58mich - Tumblr blog

58mich · 19 hours

Text

Supporting My Son - Part 1

“Eric, are you sure you want to do this? I can take us back home if you want. Now, or at any time.”

“Yeah, Dad. I definitely want to do this. But thanks for checking. And hey, I appreciate you coming along. I know it’s a little unusual.”

Unusual to say the least. My son had asked me to accompany him to group sex scene. And here I was, driving him to it.

Eric was a good kid. Smart and kind, well adjusted. He did well in sports and school. He was so damn balanced that you’d think the kid wouldn’t have a care in the world. But during his early teen years he seemed a little withdrawn. Sad.

“Come on, sport,” I had asked him. “What’s going on? You can tell me anything.” I didn’t get much response the first few times I asked. But one day the dam broke and it all came flooding out. “Dad, I’m gay,” he blurted out.

I put my arms around my boy and told him I loved him. His mother and I both did, and we always would. Regardless of his sexuality.

Things started to make sense. I had wondered why a good-looking kid like Eric was so withdrawn, why he wasn’t dating. I kicked myself for all the times I had asked him about the girls at school, or tried to engage him in admiring some attractive woman walking by. I had wanted to create an openness between us, a comfort about his growing into dating and love and sex. Instead I unwittingly communicated that he could confide in me if it was about girls. Shit.

I felt bad for missing this important part of who Eric was and I resolved to make up for it. I called up a few of my gay buddies and learned what I could about gay life and how to support Eric. I knew the basics—who didn’t? But I wanted to do better than that. We had talked about the birds and the bees, but he needed to know I could deal with birds and birds too, since he was wired that way. My wife and I were determined to raise our kids with openness and acceptance about sex. We didn’t want any of the secrecy and shame we’d endured in our conservative upbringings.

And slowly, Eric began to confide in me. He became sexually active and trusted me enough to tell me about that first time. He was even bold enough to share his feelings about it, telling me about what he liked, what he didn’t, and what he wanted to try next time. Some parents might blanch at the details but not me. I was determined to maintain an open door.

Eric kept exploring, and he had now done more since that first time but he didn’t necessarily bring me into the details. Not until last month when he came forward with a new situation and a pile of questions about it. He had started getting together with an older man, a guy in his mid-thirties. Eric said he felt so different about jt than when he was playing around with other boys from school. He had questions about adult sex and unspoken expectations. I tried to do my best to listen non-judgmentally, to keep our communication open.

“So is this Rich your boyfriend?”

“No. It’s not like that. Not exactly. We do go out and have fun together. But mostly we’re about sex. And that’s a ton of fun! I’m really learning a lot from him.”

Eric confided that he was attracted to older guys. Not just Rich but the whole category. Something about the differences between him and them really got him worked up.

It scared me a little to hear it. And I worried he’d get hurt. But I was now at an age when plenty of my friends divorced their wives and started playing around with younger women. I was now seeing that dynamic from the other side of the equation.

But today Eric was getting together with more than just Rich. He was going to a party, a “play party,” with Rich and handful of guys. All of them older.

“I really want to do it, Dad. I have this fantasy about sucking off a bunch of guys all at once. I get so hot just thinking about it. But I also feel like it’s a tricky situation to go into. I suppose things could get out of hand. Would you consider coming with me? Just to be there in case of trouble.”

“Do you trust Rich?”

“Yes, I do trust him. But I don’t know the others and, I dunno. I just think I’d feel better knowing you were there.”

“OK, Eric. I can come along. If you really want me there.” It was an odd situation, to be sure. There was nothing in the parenting manuals for this! But I was impressed with the kid’s sense of responsibility and his concern for risk. Of course I’d help, even it was unorthodox. A little discomfort on my part was much better than reading about trouble the next day in the paper.

So here we were, at Rich’s front door, waiting for him to let us in.

“Last chance, buddy. You totally sure?”

“Yeah. A hundred percent.” Eric smiled. And then Rich opened the door.

The guy looked normal enough. Given the party he was hosting I had been expecting some sort of sex god. You know, one of those gay gays with the gym body and the Hollywood face and designer clothes. But Rich looked, well, a lot like another suburban dad. His face was more department store catalog than Hollywood billboard, and his body held onto some fitness from his youth while slowly giving way to age: hair receding at the temples, a soft belly to temper the muscles on his broad back and big shoulders. And he was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt—none of the leather stuff I’d see guys strutting around in at Pride. Frankly, it took my anxiety down a notch or two. I could relate to this guy. He wasn’t so different from me.

“Hey there!” Rich called. He gave my boy a ten-second kiss on the lips before turning to me and extending a hand.

“Hello as well. And you are?”

“Eric’s dad.”

“OK, cool. Are joining us—“

“I’m just here to watch.”

“OK, cool. Fine, fine. Come in and I’ll get you set you set up.”

Rich led us inside and down to the basement/rec room where four other guys were drinking beer and talking. These men looked pretty normal too, like this could have been a watch party for Sunday football instead of a meetup for group sex.

“Beer?” Rich handed me a bottle.

“Sure, thanks.”

“Why don’t you take that chair over there?” Rich gestured to a leather arm chair toward the corner. “You’ll be out of the way but still have good sight lines for everything.”

The rec room was some kind of split level, with a lower part that would have been a TV pit at my house. But there was no TV here; just a ping pong table set up in the middle. The chair Rich sent me to was on the upper level looking down on the guys milling around the table. I settled in, putting my beer on the side table next to a pile of small towels and a small bottle.

When I looked back down, I saw Eric kissing one of Rich’s friends. Two others locked lips with each other. Rich stood to the side, adjusting some background music and dimming the lights. The couples came apart, mixed themselves up, and came back together in new couplings. Arms went around shoulders and waists. Hands slipped down to grab butt cheeks and rub crotches.

Wow, I thought. This shit moves fast. I took a big gulp from my beer.

The six of them groped and kissed, the older men taking turns with Eric and passing him around. Eric flowed along with it, totally at ease and natural. His skin flushed with the attention.

The kissing and groping turned from playful to serious. The men stripped my son, getting him naked and touching and stroking his body like it was their possession. I watched for signs of distress but Eric showed none. The kid was happy, in his element.

Eric sunk to his knees and unbuckled their pants: one guy first, then another, and another. He took a cock in each hand, stroking, while his mouth went to work on the man in front of him.

Up top, the men pulled off their sweatshirts and henleys, getting naked and kissing each other while practically ignoring Eric, except to give him the occasional pat on the head.

Eric sucked and stroked them happily as the men formed a ring around him. He smiled like a glutton at a Christmas buffet. He was in heaven, and I was surprised at how at ease I felt with it. I guess his enthusiasm enabled my comfort.

The sucking progressed and everyone got more and more worked up. Salivia bubbled out of the sides of Eric’s mouth; strings of it trailed down from dicks and glinted in the light. Eric’s face was wet and his neck shone with spit.

Rich lifted my boy onto the table, placing him on his back. Eric’s head tilted back and a man stuffed a cock into him. My dick jumped at the sight. It was a weird reflex, but I guess we all respond to graphic scenes.

Rick raised Eric’s legs and pulled my son’s cheeks apart. He spat on Eric’s butthole and rubbed with his fingers. He pushed a few in. I heard Eric’s moan even from the back of the room.

I hadn’t realized there would be fucking. Eric said his fantasy was oral, and I thought maybe I should call a time out, stop them. But then I saw the look on Eric’s face. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted this. Bad.

Rich worked him a little bit more, teasing Eric’s hole with his fingers before pushing in his cock. Whoa. Nothing can prepare you for the sight of your son being penetrated. I squirmed. But quietly. I didn’t want to draw attention.

Rich began to fuck. Eric’s body shuddered and the table thumped as he absorbed the blows. Eric’s eyes rolled back to the whites.

Then another guy came up, and Rich made way for a new spit-soaked cock to push its way in. Eric looked up intently, as if he were recording the sight, sound, and feeling of someone new taking ownership of his hole.

The men took turns, trading off unhurriedly, all of them getting in there for a good rut. Each one fucked to the point of near-release but then pulled out to cool off and keep things going.

My crotch grew uncomfortable. I was flashing back to a similar scene, way back in college, when two buddies and I had taken turns with a girl at a party. She was known to be loose, the kind of girl who craves as much cock as you can give her. I rubbed at my pants.

Intensity built down on the ping pong table. And in my pants too. I suddenly realized what the towels on the side table were for, and what the little plastic bottle held. I wouldn’t have expected to be doing this when I first came in and sat down. But now I couldn’t help but unzip and take out my cock.

The guys down below started to cum. One shot his load into my boy. Another painted his face and Eric lapped what he could with a flailing tongue.

Up here I slid my cock skin up and down, banging the edges of my fingers against the flare of my cockhead. Dammit. I was going to shoot too.

I blasted into one of the little towels right as Eric got another load inside him. I let out a little groan without realizing it. Eric turned his head to the side and looked at me. My cheeks burned with shame.

Eric winked and I knew he didn’t judge me for my response. I exhaled a relieved sigh.

Rich scooped some cum off Eric’s face and neck and used it to jack my boy. He leaned down for a long kiss and let Eric explode onto his chest.

There was laughter and more kissing while the guys helped Eric down from the table. Everyone began wiping up. I put my dick away and hoped no one had noticed what I’d been doing in the background.

The men got dressed and Rich came over to me.

“All good over here?”

“Yeah. It was a little weird to see my boy get fucked like that, but I guess I’ll get over it.”

“You guys don’t do that together?”

“Of course not! He’s my son.”

“Oh shit! You mean you’re his real dad. Wow, I never thought of that. But now that you mention it, I can see the resemblance.” My cheeks burned. “Anyway, you’re a cool dad for making this happen for him.”

Rich walked us to the door and gave Eric a smoldering kiss. I turned my head and tried to ignore a strange tightness in my chest.

Rich closed the door and I turned to face Eric. I put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on buddy, let’s go home.”

END Part 1. Stay tuned for Part 2!

Find more of my work at:

68 notes · View notes