PKP

Father finds fulfillment 2

Edgar Chartres

Things have been pretty quiet round our house since my Dad, Simon Horniman, discovered he liked being balled by his business partner, Alex. Not that my Father has found a conscience, or anything. More like he and Alex suddenly remembered that I was in the house, too, and that they had better make themselves a bit more circumspect if there was any hope that I wouldn't discover my Dad's new found predilection for having a mammoth cock jammed up his ass.

Some hope. I'd already beaten my dick raw watching them go to it in Dad's bedroom. It took me quite a while – and a bit of scrubbing – to get the cum stains off the back of Dad's dressing room door, where I'd been crouching, perving on them through the keyhole.

When they'd finished buggering each other in their first, furious encounter, I had carefully crawled back up the hallway from Dad's dressing room, out through my own bedroom window, onto the roof of our veranda and down to ground level. When these two guys finally reappeared downstairs – both looking a bit flushed and guilty, if you ask me – I was innocently sitting at the kitchen table, reading a Superman comic book. I thought it was appropriate.

"Oh, hi Dad," says I. "I didn't hear you come in. Hi Alex."

"Hello son," says Dad.

"Yeah . . . hello Michael," says Alex. "What are you reading?"

"Superman," I tell him. Then – inspiration. "Its all about Superman discovers he's had this secret compulsion all his life to, er . . . ah, to do something really, really evil. Its something he's terrified that people are going to find out about, you know?"

Alex was almost going purple, not knowing whether to laugh or cry or what. Dad, however, was cool as a cucumber.

"Sounds like fun," he said, and turned round, walking out of the kitchen into the living room. He and Alex stayed in there for quite a while, having a long, meaningful conversation in very low voices. I can guarantee they weren't talking about kitchen installations.

From that day, Dad started spending a lot more time away from home. I assumed he was at Alex' house, but I never asked. Sometimes, you can get just a bit too clever for your own good.

It went on for about four weeks and, to tell the truth, I was getting a bit upset about being left alone so much. I figured the only thing to do was to talk to Dad about how I felt.

When he got home about 11 o'clock one night I was waiting for him.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Dad?" I asked.

"Sure son – if it can't wait for the morning."

"I'd rather talk now, if that's okay."

"Fine," says Dad. "What's the problem?"

"Dad, I'm getting really lonely since you started going out a lot," I said quietly. Dad looked quite surprised, I think. It clearly hadn't occurred to him that I'd miss him while he was out being fucked stupid by his new boyfriend. "I know its none of my business and I know it's really good for you to find new interests since Mom died, but I can't help it – I really feel lonely without you being here so much."

"Mikey?" queries Dad. "I didn't realise you liked being round me so much."

"I didn't know either, Dad," I said. "Not until you weren't here to be round any more."

"Ah, you poor kid," Dad says to me and come across to put his arms round my shoulders. "You should have said."

"Well, I'm saying now," I replied. "Dad, I don't expect you to hang round the house like a hermit, but I wondered if, maybe, we couldn't spend just a little more time together. Play some ball or go to the movies or you help me with homework. Something."