Even the Score (St. Patrick's Day) | A NEW MAN | Tape 1

I didn’t know what it would be like coming back home, much less what it would be like living with Dad again. He hadn’t exactly grown up poor, but he came up without any particular advantages. He managed to get into Yale with excellent grades and a football scholarship. He worked his ass off and made the most of it. He graduated with an MBA and he has always been proud of that degree and he should be.

My whole life he reminded me that when I got to Yale, I would be a legacy. Not only that, I would have the name and money to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with anybody there, and not struggle for respect the way he did. Then I screwed up and was basically forced to enlist in the Army.

When I told him that I was getting out of military life he rented me a basic apartment. Something that I could pay the rent on. With my record, going to Yale is probably off the table. I guess I should be glad he hasn’t disowned me all together but at least for now, I’ve got to make my own way.

The last thing I expected to see when I stepped into my living room was that little truck on the window sill. It’s nothing much; kind of lame for a toy, really; a little truck cut out of a block of wood. It was the first toy he bought me, though, when I was barely two years old. He said he got it because it reminded him of a truck he had when he was kid. Later, he got me almost anything I asked for, but even when I outgrew all of it, I kept the truck. It was on a shelf in my room along with my little league trophies, souvenirs from vacations, that kind of stuff.

He’s a high powered business executive, the major shareholder and CEO of a business conglomerate. I don’t even know all of the different things that they have a stake in. Most kids with fathers like him get sent off to boarding school. Not me. He hired a nanny to take care of me, wherever he traveled to, we went with him. I had more stamps in my passport by the time I was eight years old than most people have in a lifetime but he made sure I had a childhood, too.

When I was seven or eight, he started getting me comic books. I read about Batman and I decided that Dad must be a superhero because he was so big and strong and lived in a big house. That’s really why he would say, “I’d always rather be with my boy but there are lots of people depending on me,” when he had to go off, even if he didn’t want to. He said he wasn’t really a superhero, but I thought that’s exactly what a superhero would say.

People talk about the challenges for kids in single-parent families, and lives of “poor little rich kids'' who have everything that money can buy, except love. My daddy was everything that I needed and I never missed having a mother. At least it was perfect until I hit puberty and had my “sexual awakening,” as they call it. I realized that I didn’t care about girls at all. Being gay would not have been a big deal. It wouldn’t have been great but I could have dealt with it. There were several gay guys in my scout troop. The problem was that I wasn’t heterosexual or homosexual; I guess I was daddysexual. I wanted my father to fuck me.

I couldn’t talk to anybody about it. I went back and forth between trying not to think about it at all, and trying to think up excuses to go in the bathroom when my dad was in the shower. I couldn’t distract myself with other guys because I didn’t want to get with the queer boys my age that I knew. When you are a teen boy, the one thing you absolutely can’t do is just not think about sex, and for me, sex was all about my dad. I told him that I wanted to go to a real high school and be an ordinary teenager, but it was really so that I wouldn’t have to be around him all of the time. I could tell that he was a little bit hurt but it was a convincing argument and he agreed.

My dad wouldn’t let me have an Instagram account until I turned sixteen. On my birthday, I signed up and started following every beefy hunk I could find, hoping that I could find men to jerk off to besides my dad. Things just got worse. They say the algorithm knows more about what you want than you do. Well, one day I logged on and it said, “You might like to follow @FurryFuckinBear.” I thought, “Hell yeah! I probably would!” I clicked the icon and it was my dad! FurryFuckinBear was my fucking dad!

He had dozens of pics showing off his bare ass in the shower, showing off his package in a bulging jockstrap, washing his truck in a wet t-shirt, and even pictures of his hard cock with a wet washcloth draped over it. Worse for me, though, were pics of him with other men. They weren’t having sex but there were pics of them lying around in bed together, obviously naked under their sheets or blankets. I was so jealous and so angry because I always thought my dad was straight and I had spent so much time feeling so guilty and afraid of what he might think.

I guess it was selfish of me, but I never actually thought about why he wasn’t dating anybody. But it wasn’t much different than never thinking about why I never thought about anybody, either, until I started thinking about him. I hated those men who got to be with him, but I hated myself for being jealous. What right did I have to resent the fact that my dad had friends and a sex life? I was his son. I had no right to expect anything from him… not anything like that, anyway. But I wanted him. And I wanted him to want me.

I started acting out. I fell in with a bad crowd, and started doing stupid shit. The only thing I can say for myself was that I’m smart and basically liked school so I kept a B- average even though I was barely even trying. Eventually, things went too far. I ended up in Juvenile Court. The judge said that he should send me to jury for at least six months but there were people, like my dad, swearing that I was good kid, and my grades were decent, so he said he was going to put me on probation for two months until I graduated high school and the day after graduation I was going into the Army where he hoped that I would get my act together before I threw my life away.

My dad was crushed. He didn’t lecture me or cuss me out. I wished he had. He just looked at me with dead eyes, shrugged his shoulders and said, “Well, you’re a man now and you’ve made your choices.” We went home and got along, even though things were not the same. The night before I reported for duty, I told my dad that I was gay. He revealed that he was, too, and I didn’t tell him that I already knew.

I never wanted to be in the Army and I left as soon as I could get out, but it wasn’t a bad thing for me, overall. It’s not easy being gay in the Army these days but at least it’s not illegal and for the most part harassment isn’t allowed. I learned self-control, and they taught me that if you want other men to respect you, you have to start by respecting yourself, which was not an easy lesson for me to learn. I missed my dad terribly but I guess it wasn’t a bad thing to not have him right there in front of me all of the time.

I was back home now, though. It was a long bus ride and I was tired and needed a shower. The hot water felt good and the smell of the body wash that dad likes reminded me that I was home. My cock was rock-hard but I didn’t really feel like beating off. I was just thinking about facing my dad when I finally got to see him.

I got out of the shower, dried off, and was headed over to my bed in the corner when I looked up and saw my stark naked dad standing there staring at me and my cock at full mast. I yelped and dived back into the bathroom for a towel. After I got dressed, I found him sitting on the sofa watching TV and I sat down beside him. I guess it was obvious that I was uncomfortable and he assumed it was because of what just happened.

He apologized. When I didn’t hear the bell, he tried the doorknob and it was unlocked. He tried to make me feel better by reminding me of how many times I saw him naked when I was younger. He jokingly said he hoped his seeing him au naturel hadn’t been too traumatic. I don’t know what came over me. I said, “No, it wasn’t. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.”

He stood up, stepped in front of me, and pulled his zipper down. His big, hard cock fell out in front of my face. I guess I never imagined that it would be that big, but it’s really no bigger than the rest of him.

He sat back down, and I wrapped my hand around it. It felt hard and soft and warm. He asked me if I wanted to kiss it and I leaned forward in a daze. He smelled like sweat and musk with a faint hint of that body wash. I took it in my mouth and started to suck. I finally tasted my dad, finally did what I had wanted to do for so long. He tasted so good! I just wanted to keep him in my mouth forever. I wanted to take him all the way down my throat and have him cum in my stomach. I tried, and choked, and tried again. He told me to take my pants off, so I did. I went back to sucking on him like a starving man while he took my cock in his big meaty hand and started jacking me off.

I was on my knees on the sofa. I sucked and whimpered, almost in tears over the experience of finally being with my dad in the way I had longed for for many years. I barely even noticed his hand slipping down my back to stroke my hole. I sat up, and he leaned back and asked me to sit on his cock. I didn’t hesitate for a second. I just straddled his lap and let it slide all the way in. It was the biggest dick I’ve ever taken, but it didn’t hurt. My body knew what it wanted and my hole just opened up.

I started riding it hard. My dad’s massive cock was plowing in and out of my hole and images from the past were flashing through my mind… my daddy swinging me high in the air before he plopped me down on the passenger seat of his truck when I was too little to climb in by myself, his muscles bulging under his wet t-shirt after I sprayed him with the garden hose, wrestling on the living room floor, lying on his broad chest, out of breath, after he let me win. I remembered jacking off in the shower, trying not to think of him but not able to think about anything else. I’d make up excuses to go in the bathroom, hoping to see him naked in the shower, and the days in bootcamp when I had nothing left to give, but thought “I’ve got to make my dad proud of me again” and got it done. So many times when men fucked me I closed my eyes and started thinking of him.

Now it was him.

At long last, it was his hot, hard, wonderful cock pounding my hole… over and over. It was the sound of his moaning and panting mixing with my own. I bucked up and down, taking his dick to the balls and back. I just wanted to be the best piece of ass he ever fucked. I wanted him to cum harder in me than he ever had in his life.

Then I heard a loud grunt and felt his warm, wet, sticky cum filling me up. His fat superhero cock planted his seed as deep into my guts as he could reach. I fell back, breathless, against his chest as he wrapped me up in his big, strong, FurryFuckinBear arms and squeezed me so tight that I knew my daddy didn’t want to ever let me go again.