I was leisurely straightening up my usual mess around the house. An empty beer can here, half eaten bag of chips there. I'm not a slob or anything, I sometimes just tend to leave stuff lying around where it shouldn't be. And then I'll look around and get disgusted with myself for being lazy and pick up the random socks and bottles and wrappers and make it all nice again. It's been like this a lot since my wife and I divorced. I've always been bisexual, and my wife knew that from the beginning. But as it turned out, she wasn't as open minded as I was about sex. The day she caught me fucking the neighbor's college age son she freaked out completely and left. Divorce papers followed. I wasn't broken up about our divorce, In fact it felt kind of liberating. Now I am free to approach my sexuality without judgment.
But this day I was straightening up for a reason. My son Brian was coming home from college for a weekend visit. And he was bringing his roommate home to spend the Thanksgiving weekend with us. Apparently his roommate didn't have any family plans for the holiday, which I thought was a little odd, but when my son asked if he could spend the holiday with us I of course said yes, that would be fine.
Brian is a very level headed, respectful and ambitious boy. He is a delight to be around with his contagious high energy levels and vicious humor. I think he takes after his mother. And anyone he has befriended in his 18 years has always been a lot like him. When he becomes friends with someone, it's as if they are completely in tune with each other. Finishing each other's sentences and that sort of thing. So it was no surprise to me really when he phoned me and told me about how well he and his roommate this year hit it off and became close friends, and was it OK to bring him along for Thanksgiving since he had no other plans. I of course said yes that would be fine with me. "Any friend of yours is lucky to have you as a friend, son. He is welcome to share the holiday with us."
A little about me. My name is Tom Benson. I'm an average 48 year old divorced bisexual guy. I work hard. I manage to stay in decent shape. I carry about 180 pounds on my 6 foot frame. Reasonable muscle tone. Not a gym rat or body builder, but I'm not embarrassed when I look at myself naked in a mirror. Children don't run away screaming when they see me on the street. Just an average friendly guy next door type of guy.
My son Brian is a bit shorter than me. He has light brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He's around 5 foot 8 and weighs around 150 pounds. And he is all muscle. I swear there is not an ounce of fat anywhere on his body. He has been a competitive swimmer most of his life, and still is in college. I guess his daily workouts keep him in such great shape. And let me tell you, the sight of his perfect body in a small pair of racing speedos would make anyone melt with desire. Male or female. He is just that beautiful and perfect.
We have never been shy around each other. It's not unusual for us to be lounging around in our underwear, or him sometimes in just a jock strap. He says he likes the freedom of not being bound in clothing. And while he is my son, I have to admit I enjoy the view of his beautiful almost naked body.
He knows I'm into both guys and girls. And he couldn't be more non-judgmental about my sexuality. He once told me "Dad, it doesn't matter to me who you love or have sex with. You're my Dad and I love you and always will." I have never pressed him with questions about his own sexuality. First of all I don't care who he loves or has sex with either. And second I never wanted to force him to tell me anything he wasn't ready and willing to have me know.
Anyway, back to where I am today. I'm walking around the house in my usual boxer briefs picking up trash and socks and stuff trying to make the house look presentable when I hear a car door slam shut in the driveway. Thinking it's Brian arriving I swing the front door open and yell "come here and give me a big hug!"
As I look out the door, standing there is a very baffled looking gorgeous young man. He looks me up and down for a second, then says "You must be Mr. B. I'm Brian's roommate, Eric. And I know we just met but I wouldn't mind a hug if that was a real offer." Then he leans forward and throws his arms around me and gives me a very strong bear hug.
Eric is a stunning boy. Blond hair, brown eyes and a body that looks almost identical to my son's. As he gives me a death squeeze of a hug I think I feel his cock against my thigh. And it feels half hard, which causes my own cock to begin to come to life in my boxer briefs.
Upon realizing that here I am standing in my doorway in my boxer briefs, half hard myself, being hugged in a death grip by a boy I never met before I stammered out "I'm so sorry, Eric. I thought it was Brian."
