That afternoon, dad went out as he often did at the weekend, and I stayed home to read. I needed time to myself to reflect, at least I really wasn’t in the mood to see anyone.
The next day was the same routine; Dad and I worked out together and once again, he was inhabitually shirtless. I tried not to pass any remarks but as we exercised and I paced around the small space to recover between sets, my eyes landed again and again on the prominent bulge in his crotch. I found myself wanting to say out loud what we both knew was true. “I sucked your dick!” and “I swallowed your cum!” Where was this urge coming from – and for my own father? There was something wrong with me. I was sure he sensed how conflicted and strange I was acting. Of course, in the end I said nothing and finished the workout mostly in silence, only his comments on my technique breaking the tension in the air for a few short seconds at a time.
By Monday, we were back into our regular routine with my anonymous blowjobs an almost distant memory. By Tuesday I expected to never speak of the topic again. I thought perhaps it would be something we might work through in 10 years time, when I had moved out or brought home my first boyfriend, or even if he finally found a girlfriend. That evening we sat down to dinner as usual, I asked him about his day and he did the same. Neither of us had anything of much interest to report, the tension between us was still not totally gone but I sensed things were getting better. That is, until he haplessly threw in a grenade.
‘Are you going to swim practice tomorrow?’ he asked.
It seemed like such an innocuous question and yet I immediately read between the lines. What was he asking me exactly though? He couldn’t be asking me if I would be at the glory hole – could he?
‘Of course, I already got my stuff ready,’ I shot back after a moment, nodding towards my swim bag in the corner of the room that was all packed for the following day.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you going to those toilets – you hear me?’
My eyes must have been popping out of my head and I could feel my face glowing bright red. I couldn’t even bring myself to open my mouth.
‘Mmm hmm,’ I mumbled, nodding my head in agreement. I stood and began clearing the table. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole, but this was all I could do to get myself out of this situation as quickly as possible.
‘And…how many times have you done that?’ he asked expressionless, looking up at me from the table.
‘Only with you!’ I blurted out frantically, feeling like I was confessing something terrible to him. ‘That was the first time. The only times I did it was with you…but I didn’t know…’
I didn’t know what else to say, I couldn’t justify it. I didn’t want to justify it. It was just an urge I had that needed scratching. In a way I understood why he was there too; the same overpowering desire that sometimes just needs to be satisfied. He didn’t say anything to this, but he looked relieved and I felt relieved too. I wanted him to know that I hadn’t done that with any old stranger – even if that might have been my intention. I carried on clearing the table, feeling happier now that the air was cleared a bit between us. I finished up and pushed the chair under the table to go up stairs to do my school work. But as I turned to leave the room he asked me something else that took me aback.
‘Would you want to do that for me again?’ he asked clearly and pointedly, so that there was no way I could duck, ignore or even misinterpret the question.
I froze on the spot. I know what I wanted to answer. His magnificent cock had been on my mind constantly for the past month – ever since the afternoon I first laid eyes on it in the glory hole. The weight of it in my hands and the aroma on my tongue, I would have loved to feel and taste it one more time. But this was my father. Could I really tell him I wanted to suck his cock. I took a deep breath and looked over at him, trying to suppress my nerves.
‘Yes I would,’ I said softly but firmly, immediately regretting the words as they left my lips. Neither of us spoke for a moment.
‘Go on – you’ve got homework to finish,’ he finally said, leaving me even more at a loss and devastated with my confession. I closed my eyes tightly and walked out past him, running up the stairs to my room.
‘WHY OH WHY did I just admit that?’ I scolded myself, burying my head in my pillow.
****
That night I slept terribly, and the next morning when I got up dad was still at home; this was pretty unusual but not unheard of. He explained that he took the day off to run some errands – given the fact we were still walking on eggshells around one another, I decided it was best not to quiz him on it. In class I was agitated and still unable to concentrate; the very last thing I wanted to do was go to swim practice, but I knew I had no other choice. I certainly couldn’t rock up home early and I wouldn’t be going anywhere near the park any more – I didn’t even want to think about what would happen if I bumped into dad there on a day I was supposed to be at practice. So I went to practice and I was surprised to find that it helped take my mind off the past few days. I walked home slowly, feeling like I had almost put myself back in the same situation of a few days ago; dreading seeing dad again, not knowing how he might react.
Finally when I got back, dinner was ready and we ate together, chatting only to discuss the day’s events. Maybe things would be fine, despite what I had said the previous evening. As I got up to clear the table, dad changed the subject abruptly.
‘I make something for you today,’ he said, looking at me rather calmly. ‘…in the closet. In case you want to use it…’ he went on mysteriously. I wasn’t really sure I understood what he was talking about and for some reason I sensed I shouldn’t ask.
‘…well if you want to use it. It’s up to you…or not…whatever you feel like. Just knock on…’ he said, seeming a little sheepish himself now, ‘just knock’.
Then he stood up from the table and grabbed a beer from the fridge, heading over to plop himself in front of the TV. I carried on clearing up none the wiser. As soon as I finished I went up to my room and – with the curiosity now overwhelming me – I headed straight for the closet in my room. Considering dad was a single parent and worked a pretty menial job, we had plenty of space at home, and one of the things I loved most about our house was that I had a big room, with a large double bed, and my own walk-in closet. It lay between my room and my dad’s room, and it was just about enough of a buffer to cover up his snoring. Just about, but not quite. I swung open the door and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness as I stepped inside. Half-expecting there to be some kind of gift wrapped up in the middle of the closest, I ended up a little disappointed and bewildered. I scanned around and still couldn’t see anything. I put out my arm and walked forward until I felt the opposite wall. Fumbling about, I felt around blindly for the lamp which was stuck somewhere on the wall. As I pushed on it, it illuminated the small room in a warm-yellow glow. I immediately saw what dad was talking about.