The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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"Dad's Dilemma" 05 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Time flew and soon I was at home, in my bedroom, my books on my desk, ready to tackle homework. Something was different about me. At first I chocked it up to being a day older, but then I thought about yesterday. As I changed clothes, got stripped down to my briefs, I really thought about maturity. I smiled, thinking about the size of my cock. How often had I heard, in gym class, the words of some guy saying, `he's really hung'! I never knew whom a guy was talking about, but I did do private investigations. Often it was in the gym shower. As with Adam, yesterday in the shower, I thought about how to detail a guy's looks. I decided to do something I've done a million times over... I went to my closet, opened the door and stared at the long mirror. I became kind of kooky, too. Some guys might call it kinky, as I put my thumbs under the elastic of my briefs and slowly pushed downwards. There was one Italian kid in gym class, same age as me and the other guys, but endowed hirsuitely. I say that because, compared to all the other guys, he already had dark pubes and a trail running right up to his navel. It ran a little past, plus he had moderately hairy armpits.
I peeled my briefs down lower, maybe hopefully to view what I could see of Armando Valdiveso, but no such luck. The hair coming in around my cock was sparse and so blonde-colored it was like seeing nothing. Even at the base of my teen cock, there wasn't anything usual to report. One good thing is, as I stared at myself in the mirror, I tended to make my cock throb, with thoughts of Armando and then general thoughts of how my own cock appeared to be just as built'. So, I came to the conclusion that my tool, (what I heard a guy refer to another's as), wasn't anything too small' on the `jock scale'!
"Having fun?"
"What do you want?" I slammed the closet door shut, hiking my briefs up.
"Maybe you would like to compare that thing to some real meat?"
It was tempting. There, stood my brother, Steve, with a towel around his waist.
"How come you're out of work so early? Coming back from the Pines Motel, from meeting your boyfriend?" I teased my brother.
"C'mon, you know I don't swing that way, bro!"
As he left, he let the towel swing loose. Even though he was my brother, five years older, and straight, I slighted him on the maturity scale. Sometimes he did stoopid stuff like flaunting his body or `body parts' in front of me.
I returned my greetings, "Didja know your towel's falling off, faggot-bro?"
He just laughed his ass off, saying, "One faggot to another!"
Only, I knew he was joking. There couldn't be anybody straighter in this family than Steve. However, even though straight, sometimes I've fantasized about him. To me, he wasn't just a `brother' at times. I'd lay in bed at night, my hand on my cock and think of him coming home from his job at Jacoby Construction. He'd walk in the jon, me standing there, invisible. I'd watch him go through all the motions. Standing there, at six feet, one inch tall, he would slowly unbutton his grimy shirt. My hand would get more motion, as he peeled back his sweaty shirt, revealing his dark, hairy chest. It ran from east to west, so thick in certain places, it almost hid his rosy-red nips. Then it would trickle down as it left his mid-chest, than quick as a dart, shoot down to his waste in a neat line. The rest of the view was awesome. He was twice as big as me, from his cock, on down. So real was all of this, I could swear I smelled his musky man scent, mixed with his construction grime!
Now I really had to come to grips. In an hour and fifteen minutes mom would be calling up the stairs, alerting me to supper. Closing the jon door, pressing the little latch my dad affixed years ago, I lay down on my bed, my teen balls already anchoring my briefs. While my mind was on my brother, I let it set there, imagining him in the shower. It took all of a few minutes to stoke off, but the cum spurting out was as if I was storing up for a year!
"Jaaaaake! Dinner!"
Wow! I must've been dozing for over an hour! When I went for my briefs, the sticky residue told how long it's been `drying'! A washcloth quickly cleansed my pubes.
"I hope it was worth it!"
My dopey brother again!
I just said, "Oh it was!"
If he only knew `how' I got to the state of releasing my inner tension.
Dinner wasn't anything special, except from my point of view. I felt really weird inside, as the `rents went about with their usual banter.
"How was your day today?" My dad asked mom.
In a way, I felt like saying something. Only thing, I loved both my parents. Why did that have to get in the way of anything. In a way, I felt I didn't owe' either of the rents an explanation to what was going on behind their backs. As for dad, it was his business what he did during the day, taking time out from his work to relieve his pent up mansex. God only knows what mom did in her free time, as a housewife. Dad already pointed out one incident. How did any of us know the wiser? Then again, dad had more or less already said the writing was on the wall. Should I act surprised if one of them came out with the prospects of wanting a divorce? In a way, as a side-line to this charade, I wanted to blurt out what I knew. I wanted to ask when the divorce was, have everything out on the table. Then again my mind traced back again to the thoughts of loving both my parents. I've known from others in my class at school. The kids become custody of one parent and see the other one occasionally. No way could I ever make a choice. Maybe I'd choose to live with the grandparents, upstate. Suddenly I felt a toe, kicking me under the table. It was Steve's foot. "Huh?"
"Mom asked you how school was going?" Steve retold the question.
"Good," I answered, with the least bit of interest. "I got a B on my science test."
I should have thanked Steve, but instead, let the conversation pass on to a new subject... Steve's car.
"What do you think, dad? Sell the old one and trade up to something more modern?"
"I thought you were saving your extra cash for college?"
Bringing up Steve's car, triggered something deep inside my brain. While the rents and Steve talked college', my mind floated towards the other guy' in dad's life. I remember Adam's last thoughts to me, find out who this guy is'. However, I hadn't had the opportunity to discuss it with dad. Maybe it was none of my business. For sure, I was keeping it in my confidence, especially where mom was concerned. For sure, I didn't want her to overhear anything being said.
"Can I be excused?"
"If you're finished," Dad said.
I scooted out from under the table, took my napkin from my lap, folded it nicely and left it beside the plate. I know I didn't need an excuse, but offered the need to study for an English test. Going to my room, I thought of how different life was now. Dad's gay, mom could be a lesbian. Where did all this leave Steve and I? I knew Steve would survive, going back to college, but what about me? I still had two years of high school to be confronted with. If mom and dad split up, would I be living here in this house or someplace else? Where would I be attending high school? Life was presenting itself and here was I, in the thick of it.
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Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.