The rising sun brought me from a deep sleep to semi-consciousness. I always slept with the blinds or curtains open. The night sky soothed me to sleep and the rising sun charged my senses. My childhood bedroom window faced due east, and it got very bright, very quick. I quickly fell into a rhythm of waking with the sun. Most mornings, Dad was already up and in the kitchen, making coffee and was usually naked. It was so commonplace to me that it wasn't even worth getting up to spy on him, but I thought about it often. I was home from college about 3 weeks now and I only did it once. He was an impressive specimen of masculinity. I was a curious adolescent and now, as a young adult, I was finding myself drawn to masculinity.
Still no sign of mom returning. She has been cold, short, and distant on the phone with me, and spoke to my dad even less. It was cool. She was probably just tired from taking care of my grandparents. She was glad I was home to help my dad, Even though my dad is healthy, strong, and active, he had no domestic skills. I was happy to help out.
I laid there awake in bed for a few minutes. I stretched and pulled back the covers. My morning wood was straining my cotton jockey briefs and I had to pee. I took my time getting out of bed to let things relax. I sat up on the edge of the bed and faced the window. The morning sun bathed my wrestler's torso in golden light. As the golden shower within was still internally pressing on my bladder, I stood and headed to the hallway bathroom.
I opened my bedroom door and saw my bear of a dad, 6' 4", 250lbs muscular, hairy, naked body bounding past me to the bathroom. I also couldn't help notice his partial morning wood. His sizeable, thick cock flopped around on top of his ample ball sack. The man had absolutely nothing to be shy about. He beat me to the bathroom. "Snooze you lose," he said as he stood in front of the toilet in the dark bathroom. A thick, powerful stream started to flow. No prostate issues for this man. His stream was like a garden hose.
I reminded him that he had a bathroom in his bedroom. He always used the hall bathroom because it was closer to his side of the bed. Plus he never wanted to wake my mom by using the one in there room. Oddly the sight of him peeing send a hard pump of blood into my fleshy penis, and soon I was full on hard. Probably couldn't pee if I could get in the bathroom, so I flopped down on my bed and lied on my back. My legs were spread and my bulge was on full display.
No sooner did my head hit the pillow did the phone start to ring. "I got it." And I jumped up and hurried to my parents room to pick up the extension before the answering machine. It was either my mom or my dad's work. No one else would call at 5;40 A.M. In their room, I passed by the collection of 4 pairs of his white briefs on the floor. They were all positioned perfectly with the leg holes open, as if he just pulled them down and stepped out of them. Two were on the floor right next to his side of the bed. He obviously took them off and then got into bed. Today was laundry day so I would go in and collect them. "Hello?"
"Good morning, honey. Aww. Did I wake you?" It was my mom.
"No, I was up, kind of. How's Grandma and Papa?"
"They are fine. Doing much better, but still so old. They need so much help. Not sure what to do here. How are you and your father? Has Uncle Nick been around much?" I heard the toilet flush and the big man was in the bedroom in a second.
"Yeah he was here the other night. He brought a pizza." Silence from my mom. Dad reached for the phone with his big, fleshy, meaty paw. "Okay, dad's here now. Love you, mom. Chat soon." I handed the phone to my dad.
"Can you go make the coffee please? And close the door." I did as I was told and headed to the kitchen. I could hear muffled sounds of my dad talking. I got the coffee out of the fridge and counted out 12 scoops of beans and dumped them into the grinder. While I couldn't hear actual words, the tone of his voice was always telling. At first it was calm, then sounded almost defensive. Then agitated. I grinded the beans, but my curiosity was peaked. I tried to listen harder as I poured the coffee grounds into the percolator cup, and filled the pot with 12 cups of water. I readied the coffee pot, but never plugged it in. I was distracted by the kitchen phone. I remembered picking it up to listen in on my parents' phone calls as a teen. Whenever I got in trouble, my mom would go in her room and call my dad. I would listen in to see if I was going to get punished. I needed to know what was really happening between these two. I don't think they were ever apart for this long. I carefully picked up the phone with my finder on the hook. I listened for dad to start speaking louder and I released it. "We've been over this 1000x, Marie. You should probably speak to Nick." So, whatever was happening, Nick was involved.
"I just don't understand how..." He cut her off.
"Me either but it just happened. And there is nothing we can do about it but move on."
"I need to understand."
"I can't help you. I don't understand. It just happened. And I really think you are making too much of this."
"TOO much of this? Really? I don't think so. My husband and my brother? I don't know if I can actually look at you two again." Oh my God! My dad and uncle did something together that angered my mom. What could it be?
"Marie, come on. You're being unreasonable. It meant nothing. And besides, he started the whole thing." Did they visit a strip club. Get a hooker? Nah. not my dad. Maybe Uncle Nick. He and my aunt divorced 10 years ago. He hasn't been with anyone since.
"I don't think it's unreasonable to be disgusted by you two...pigs."
"Oh come on..." click. She hung up. I heard my dad slam down the receiver. I panicked and hung up the phone as his door opened. He got to the kitchen before I could step away from the phone. He stood in the doorway looking from me to the counter and back to me. I looked from him to the counter, back to him. His muscular forearms were outstretched, palms up as if to say, what's up here? "Where's the coffee?" I hurried over and plugged in the percolator. He looked puzzled. Then he looked at the phone. Then at me. I stared at him, judging him. His expression shifted to anger, then shame. "I'm going to get ready." And he turned and went back to his room. I heard him open his drawer to get his briefs and socks. "I need you to do laundry today. I'm running out. Even with the new pairs." The man had at least 30 pairs of white Calvin Klein briefs, size 34 waist. He was a 38 waist, but he wanted them snug.
