His Father's Son

Looking back on it, I always knew my parents didn’t have a good marriage. I often blamed it on Dad’s busy law practice, but the real reason was apparent when I left for college. Dad promptly served my mom with divorce papers, resigned from his law firm, packed his bags, moved to Miami, and shacked up with a guy named Kevin.

“You’re gonna love Kevin,” Dad assured me, pulling on his Ray-Bans while merging onto I-95. “Kevin is . . . uh . . . a lot like you.”

“Mom says Kevin is my age?” I asked trying to hide my sarcasm.

“Almost,” Dad coughed. “He’s young like you. But he makes me happy.” And then trying to change the subject, Dad asked, “What about you? You getting a lot of pussy at school?”

“Yeah,” I replied, looking out the passenger window to avoid Dad’s gaze. “Lots of pussy.”

The truth was that I had been getting a lot of cock during my first year of college. The proverbial apple had not fallen far from the tree. The irony of being in the closet around my newly “out and proud” father was not lost on me. Yet I wasn’t ready for him to know that I was also gay. I needed to keep it to myself for a little longer. It wouldn’t be much longer.

“Great to meet you, Martin,” Kevin smiled, extending his hand when we arrived to the oceanfront condo he shared with my dad in Bal Harbour. “Your Dad talks about you all the time.” My jaw dropped. Kevin wasn’t just “a lot” like me, as Dad had told me. Kevin could be my fucking twin. It was like looking in a mirror. I felt like I’d been sucked into some fucked up version of The Parent Trap, but with one of us fucking the hot dad. And it wasn’t me.

“Let me show you to the guest room,” Dad announced, pulling me away from the mirror version of me. “You can wash up for dinner. I’m taking you and Kevin to Joe’s Stone Crab.”

Dinner was nice. I was prepared to hate Kevin, this proxy of me whom Dad was fucking, but I couldn’t dislike him. Kevin turned out to be a really nice guy who was actually a few years older than me. A law student at the University of Miami, Kevin wasn’t just some gold-digging boy toy. And from what I saw at dinner, Kevin worshipped my dad. But I couldn’t shake my jealousy toward him. A lot of gay boys secretly lust after their fathers, their first example of masculinity, and I was no exception. And this new version of my dad was hot as fuck. I wanted his cock more than ever.

“What do you think of this view of the Atlantic?” Dad asked, opening a bottle of wine for the three of us on the balcony of their twelfth-floor condo after we returned from dinner.

“It’s gorgeous,” I replied, accepting the glass of Malbec that Dad passed to me.

“This one is gorgeous,” Dad cooed, passing a glass to Kevin and kissing him wantonly before me. Jesus, could he not see that Kevin and I look exactly the same? Even the waiter at dinner asked if Kevin was my twin brother.

“Your old man needs to hit the sack,” Dad yawned a bit later after finishing his second glass of wine. “But you two young fellows should stay out here and chat. I want the two most important guys in my life to get to know each other better.”

“When are you gonna tell your dad?” Kevin asked as soon as Dad had left us.

“Tell him what?” I asked, confused.

“That you’re gay,” Kevin clarified. “Don’t deny it, Martin,” he laughed putting up his hand as I began to protest. “I saw the way you were looking at our waiter tonight.” It was true. The waiter had been hot as fuck. “You’re also too hot to be straight,” he joked.

Kevin retrieved another bottle of wine for us, and then I spent the next hour telling him everything about my first year of college. The guy in my dorm who took my virginity. The cruisy bathroom in the basement of the science library where I sucked scores of cock through a gloryhole. The frat parties where I had taken a line of cocks in the house basement. The married professor who fucked me during his office hours. I spared no detail.

“Damn, Martin,” Kevin exclaimed upon hearing it all, but never judging me. “I think your Dad deserves to know your truth . . . but maybe not all of it,” he laughed. I agreed, feeling a sense of camaraderie after baring my soul to Kevin. Though he was fucking my father, he was beginning to feel like the brother I never had, a twin brother to be exact. And my newfound brother was falling asleep in his chair after a fifth glass of wine.

As my doppelgänger Kevin began to snore, lulled by the cool night breeze off the ocean, a twisted plan took shape inside my mind. Could Dad tell the difference between Kevin and me in the dark of night? There was only one way to find out. Leaving Kevin asleep in his balcony chair, I made my way back inside the condo, discovering my dad asleep in bed. A flimsy sheet barely covered his naked body. The room was dark, save for a sliver of moonlight reflecting off the ocean. Pulling off my clothes, I climbed into bed with Dad.

“Mmm. You bad boy,” Dad moaned, awakening to the touch of my hand to his hairy chest, my mouth finding his cock under the sheet. His hands found my head, guiding me to the rhythm he liked, assuming me to be Kevin. “Jesus, that feels good. Christ, you’re hungry for it,” he exclaimed as I bobbed up and down on his thick, eight-incher, his big balls mashing against my chin. But I wasn’t taking this risk to suck a load out of my dad. No. I wanted his cock up my ass, even if he thought I was Kevin.

“Yeah, take this big cock,” Dad moaned as I straddled him, pushing down on him, reveling in the feeling of having my own father’s dick inside me. “You like this cock up your ass?”

“Mmm, hmm,” I affirmed, not wanting to speak further and risk giving up my identity.

“You want my cum?” asked Dad, his hands on my hips, guiding me up and down on his big dick. I made no sound as I leaned forward, bracing myself on his hairy pecs. “Shit, I’m gonna bust,” Dad roared urgently. Instantly, I felt his cock swelling and pulsing, his load warming me from within. “Damn,” Dad exclaimed as I collapsed upon him, his balls fully emptied inside me. Releasing his cock from my wrecked hole, I started to climb off the bed, fearful that Dad would finally realize that I was not Kevin.

“Don’t go. Stay with me,” Dad ordered, pulling me into his arms, my head resting on his hairy chest as I listened to his breathing for several moments. “I’ve wanted that for a long time, Martin,” Dad finally spoke. Fuck. I was busted.

“Wait . . . How did you know?” I stammered, my eyes searching for his in the dark.

“I’ll admit it’s a bit hard to tell you two apart, especially in the dark,” Dad confessed with a laugh. “But I knew you weren’t Kevin when you sat on my cock. Kevin never bottoms. He’s strictly a top.”

“Wait . . . So that means you bottom for Kevin?” I asked, completely surprised that my macho-as-fuck father likes it up the ass.

“That’s right,” Kevin’s voice answered from the darkened doorway. “Your dad loves taking my big cock up his ass.” How long had he been there? As Kevin came toward us, I realized he had stripped naked. Silhouetted in the moonlight was a huge ten-inch cock that swung between his legs. Kevin was clearly different from me in one significant way —several inches to be exact.

“You’re gonna love Kevin’s big dick,” Dad whispered in my ear, cradling me in his arms as Kevin parted my legs and pushed his cock into my used, cummy hole.