Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
***
I put my key in the front door lock, turned it and pushed the door open. I took one last deep breath and then walked inside.
From the foyer, I saw Dad sitting on the couch with the television on. He was looking at me. It was obvious that he had turned to look into the foyer when he heard the door open. "Harry, I'm glad you're home..."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you watching TV," I said somewhat coldly.
"I just had it on for noise. I haven't been able to concentrate enough to focus on whatever's on," Dad said sheepishly.
"Yeah. I guess hot sex with your best friend will do that to you!" Immediately after the words came out of my mouth, I regretted uttering them. This isn't who I was. I wasn't a bitter, spiteful person who uses biting sarcasm to wound someone. After making the decision to walk into the house tonight, I decided to try and look beyond my worries and nerves and try to talk to Dad about what had transpired tonight. Instead, my jealousy and anger reared their ugly head.
"Harry!" Dad admonished me with a wide-eyed look on his face. Not surprisingly, he was as shocked at my last remark as I was. I averted my eyes from his face.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean that the way it came out."
"Son, why don't you sit down? There's a lot that we have to talk about."
"Sure. We can talk. But I'd like to grab a shower first." After my incredibly erotic encounter with Rick, I wanted to freshen up and get all of the dried cum off of my body before launching into what was sure to be a long, intense, and emotional discussion.
"All right. I'll just go and start dinner while you do that. Have you eaten yet?"
"No."
"Great! I haven't either."
"Okay. I'll be back down in a few minutes." I headed for the stairs. Before disappearing up them, I looked back into the living room to see Dad lean back on the couch, take a deep breath, and rub his hands over his face a few times. What was he thinking? What would he tell me tonight? My stomach started wobbling in my belly. If I had anything on my stomach at the time, I had a feeling it wouldn't have stayed there long.
Upstairs, as I stepped into the shower and underneath the cascading water, I resolved to show a strong face to Dad. I'd listen to what he had to say, but I wasn't going to let him see how disappointed I was in him. And, if what he had to tell me was that he and Jim were going to explore their obvious attraction to each other, I'd do my best to be supportive of him...though I was certain there would be at least a little bit of bitterness on my part at being the one to make Dad realize he was attracted to men, only to have Jim be the one to guide him on the rest of his journey. I had to shake my head to snap myself out of my thoughts. I was getting VERY ahead of myself. After all, last night Dad had insisted he'd never leave my mom. It was more than a big leap for me to assume he'd change his mind after having sex with Jim earlier today, no matter how good in bed Jim might have been.
Taking stock of my own thoughts, I realized how utterly tinged with jealousy they seemed. In that moment, I realized what my true feelings were. There was no doubt any longer. My escapade at the gym with Mike yesterday and the passionate lovemaking with Rick earlier tonight were hot...and sexy...and sweet...and totally erotic. But they both lacked one essential element and it was an element that I knew I needed to have: love. Earlier tonight, being next to Rick, feeling his naked body on top of me and next to me, his strong arms around me and his mouth driving me crazy with kisses, I knew that was the way love was supposed to feel. However, I don't love Rick. The only man I've loved for many years, if I were completely honest with myself, was downstairs in the kitchen, fixing dinner. I wasn't falling in love with my dad. I was already in love with him.
As I shut off the shower and began drying myself off, I had designs on going downstairs naked and propositioning him to make love to me on the kitchen floor. Then I'd tell him about my job in the city. He'd immediately decide to come with me. Tomorrow, we'd ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. If only it were that easy. Two big obstacles were in my way. One being Jim. For all I knew, he and my father were now an item. The other obstacle, of course, being my mother. My parents were still married. If Dad wanted to be with either me or Jim, he still had to face separating from and divorcing my mother. Here I was, again mentally getting ahead of myself. Just because Jim and Dad had sex, it didn't mean that they had decided to "go off and shop for curtains," so to speak. Men have sex with each other all the time without any emotional attachment being involved. Apparently, I wasn't one of those guys. I like to think of myself as being able to detach emotionally when necessary. But something about Dad hopping into bed with Jim the day after he told me emphatically that he's not gay and wouldn't leave my mother cut a little too deeply.
I finished drying off, walked to my room, and threw on a t-shirt and shorts. As I made my way back downstairs, I wasn't sure what to expect. I knew I needed to tell Dad what I was feeling. Unfortunately for me, I was feeling several things at once. How could I possibly convey that?
By the time I got downstairs, dinner was ready. We sat at the dining room table in silence for most of dinner. Each of us tried to have casual conversation, but each attempt didn't last very long. The tension that hung in the air weighed too heavily on both of us for there to be casual conversation. After dinner was over, I helped Dad clean off the table. After putting the dishes in the sink, Dad put his hand on my shoulder. "These can wait until later. Let's go into the living room. We can't put this off any longer. We have to talk."
As we both walked into the living room and sat down, I felt like I was walking to a firing squad. My stomach was tied in knots. I wasn't sure what to expect from this conversation, though I knew our relationship would be changed somehow after it was over. For a few moments, we looked at each other, unsure of how to start. Finally, Dad spoke.
"Harry, I realize that you saw Jim and I having sex this afternoon."
"Yeah, it was kinda hard to miss!" I interrupted. Dad ignored my snide remark.
"I owe you an explanation of what you saw."
"No, Dad. You don't. I'm a 31 year old man. I know what I saw. A picture does tell a story, after all..."
"True. But the real story isn't what you think it is."
"Oh really? Then what's the real story? Because the story I was told last night was that you aren't gay - in fact you were pretty emphatic about that point - and you wouldn't be leaving Mom to be with me. Then, I walk into this house this afternoon and find you in bed with your best friend. That tells me that it's okay for you to fool around with other men, but the idea of us being together just isn't a possibility!"
"Son, you couldn't be more wrong!"
"I don't think I'm wrong. In fact, I don't think we need to continue this conversation. There's no point!" I started to get up off of the sofa when Dad grabbed my arm.
"Sit down, Harry. You don't know the whole story of what happened between Jim and I earlier. You owe it to me to let me explain everything to you. If you respect me at all as your father, you'll let me finish the story." I sat back down on the sofa with my arms folded across my chest.
"Fine. Continue the story." I certainly wasn't going to make it easy for him to get back in my good graces.
"Jim called this morning and wanted me to meet him for lunch. With you already gone wherever it was that you went, I decided to meet him. We sat and talked for a long time, but I couldn't get out of my head the things you said at dinner last night about thinking that Jim's gay. He must've been able to tell that I had a lot on my mind, so he pressed me to tell him about it. I agreed, so we came back here. I told him about your suspicion and he confirmed that you're right."
