When I Came Back, My Father Wasn’t Alone in the Living Room
It was Saturday, the eve of a Monday holiday. My mother and my Aunt Adela took advantage of it to head out to Grandfather’s farm, while Tobías, my younger brother, went off on a trip with some friends. We’d played a match that same morning, so when they left, my father and I were alone in the apartment.
That night he made hamburgers on the little grill on the balcony. We drank cold beer while an old record he cherished played in the background. It was sticky, heavy heat, the kind that makes it impossible to stay dressed. My father was in shorts, shirtless, and I had escaped to the shower as soon as we finished dinner.
Before the water, I shaved everything. Chest, armpits, groin, and the area around my ass too. I liked feeling smooth, exposed. I came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped under my chest, the way women usually wear it, and another smaller one wrapped around my head. I walked down the hallway with an exaggerated gesture when I saw him on the sofa.
—You look very sexy like that, huh? —he said, laughing, not even trying to hide the way he looked at me.
—I’m rehearsing, Daddy —I answered, and gave him a little runway walk to my room.
Once inside, I dried off and put on only a tight white boxer brief, the kind that outlines everything. I wanted to provoke him. We’d been playing with this for a while, but always with liquor and poppers involved. This time I wanted to see how far he’d go sober, or at least lucid. I wanted to know if it was real desire or just the effect of the booze.
When I came out, his eyes stuck to me. He didn’t pretend otherwise. He slowly looked my body over, pausing at the bulge in my boxer briefs, and then I knew the night had already been decided.
—Want to watch a movie? —he suggested, his voice half-shot.
—Sure, but I’m skipping the drinks tonight. Let’s keep it clean —I said, because I wanted everything clear.
—All right, love. I’ll pick the first one.
—Whatever you want, Dad.
We settled onto my bed against the wall. He grabbed the remote and searched Netflix. He chose a story he clearly knew by heart, I could tell: a mobster who kidnaps a woman and gives her a year to fall in love with him. I usually watch more football than screens, so I didn’t have much faith in it. But ten minutes in, I understood his move. The plot was an excuse: what he was waiting for were the erotic scenes.
And did they come. The lead actress, a knockout. The guy, a macho type with an actor’s look. One scene in the shower, another on a yacht, another where he ties her up to force her to watch while he fucks someone else. The tension kept rising. And with it, my cock, under the boxer briefs, pressing against the fabric until it was fully outlined.
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He had the same situation under his shorts. His breathing had changed, slower, louder. Then, suddenly, he stretched out, lowered his body, and rested his head on my right thigh, as if by accident, never taking his eyes off the TV. He started stroking my leg, first down to the knee, then a little higher.
I answered by running my fingers through his hair, over the nape of his neck, along his freshly shaved jaw. The room was dark, lit by the bluish glow from the film. His thumb brushed my boxer briefs right where my cock was pushing outward, and I arched without thinking.
This time I wanted to be the one in charge. I slid my hand in from the side of my boxer briefs, pulled out my already hard cock, and brought it to his mouth. He didn’t hesitate for a second. He opened and swallowed it whole. He turned onto his stomach, finished pulling it free from the side of the fabric, and started devouring it with a hunger I had never seen in him before.
—Take them off —I told him, tugging at the waistband.
He pulled my boxer briefs off and let them fall to the floor. I was naked under the flickering screen. He came up to my face and we kissed for a long time, with tongue and teeth and everything we keep quiet during the day. Then he went back down, bit my nipples, played with them until they stood as hard as the tip of my cock. Then he went lower again. He took me in all the way, until I could feel him hit the back of his throat. He pulled off to breathe and then drove down on me again.
In the movie, the guy was pulling the woman out of the sea while she was drowning. Later, she was sucking his dick while sitting on the bed of a yacht. The coincidence made me laugh and get hot at the same time.
My father kept going down. He nibbled my toes, the whole sole of my foot. Then he climbed up my calves, my thighs, and went between my legs. He took my balls into his mouth, sucked them slowly, and then immediately went lower. He got desperate. He grabbed me behind the knees, lifted my hips, shoved a thick pillow underneath, and with my legs in the air, threw himself onto my ass.
He ate it with his tongue, with his lips, with his teeth. He pushed his tongue in as far as he could, worked inside, came out, went back in. He was frantic, as if he’d been waiting for months. I moaned and held his head, not wanting him to ever stop.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I invited him to lie down the other way around. A perfect sixty-nine. I sucked his cock while he sucked mine. Then we rolled a little and ended up each biting the other’s ass, in a position we’d never tried before.
My cock was revived already, hard again, and seeing him moaning beneath me I knew what had to happen. I knelt between his legs, slipped my arms under his knees, and aimed my cock at his ass. I pushed in slowly, and he himself asked me to take it all the way in, to give it to him hard.
So I did. Every thrust was pleasure and desire and a little rage: rage because the man who gave me life was enjoying being fucked in the ass. Then I put him on his side, in a fetal position, lifted his left leg, and pumped him nonstop. He warned me he was about to come and I sped up. I came inside him at the same time he emptied himself onto his own belly, with a long moan.
We turned off the TV. We fell asleep like that, naked, in silence, until the next day.
***
When we woke up, he had already gone to play at the little soccer field they call La Pradera. It’s a neighborhood pitch where they put together long games, with lots of players rotating in and out, and the beer-soaked third half is the best part of Sunday. I had breakfast alone and did nothing at all until he came back. We greeted each other as if nothing had happened. Neither of us brought it up.
—I’m going to the pool to relax for a bit —he said from the kitchen.
—I’ll go with you. I don’t have plans either.
We went down to the complex pool and ran into Bruno and Esteban, two neighbors from the next building over. We talked about the party the previous Saturday, about women, about football. The usual. At some point they challenged us to a five o’clock futsal match on the small court. I agreed for both of us. I called Diego and black Andrés to round out our four-man team.
When we got to the court, Bruno and Esteban had brought a guest. A guy around twenty, brown skin, hair cut real close, shirtless. He had a defined chest, strong arms, but thin legs and almost no ass. They called him the Feline. He was from outside the complex, someone they’d invited just for the match.
He played well, cool-headed. He smelled like expensive cologne mixed with sweat, a combination that stirred something inside me. I took advantage of a dumb collision in the middle of a play to brush his cock with the back of my hand. It was shameless. For a second he looked at me with a crooked smile I couldn’t quite read.
We won the game. My father, euphoric, invited the whole group up to the apartment for beer and something to eat. We went up. The Feline, as I learned up there, lived far away. The others settled in, opened cans, and before long they moved on to rum. I showered quickly and changed. When I came back to the living room, my father and the Feline already had a kind of trust between them, the kind you could see in how they laughed and how their shoulders brushed when they talked.
Andrés said he was leaving. I offered to take him on the motorcycle.
—Sure, let’s go —he said, and we said our goodbyes.
At Andrés’s place, his mother, his sister, and a younger cousin were all asleep in their rooms. He stripped in front of me without a hint of shame, showing off that thick ass and that big cock I’d always envied, and went into the bathroom. I was left in the living room with the cousin, a guy around nineteen who looked like he hadn’t slept. He looked at me. He touched my bulge. He pulled out his own, already half-hard. We didn’t have time, but I also didn’t want to act holier than thou. I pulled down his shorts, sucked him for a while, gave him a quick saliva-wet handjob, and he tried to return the favor, but the shower upstairs shut off. So we left it there. Andrés came down dressed and nobody noticed anything.
We went with Andrés to a nearby bar, one of those places that serves shaved ice drinks with a shot of liquor that hits you later. We spent the night drinking and joking around. Later a friend of his showed up and joined the group. Around that time my father texted me.
—Where are you? Taking a while? Take your time if you want, son, I’m here at home.
The message surprised me. That kind of attitude was more like my mother’s. My father usually waited for me with a long face if I stayed out too late. Something was up. I waited for the bar to close and headed back, my head heavy from the shaved ice drinks.
Before I even stepped into the apartment, I heard music from the hallway. Guaracha at full blast, something unusual for him. I assumed the party was still going on inside, that Bruno, Esteban, and the Feline would be stretched out on the sofa. I slipped the key in slowly. Pushed the door open.
And then I couldn’t believe what I saw.
The Feline was standing there with his back to the door, completely naked. He had a joint between his fingers and a glass in the other hand. Kneeling in front of him, without knowing I’d come in, was my father. He was sucking him with devotion, holding those few butt cheeks he had, moving with a hunger I hadn’t even seen the night before with me.
I felt jealous. I felt disappointed. I felt envious. And I also felt an immediate, brutal arousal that drove my cock against my jeans.
My father looked up and saw me. He didn’t stop. On the contrary: he spread the Feline’s ass cheeks apart and showed me that tight hole, almost like an invitation. I walked over slowly, not knowing what I was going to do or how the guest would react. But I got to them, stood behind the Feline, hugged him, and ran my hands over his hard chest, over his outlined nipples.
—Whoa, bro, what’s going on? —he blurted out, startled.
—Relax, daddy, anything goes here. Chill out and enjoy it —I whispered in his ear.
—Ahh, man, but he’s your father and you’re his son.
—Even better. No problem, king.
—All right, but I already told him I don’t like being fucked in the ass. I’ll destroy you all, but with me, nothing.
—Easy, we do whatever you want.
My father still hadn’t let go of his cock. I bent down and tried to lick his ass, but he shifted his hip away. I respected it. I climbed up, knelt beside my father, and started sharing that treat with him. It was thick, long, heavy. The two of us gave it a blowjob with two mouths, taking turns on the head and the shaft. We did it so well that at one point he had to make us stop. If we kept going, he was going to come too soon.
He took me to the sofa. Sat me down. Put my father on all fours in front of me, his hand on the back of my father’s neck, pushing his head down so he’d keep sucking me off. My old man was loving it: licking his lips, playing with his tongue on my glans, looking up at me from below with bright eyes. Meanwhile, the Feline spit on his hand and slicked my father’s ass with saliva. He aimed his cock, pushed his hips forward, and gradually fucked him until he was all the way in.
The rhythm started to pick up. My father moaned around my cock, never losing focus. My gaze met the Feline’s. He smiled, still holding the joint in his other hand. We’d been at it a good while when my father came all over the floor, before the other one was finished. He came out of there sweating, got to his feet, and staggered into the bathroom.
—Come here, I’m gonna blow that thick ass of yours apart —the Feline said to me, his eyes glassy.
He made me kneel on the sofa, holding on to the backrest. He spit on his fingers, ran them over my ass several times, and then went in with his cock. When he pushed, the pain split me in two. He was big, too big. Those who say a man who takes it a lot ends up like that are right. I endured it. He changed positions, lay me on my back on the sofa, lifted my legs. I endured again. My father came back from the bathroom, jumped into the scene, and started sucking me off while the other one split me open from the other side.
I felt the heat of the semen filling my ass just as I filled my father’s mouth. The three of us stayed still for a moment, still connected, panting.
—Fuck, what a killer fuck. What a pair of gorgeous sluts —said the Feline, letting out a rough laugh.
—You’re pretty hot too, and you fuck like a dream —I answered, breathless.
My father, exhausted, said goodbye with a kiss on the forehead and went off to his room to sleep. The Feline and I stayed in the living room, smoking and drinking, talking bullshit until the sky turned gray. Before he left, we exchanged WhatsApp numbers.
—We’ll talk later, Mateo.
—Anytime you want, king.
On the Monday holiday we slept in late. My father and I didn’t mention it. Tobías arrived first, then my mother. Tobías came with a story that, according to him, was going to get me hotter than hell, and by the look on his face he wasn’t lying. But that one, that one I’ll tell later.