than any other time before, and in the darkness, I kept on feeling this light-skinned dude looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I kept on trying to get near him, but just about every time I got to the place to get close enough to him, I got blocked by some cum-hunger bottom feeder desperate to service me. Somehow, I ended up back-to-back with another naked guy on the receiving end of a blowjob when he began to grunt. I thought nothing of it at first. But the more the cocksucker persisted, the more the oral top gave in, grunting to the point it sounded very familiar. As I tried to get off on my own dick being tongue-bathed, an image of my aunt’s then-boyfriend slamming into her on the top of my grandma’s dresser came into mind. I shook my head, knowing it couldn’t be. I was a nice-sized guy, and the back and ass that was pressed against mine was just as big and fleshy. I just couldn’t see Clayvin deciding to put on some grown man weight after all these years. But it had been close to ten years since the last time I saw him, and it turned out he did just that.

After I saw it was him, I eased on out of the way, trying not to draw any attention to myself. As I was trying to come out of the large room, Clayvin came after me, and nearly passed out when he saw it was me. We both tried to go back to what we were doing. To pretend it just didn’t happen. Just like any sane people, though, it felt pretty weird being at a sex party as an uncle and nephew duo.

A week later, Clayvin and I ended up at a family barbecue where we avoided each other like the plague until he nervously invited me along on a liquor run. I was nervous about getting into the car with him alone, but I manned up. We indulged in a little bit of small talk before the car just went silent. After awhile, I noticed he started driving around in these large circles around the neighborhood.

“Are we going to get into what happened last weekend?”

Clayvin kept on looking forward at the road. His meaty ringed fingers gripping the steering wheel even tighter.

I continued. “Don’t worry, I ain’t say shit to Aunt Rochelle ‘cause I’ve been doing a damn good job keeping my shit under wraps after all these years. I’m not about to get into it with any of them about what I do.”

I came from a very tight close-knit family that was quite religious, and as long as I showed them a girlfriend or two every couple of years, I was pretty much good with them.

“Cool. Cool.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “It just happened that one time, you know.”

“Look, you don’t have to lie to me, man. I know it takes awhile to work to get into those kinds of parties, so you don’t have to bullshit me like some punk.”

A long pause grew between us.

“You know I long figured you as the type for messing around.” He eventually said, easing his grips on the wheel.

“What you mean?”

“You just always seemed more comfortable with men than with your girlfriend and shit. Like when we were fixing up your car back then, you really seemed to take to Reggie, the sweaty guy, flirting with you like that, but you threw everybody for a loop running off with one of those chickenheads, which was cool because I felt you were a bit too young to be going down that road with my boy. But knowing him, if you were game so was he.”

I laughed thinking about Reggie, because I didn’t think of him as flirting with me as I thought he was trying to be friendly with me as a way to pass the time. Looking back on it, I could see how it could be that and had I known I would’ve been game.

So, we got the liquor and came back to the party. Everything seemed to be cool, before he got piss drunk. Aunt Rochelle wouldn’t take him with her and my grandma wouldn’t let him crash there, so I took him over to the roach motel to sober up.

A few days later, Clayvin and I kept on crossing paths. He wanted to apologize for getting wasted and thank me for putting him up. He said that even though he had my word I wasn’t going to say anything about the sex party, he couldn’t help not to be on the edge that somebody was just going to blurt something out.

A couple of cups of coffee turned into a few conversations over a few nice meals before the two of us started flirting with each other. It started off innocently with a few glances here and there before we found ourselves rolling around on the bed in some motel room making out and pawing each other out of our clothes.

“Damn, you’re sexy as fuck!” Clayvin huffed with his full weight on top of me and his dick so hard that I swore it was going to tear through his cotton briefs.

“You too, baby, you too.” I said, licking my lips before going in for another kiss.

We got sort of caught up in this dance that both fighting and foreplay mixed in together. It was like a battle to the death I surely would’ve won had he stuck to his same old size from a long time ago.

I conceded to his victory by springing his dick out of its prison. It was an ugly thing. Not like the stories seem to tell you. It looked more like a thick dirty uncooked hot dog with its tip partially wrapped in a spotted blanket. I couldn’t even get my thoughts together if I wanted to do this or not before he was straddling my face and forced it between my lips. He poked my mouth every which way that it took me a long time to figure out he was returning the favor.

We did this for awhile. He sucked me. I sucked him; in the bed, off the bed, in a chair, on the furniture. We spun around into so many different acrobatic positions across the room to accomplish this goal it was confusing. I wasn’t sure if it was real or if I was dreaming because my head wasn’t all there. I didn’t get my sense of certainty of which world I was in until it became all too real all too late. There I was on my stomach with my face snug within the pillow and my legs splayed out with his face deep in my crack when his incessant feel-good tongue was replaced by the once-familiar smear of petroleum jelly. Clayvin toyed with my dusty hole and climbed up to my ear to whisper his sweet promises before he slipped it in.

He rode my back. His fucking wasn’t sweet or kind or loving as I would’ve hoped or dared dreamed since it had been so long since I gave up the booty. But his raw sexing didn’t lack any of the fireworks as he skillfully made me grunt and groan and gasp with every stride, keeping an arch in my back with his hands wrapped around my neck every time his dick filled me again and again.

Clayvin came with no announcement. He just stammered and grumbled like a random sated man emptying his load into a nondescript depository. I could’ve been a gloryhole for all he cared. I felt less than used, thinking he forgot all about me on the other end of him and had me to question like some bitch was this what I really wanted from him all this time. I was ready to bolt when I soon felt the sliminess of his hand on my dick and saw I had come, too. I couldn’t even speak. I was more surprised than anybody, even floored that he smeared it against my hole, mixing it in with the grease and his own semen and started in on me again. I took him, though. Like a pro. I kept firm to the wall when the bed wasn’t enough. I couldn’t come up with any audible words still trying to catch my breath. He rode my ass hard and faster, like a death row inmate that knew he was getting it in for the last time and came so hard I thought I was going through the divider and into the other room.

*          *          *

I had been doing what I had been doing with Clayvin for about three months straight when I came home one day to AJ sitting on the sofa crying. I thought I had been cold busted when I learned he had got this heartfelt letter from his divorced sister telling him that his father wasn’t really his father and that his father was here in California somewhere.

Even though I wasn’t bargaining for any of this, I reluctantly began to help AJ search for his father. It was about three months into the search I finally began to put some of the pieces of the puzzle together about the past. It revolved around a conversation I just happened to have with Clayvin about the time my aunt and him took that break a couple of years after they hooked up because it was rumored he’d knocked up some married chick. After doing the math, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

How the fuck was I supposed to know that I was doing father like son?