I haven’t been the best Dad. I’ll admit that. Not a shitty dad either, though. Just a well meaning man who really does love his sons more than anything in the world, in spite of having his priorities really screwed up. I’m a lawyer, and a very successful one now, but that didn’t come without a cost. I always meant to marry my wife, and we planned on having kids. It’s just we planned on that happening several years later than it did.
I had barely been promoted from law clerk to Associate Attorney. That was a huge break at the firm I was working for and I was busting my ass to hang on to it. The competition to get there was fierce and the other associates would do anything short of kill to move up the next rung in the ladder. Then my fiancee got pregnant with Dylan. I could have pulled back, set my big dreams aside, found a decent job at a less hard driving firm.
I can’t say how much was my own ego, and how much was a genuine desire to do right by my new family. Both things were true, but I convinced myself that it was all about the family that had rapidly expanded a few years later to two wonderful little boys. I was a fool. Instead of looking at them and thinking, I need to slow down and enjoy this,” I just thought, “I’m going to give you guys the best of everything! You deserve the world and your daddy’s going to get it for you, no matter what.”
The years flew by. My boys grew up. My wife always seemed patient and supportive. I would tell people I couldn’t do it without her, not even noticing how much she was getting done without me. Until, she couldn’t anymore. She asked for a divorce. I tried to ask for another chance. It was too late for that. She didn’t ask for more than she deserved and I gave her that and more. The court awarded her custody of Canyon. Dylan, my oldest, was allowed to choose and he chose to live with me. I might be oblivious, but I’m not stupid. Given the choice between living with an over protective mother raising two boys without a father, or a workaholic father too distracted to pay attention, what would any teen boy choose?
I put my foot down, though. I left the rat race. Took a partnership with a firm run by some law school buddies for a salary most people would say is more than comfortable. I told Dylan that he was not too old to have a Manny, Houseman, Security Guard, whatever he wanted to call it. If he was going to be a latch key kid, he was going to have to earn the privilege and prove he could be trusted. He stepped up and did it.
I’ve hated being separated from Canyon. His mother lets me see him as often as he and I want. I’ve tried not to spoil either of my boys, but I also made sure Canyon didn’t lack anything. While Dylan was the ideal son, Canyon never got over the divorce. I don’t blame my wife, but she really didn’t help things. Now she’s sending him to me. I’m not sure how much of it is her thinking it will be better for Canyon and how much of it is her not wanting him underfoot now that she’s met somebody. I don’t care. He’s my boy and I’ll do my best for him.
One thing that we are going to have to deal with, though, is the fact that Dylan and I are very close now. Maybe closer than a father and son should be. It’s just every year he got older he got more handsome. I was trying not to think about him, but it turned out that he was trying not to think about me, too. He was nineteen when he told me he was gay.
Inside it hurt me that he ever had to worry for a second what I would think. At the same time, that’s what young gay guys have to deal with. It’s not like it ever crossed my mind to say, “Oh, Dylan by the way, if you just happen to be gay, I’m fine with that.” I was trying as hard as I could not to think about him having sex at all. When he said he was gay, though, that went out the window. My hot sexy little stud of a son was into guys?
He was on the verge of tears and, as God is my witness, I only pulled him into my arms to reassure him but, damn, it had been years since I gave him a full body hug, and he felt so good in my arms. I hadn’t even noticed how hard my dick was but Dylan did. He reached down and stroked it through my pants. He looked up at me and said, “Dad, you’re hard?” I stepped back. I couldn’t even speak. He stepped forward, looked into my eyes and asked, “For me?” I just stuttered. Then he kissed me. Hard. Deep. My arms were back around him. He was tearing at my clothes.
Dylan is such a good boy for his daddy. Every drop of cum my balls can pump out goes in one end of my hot son or the other and he wouldn’t have it any other way. No orgasm I’ve ever had in my life compares to breeding my boy’s hole, pumping my seed deep into his guts where it belongs. I had promised myself that we should hold off for a few days after Canyon got here. I should sit Canyon down and have a talk with him before he stumbles into a room and catches me and Dylan together.
I was just getting out of the shower, though, when Dylan came in to tell me that Canyon was settled into his room. I could see the hunger in my boy’s eyes looking at me standing there naked. I’m a pretty hot guy. It’s true. I swear, though, nobody thinks I’m half as hot as my son does. How much luckier could I get?! And if my sweet boy needs his daddy’s dick how can I say no to that? We’ll just have to be quiet. Damn! He’s such a good boy. Such a tasty, tight, hungry, good boy!