The Day I F-D My Gf's Father

I let the phone ring a few times. Maybe Jay would wake up, maybe I could ignore it. I looked over at the house phone, it was a green jade sculpture carved in the shape of a retro-style rotary phone. It vibrated like a modern smart device. Now I had to pick it up, if only to see what the actual keypad looked like.

I picked up the in-room phone, holding the light plastic receiver to my ear. There was a key pad directly under the receiver, with a caller-id screen. It was the hospital.

"Hello?" said a voice on the other end. "I'm looking for Mr. Jayden Lorri."

'I'm sure you are.' Jay looked so peaceful. His wet naked body was laid out, completely exposed, with his muscular arms stretched over his head. It took every ounce of self-control to not lick every inch of his beautiful skin; from his chest, down his abs, to his magnificent cock.

"Um, hello? Is anyone there?"

'Oh, right, the hospital.' The logical thing would be to wake Jay, but a part of me wanted to watch him in this divine state of slumber. So, I did what I'd done on more than one occasion, I took the call myself. "Yes, this is Jayden Lorri."

"Do you know a Rebecca Marie Conner?"

"She's my daughter," I replied in my best Irish accent. I was pretty sure I didn't sound like Jay, but at this hour of the morning hopefully no one would care enough to catch on.

"Ms. Conner is currently in the emergency room of," as expected, it was the hospital we had just left. But that raised other questions. Had Becca followed us? Or did she happen to get arrested in the nice part of town?

"Is she ok?" Of course not, you idiot! "I mean, is she alive?"

"Yes, she's very much alive." Turns out Becca wasn't too badly hurt, but in her current (inebriated) state she would be required to stay the night.

I shook Jay's arm. "We need to head back to the hospital."

"Why?"

"I'll explain on the way."

Jay thew on a t-shirt and jeans, and put on a pot of coffee. It was nearly five in the morning when we started driving back to the city. Actually, I watched the sunrise while Jay drove. Thankfully, the roads were pretty empty. "What do you think happened to Becca?"

"I dunno, you were the one who took the call." He rolled his neck, letting out a yawn. "We should probably check on her first, just to make sure she's not wailing on a nurse or stealing from the medicine closet." Turns out, Jay was spot on.

At the entrance to the ER, we were greeted by a middle-aged woman in a nurse's uniform taking a much-needed drag off a cigarette. "You here for Miss Rebecca Marie?"

"Yes ma'am," Jay replied with a bow. He looked like the world's most hungover European prince.

"Let's get you some visitor passes." Walking back with our new escort we learned Becca was in a private room at the very end of the hall. "If it had a number, it would be 13, so just count the doors."

Jay thanked her and we continued on our way. "She didn't want to escort us," he muttered.

"To an unmarked room." Yeah, this was going to be bad.

Becca was handcuffed to the bed like a patient in an asylum. "Wow, Marcus," she said, looking up with exhausted eyes. "It took you long enough."

Clearly, she had used up all of her energy on the nurses. "Wow," I repeated in my best Irish accent. "So, who'd you murder?"

"The answer will be you, if you don't get me out of here."

"Wrong answer." I could have easily gotten her out, but I couldn't help but make her suffer a little. "Which one of his cars did you take?"

"You first," she said with a flirtatious smirk.

"What?"

"That's how you got here right? You stole a car, maybe grabbed something valuable we could pawn for gas money?" Becca wanted to prove I was just as bad as she was. So, it came as no surprise that Jay took this as his cue to enter the room.

"Hey sweetheart," Jay said with a coy smile. "You look like you had fun."

Becca rolled her eyes. "Well, you look like shit."

Jay leaned against the doorframe like a high-end fashion model. "Now that I know you're still among the living, I think I'm going to visit someone who is not quite as offended by my presence." With that he left, letting the door slam shut.

There was an awkward silence. I made sure to wait exactly two minutes before fashioning a lock pick.

"Will you hurry up!" Becca grumbled. "Grab a thumbtack off the wall and get me out of here." That was when I noticed she was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. it all fell in to place; Becca had violently fought to keep her street clothes.

"Give me a second." It only took me a few seconds to get her free of the cuffs.

Becca sprang up with renewed energy. "This is our chance."

"What, no!" Was she planning on ditching Jay?

Becca gripped my hand, as if she could try to drag me by force. "We need to get out of here."

"I'm not leaving my dad."

"You're kidding right?" Becca chuckled nervously. "You're such a child."

"Say whatever you want, I'm not moving."

She took a step closer, poking me in the chest. She was clearly about to spew out another high school level insult, when she suddenly paused. "Why do you smell like that?"

"Like what?" I asked, implying she was perhaps still a little intoxicated.

Becca came closer, pressing her forehead to mine. She took a moment to sniff me like a bloodhound. "Why do you smell like sex?"

I didn't know how to respond. In all honesty I was just waiting for her to pull out a knife.

Thankfully, my look of fear seemed to satisfy her anger. "Marcus, tell me the truth. Did you fuck my daddy?" Now she was laughing.

"Whatever." Her words did not warrant a response.

"I mean, I know you're a bisexual slut, but seriously?"

I rolled my eyes. "Takes one to know one."

Becca paused for a moment, as if trying to stop herself from laughing out loud. "Let's go check on your dad." She started to walk towards the staff breakroom. "It's past visiting hours so we'll have to find a way to sneak past security." Becca brushed up against a male nurse, and then quickly ducked around the corner. I casually followed her to where she was holding open the staff only elevator. "Do you know his room?"

"The ICU."

"Even better."

From the elevator I could see the room number. "A 23, I think that's around the corner."

We ducked in to the room next-door. I followed her lead as she stood on a chair and removed the vent. "Just like that night in Tennessee."

"Yes, sure." I knew she was referring to the time we broke in to a pharmacy. Becca had the body of an athlete; the strength and agility of a gymnast, with the stealth and speed of a ballerina-martial arts-ninja. Moving in the shadows, we slipped into the cleaning closet. We were now stuck. I could see through a vent that we were in my father's room. All we had to do was shout for help.

Becca put her hand over my mouth. "Shh. Let's listen for a bit."

"Sure." I agreed since we had a good view, decent lighting and air. We were safe. (And I kind of wanted to see what happened next.)

Jay placed his warm trembling hands to my father's throat, he stood silently, observing the man's breath. "Can you swallow for me? I want to examine the extent of your muscle control."

There was a lull in conversation. I assumed, with a bit of struggle, my father was able to swallow, thereby proving his ability to survive outside of the ICU.

"Good job," Jay said in a confident, professional tone. "Are you able to breathe on your own?"

My father nodded. He lifted his hand, attempting to reach for his oxygen mask. "Where's my boy?" His voice was soft but strong. He didn't need the extra help.

"Marcus is here, we're all here for you." Jay was stroking my father's hand, his wrist.

"Thank you." With some struggle, my father sat up, placing his weight on his elbow, to reach the bed controls. "Thank you for everything."

Jay reached out to my father's face; the rough stubble on his strong, but emaciated jaw. " I can feel your courage, your strength." I watched as Jay caressed his thumb to my father's lower lip, coaxing his mouth open. "You've always been so strong."

My father gripped the back of Jay's neck. He moved his fingers through Jay's hair.

"Just focus on my eyes," Jay's voice was calm, professional.

Becca put her arms around my waist, resting her head on my shoulder. "See, he wants us to watch." I could feel her hand over the crotch of my sweatpants. she slipped her fingers under my waistband, helping herself to my cock. "Does that make you hot?"

"Becca stop," I said in a wavering tone. I didn't want her to touch me, but I didn't mind it.

"Just keep your eyes on my daddy, and let me have my fun."

Jay took a step back. He removed the thin hospital blanket revealing my father's body as he climbed into bed.

I could feel my pulse in my throat as my father reached for Jay's hand, guiding him to the bed controls. He wanted this, they needed this.

I could say this came as somewhat of a surprise, but I had to admit; the only woman I'd ever seen my father with was my mother. And my mother was not a great representation of the female species.

From what I could see from the vent of the closet, Jay cupped his face, their lips meeting in a single, life affirming kiss. Jay had so much strength to give, to share.

My father returned the gesture, holding his lover close. Soon he was matching jay breath for breath. At first, I couldn't tell if they were fucking. It was possible Jay was just on top of him., massaging, grinding, riding him like a surfer on a bodyboard.

Jay took off his belt, slipping down the waistband of his jeans with one hand, while the other disappeared between his legs. The lavender tinted moonlight of the window painted Jay's naked ass and thighs. My father's amputated leg, allowed me a view of Jay's well lubed cock. His precum was like a drinking fountain, a never-ending supply of juice just begging for a mouth; or two or three.

My father gripped Jay's thigh, guiding him in for a slow, deep penetration. It was clear they'd done this before.

My heart was racing, my breath hot. I could practically feel Jay's cock inside me. Becca was jerking me off, using her hands, and then (what I assumed was) her mouth. She could do whatever she wanted. I was lost in my own mind.

Jay leaned his head back. He was squeezing my father's hand as he leaned in for a kiss. "Do you want it inside?" He was already ejaculating. Filling my daddy's ass with every thrust.

I could feel Jay's cock fucking me so deep. I wanted him to hold me, to dominate me. I wanted his body against mine. 'Oh God, yeah. Fuck me please.' I was so close. I could feel my heart racing, my abs; my hips, my cock. My imagination was as real as my body.

As if on cue, the room filled with the sounds of alarms; heart monitor, oxygen reader and whatever else my father had been hooked up to. Security would be coming. That only seemed to make Jay want to fuck harder.

I gripped whatever was in front of me as I climaxed over and over. I was fucking, something. Something was fucking me. Either way I was blowing my load.

My father was jerking off, abusing himself like a porn star. He was putting on a show for Jay. And it was kind of hot.

They kissed soft and slow. Over and over as he stayed balls deep in my father's ass. "Do you like that?" Jay asked in a breath.

I could hear knocking, likely from night-shift nurses wanting to know what the fuck was going on. 'Did Jay lock the door? Did it even matter?'

Jay's naked hips and thighs quivered. He was still climaxing. I couldn't see his face, but I'd like to think he had tears in his eyes. I pictured him taking on my father's pain like a sexual, Jesus Christ.

Jay did resemble Jesus. That was what made him so damn hot.

That was when the door to the cleaning closet collapsed. Becca landed face down on the tile floor. Even with just her ass exposed, I could clearly see my seed dripping down her legs. Using one hand, she quickly made herself presentable; pulling her jeans up and her shirt down. This was a skill she'd learned from years of practice. "Hi, Daddy."

Jay ran his fingers through his hair, taking a moment to stretch his back and remove himself from my father's ICU bed. "Marcus, please hold down the fort while I check in with the medical staff."

"Sure."

Before he left, he slipped my father a marijuana joint and a box of matches. Jay made sure to grab Becca, leaving me alone with my father. "Do me a favor and get him dressed, then meet me at the patio garden."

"Sure, will do." I assumed he was going to speak to the nurse, about the option of discharging both his daughter and my father (even if it was AMA, or 'against medical advice.') This was not a place any of us wanted to be.

Now I had to turn my attention to getting my dad cleaned up. I put my palm over his tip. He was soaked with cum, and he was still hard. Strangest of all he didn't even seem embarrassed.

My father's hand drifted to his cock. "During the firefight outside the border of Pakistan. I took a bullet to the shin. I also took a round to the chest and that was all I could think about. I lived with a rotting bullet in my leg for a little over a week." He started to masturbate, closing his eyes as he worked his shaft. "I was dying of sepsis when the docs finally amputated my leg. When I woke up in the ICU, I was so sick, weak, and high as fuck."

I left him to finish, gathering his clothes.

"My body is my own; the one thing God gave us." He was close. My daddy spread his legs as he climaxed.

I placed my hand on his chest, wiping downward towards his stomach. His slender body was tight, strong. It was as if Jay's cum embodied a supernatural strength. "Lean on my shoulder."

I helped my father dress, out of bed, and into a wheelchair. "So, how do you know Jay?"

"I've been very sick for a long time, but I was determined to find you. I didn't even know if I could save you from your Ma. I just knew I needed to try." He pursed his lips, blinking back tears. He was baring his soul.

"Let's get out of here," I said, hoping to coax a smile.

"Yeah, I need a fucking cigarette."

'More like a post-fucking cigarette.' I wheeled him to the outdoor patio area intended for smokers. "Is this better?"

My father nodded, closing his eyes as he lit up. "On the internet," he took a drag off his cigarette. "I think it was reddit. I found a support forum for men who stuck their dick in crazy."

"Of course." Try as I might I couldn't hide my smile. "I assume that's how you met Jay."

"We traded war stories about sadistic cunts who ran off with our kids."

"I bet you did." How many other people did he communicate with? Or was it Jay who found him?

"Jay had been looking for Rebecca for years. He hired private investigators who pointed him in the direction of where she was, and that she just happened to be your little girlfriend." My father chuckled softly at his own joke. "It was fate that our paths crossed." My father's hands trembled, as he struggled to hold his cigarette. "I got," his eyes closed as his voice drifted off.

"Got what?" I asked, shaking his arm.

"I can't even remember the name."

'Oh.' My father was referring to whatever illness he was dying of. I did not want to continue this line of conversation. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can try." He ran his fingers through his hair, his sweaty blond hair.

"Are you," I debated how to phrase the question. It really wasn't any of my business.

"Bisexual?" My father leaned back, rolling his neck in a relaxing manner. He started to give himself a scalp massage. "To make love to someone like Jay is to know.

"Know what?"

"To see God, to experience perfection. Jay has a true gift. Maybe he's a legit angel. or an alien. That'd be something, right?

Clearly, my father was high on life, but I knew what he meant. Being bisexual was not the same as being with Jay. "We can talk more later."

He nodded, appearing to drift off. "Just promise me one thing."

"Sure," I said with a hint of caution.

"I don't want to die in a hospital." He reached for my hand, opening his palm. "I just want something for the pain."

Before I could respond Jay reappeared. "Let's get out of here."

"Where's Becca?"

"I bribed her with some smokes and the promise of a warm bed," he said as he maneuvered my father's wheelchair.

"So, what you're saying we need to get back to the car before she ditches us?" I wish I was kidding.