Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*****
I sat in my parents' living room, waiting for Dad to finish getting ready for dinner at the Fountain Rock. On the way home, Dad said it was a date. I couldn't stop my head from spinning. All of this seemed to be a bit too easy. Or, was I over thinking things? Just last night, Dad and I had sex for the first time. This morning, he had misgivings about our sexual discovery of each other. But, then he gave in to his apparent sexual desire for me a short time later, before we left for the gym. Now, we were set to go on a date. Why was this happening so easily? Was it really happening so easily? I knew that I still had a ball of conflicting feelings growing ever larger inside me. The only thing I didn't know was what Dad was feeling about how our relationship had changed in just 24 hours. What did he want our relationship to be like going forward? What about his marriage to my mother? I didn't know what to think or feel. All I knew is that I was going out to the nicest restaurant in our town with my father and I'd be damned if I was going to let all of my worries ruin the evening for me.
When we got home from the gym, we stood in the foyer. Dad turned to put his windbreaker in the hall closet. As he was doing that, I walked up to him, wrapped my arms around him and started rubbing his chest through his t-shirt I kissed the back of his neck lightly and nuzzled my nose in his salt & pepper hair. Dad threw his head back onto my shoulder, took a sharp breath of air and moaned slightly. "Oh Son...that feels so good!"
"Yeah, stud?" I replied. "I wanted to do this to you when I passed you on the way out of the locker room. You looked so damn good, standing there bare-ass naked." I kissed and licked my way up his neck to his right cheek.
"It's a good thing you were able to restrain yourself. I don't think any of the other guys who were in the locker room at the time would've taken too kindly to two men making out right in front of their very eyes. Forget the fact that we're father and son."
"I don't know, Dad." I said in between kisses on the side of his neck, while tweaking his left nipple through his t-shirt. "I'd be willing to bet that each of those guys would've started jacking their dicks and more than a few would've joined in the fun."
Dad sighed, obviously getting pleasure from the ministrations my tongue, mouth, and hands were performing on his body. "I doubt it, Baby. The clientele of that gym is very heavily suburban married men...not the sort that would be into guy on guy action." My mind immediately flashed back to my encounter in the men's sauna with Mike. I vividly remembered licking the nipples on his hairy chest, kneeling on the sauna floor while sucking his cock, and sharing a passionate kiss with him at the conclusion of our fun...and he was sporting a wedding ring. If Dad only knew the type of clientele his gym REALLY had.
"Oh you mean married men like you?" I said in a jesting tone with a smirk on my face. I immediately felt Dad's posture tense and his head came off of my shoulder. Instantly, I knew I'd said the wrong thing.
"We'd better stop."
"Dad, I'm..."
He interrupted me before I could say any more. "Our reservation is in an hour and a half. If we don't start getting ready now, we'll miss it. You'd better head upstairs and jump in the shower."
"All right, Dad." I started toward the stairs and turned back to look at him. He was pulling his phone out of the pocket of his windbreaker and already starting to dial.
As I continued up the stairs, I heard him begin to talk, obviously leaving a voice mail message for someone. "Linda, it's Tim. I was hoping to get you on the phone. I just...I...I just wanted to tell you that I miss you. I can't wait for you to get home. We...we need to talk...about us...about our marriage." I heard him end the call and then mutter "Damn voice mail."
If I didn't know how Dad was feeling about him and me before, I certainly had an idea now that he was trying to reach my mother in Seattle. Truthfully, I felt a little bit of a knot in my stomach. What did this mean for my father and I?
That brings us back to the present. I heard the shower still running upstairs as I sat in the living room wearing a nice button-up shirt and khaki pants. Piercing the silence and my own thoughts was the ringing of my cell phone. Grabbing it off of the coffee table, I saw that it was Rob, a friend and ex co-worker of mine. He had left the company we had both worked for to go work for the competition a couple months before I was laid off. I figured I still had a few minutes for a quick chat with Rob before Dad was done getting cleaned-up, so I answered the call.
"Rob! Long time, no talk!"
"Hey there, Harry! How are things? I heard you left the city after things went south on the job."
"Yeah. It's true. I couldn't find work, so I decided to come back home for an extended visit with my family before resuming the job search. Other than that, everything's great. How are things with Jentech? I hear business is better than ever."
"It's the truth. They're expanding in a lot of ways. In fact, the expansion is creating tons of new jobs. Actually, that's why I'm calling."
"Oh?"
"It just so happens that Jentech is in need of two new Project Managers for their Research & Development section." The position I had been laid off from. "I told the supervisor of the R&D section that I happen to know an excellent Project Manager who is in the market for a challenging new position." A new job! My heart skipped a beat. Was this really happening? I didn't want to get ahead of myself, though.
"Rob, are you sure this is all legit and above board? I don't want to interview, get the job, accept the position, and relocate back to the city...only to be told a few months later that the job was actually only short-term and they won't need my services any longer."
"Harry, I'm telling you. This isn't a short-term position. This is a permanent job with advancement potential. We're friends, right? And you know how highly I thought of you when we worked together. I wouldn't have even bothered calling you about this if I had any hint that the job isn't going to be permanent."
"No, you're right, Rob. I'm sorry. I guess being out of work for these few months has made me a little gun-shy about getting optimistic."
"Totally understandable, buddy. So, can I tell the R&D supervisor that you're on your way for an interview?" I wanted to say "yes!" before he even finished the sentence. But then I thought of Dad...and what might happen to our newfound relationship if I had to pick-up and move back to the city. He most certainly would want to stay here, especially if he and my mother got their marriage back on track. I think my silence must've told Rob that I was having some misgivings about the whole thing. "Harry, why are you even hesitating here? You don't have a new job already, do you?"
"No. No, of course not. Are you kidding? This job would be the perfect opportunity for me, but..."
Rob obviously didn't hear me say "but," because he immediately started talking. "Great! I'll call the supervisor and tell him you'll be here tomorrow afternoon to interview. Can't wait to see you, bud!" He ended the call before I had a chance to say anything else. Great! Now what was I going to do?
Taking things in a vacuum, this job really WAS the perfect opportunity for me. I needed the work and the money desperately. But I could hardly take the situation in a vacuum, could I? What would Dad say? Shit...I didn't even know what Dad thought about our sexual relationship. For all I know, he'd wish me well on the interview and help me pack my bags if I got the job. I decided that I wouldn't tell him about the interview. I don't know how I planned to pull it off, but I was going to leave early tomorrow morning to drive back to the city...then drive back home. If I got the job, then I'd worry about how to break it to Dad. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy the evening with my father...my lover. Suddenly, his voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see Dad standing in front of me, waving his hand in front of my face.
"I'm sorry. What?"
