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Extract
He looked like a rabbit caught in a glare; frightened but unable to move. His sodden
T-shirt was clinging to his body, highlighting the curve of his impressive pecs and the
erect nipples that protruded out. I so wanted to reach out and touch them; to see them and
lick them; chew them till he groaned, unable to take any more. After a few moments looking
at me leering at his chest; he managed to reach out and take the clothes from my hands.
“I’ll change in there,” he said, nodding towards the bathroom.
“Why?” I replied, stunned at my own courage. I would never have been so bold with any
other man. “I’m your son, for God’s sake. No need to be shy.”
He dropped his head and looked away; that debate still raging; then he looked back at me;
his dilemma etched across his face. 
“I need to tell you something, Calum. I need to tell you why I left all those years
ago.”
“What. Because you’re gay: it’s no big deal.”
He gazed at me. I could see the longing; this conflicting attraction that he was
struggling to contain. He wanted to see me as his son, as a little boy that could never be
touched in an inappropriate way. But it was the same for him: I was a biological son,
nothing more. He had not seen me grow up: he had not known me as a boy and loved me as
such: he saw a young man - one he would fuck given the chance; one he would fuck if I
wasn’t his son!
“I... I wanted... I wanted to stay,” he stammered. “I wanted to keep in touch but... she
wouldn’t let me... She found me with a minor. I could have gone to jail... keeping away
was the price I had to pay. I’m so sorry... I’ll go now.”
I walked over to him and touched his cheek; stared into his eyes. 
“Stay,” I pleaded; half little boy lost; half randy young man who was desperate for a
shag. “Don’t leave me again.”
Then he relented and reached out and touched my cheek as well.
“You turned out to be a fine young man,” he whispered. “Any father would be proud to call
you his son.”
“Yeah, I think I turned out all right; despite the lack of cuddles: that’s what I missed
the most: any chance of one now?”
We were both shivering; the wet clothes and our nerves making us both shake. Dad dropped
his head; too afraid to take me in his arms: so I took him instead. He rested his head on
my shoulder as I hugged him. He felt so good; so big and manly; and he was my dad. Why
shouldn’t I hug him? Why shouldn’t I kiss him on the side of his head? If seemed so
right.
Then after about two minutes of just standing there hugging his shivering body; he
reached round and took me in his arms as well; drew me in and held me.
“I’ve wanted that all my life,” I said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Make it up to me now.”
“I’ll try.”
I enjoyed the embrace for a few more minutes then prised myself away a little, leaving my
hands on his hips. I looked at him; that confusion was still there, only now the longing
for both son and young lad was reaching fever pitch. I grasped the bottom of his soaked
T-shirt and attempted to pull it up.
“What are you doing?” he asked, trying to force my hands away.
“Taking off these wet clothes: you’ll catch pneumonia if you don’t change.”
“You know what I am.”
“Yes,” I replied, moving my hand down to his crotch and rubbing it against his rigid hard
dick. “And I know what you want... I want it too.”