Note -- this story is about gay incest, it also contains some derogatory language, reader discretion is advised.
Note -- thanks to JohnMurray and Don Elliott for editing and input.
I'm Dan, 37, with shaggy, dirty blonde hair, blue/grey eyes, 5'8", and 120lbs. I have two sons, Alan and Bill.
Alan is 19, 6', with shoulder-length brown hair and deep blue eyes. He is the sporty one and got to college on a soccer scholarship.
Bill is 18, 6'2", body builder type with a blond crew cut and grey eyes. He says he's going to be a marine.
If you believe that.
I suspect he's going for the WWE with all that posing he does.
Or Onlyfans knowing my luck.
Their mom and I had split 10 years ago, and for a few years, I got to see them on alternate weekends and for a week or so over the holidays. Then they hit their teens and became more interested in girls, sports, games, and hanging out with their mates.
It hurt, but I didn't want to risk damaging my relationship with them by demanding to see them when they'd literally rather be anywhere else. I haven't dated much since the split, didn't feel like 'getting back out there'.
The dating landscape had changed so much as to be completely unrecognisable.
Not to mention scary.
I swam a couple of times a week and did Pilates to try to fend off the 'dad bod'. I avoided as much social engagement as I could, apart from the local bar on quiet nights.
My ex got most of the mutual friends in the split, and the few I had drifted away since I didn't really put the effort in.
It was spring break, and I had decided that I would rent an apartment in Florida and take the boys with me.
Out of character, you say?
Definitely.
But I felt like I needed a break from my routine, and this way, I got to make sure the boys didn't get too wild.
Plus, it was my first opportunity to spend some quality time with them in years. Maybe I could start to get to know them as individuals rather than the children they used to be.
A fresh start, a clean slate and a new beginning, hopefully without baggage.
And maybe, just maybe, I thought that some college girls might be looking for an older man to 'work out some daddy issues'...
Why would two college boys want their dad tagging along when they would be on a week-long blowout? Free place to stay, free food, free drink and a safe haven in case they had a fight with their mates.
Their only stipulations were that I didn't come with them when they went out, and the place had to have a pool and ideally be by the beach.
No problem.
The problem was the apartment was tiny and only had one real bedroom. The second room was a small office with a single camp bed shoehorned.
The boys looked at me accusingly. I smiled and shrugged. "What did you expect? Something off of MTV?"
Bill rolled his eyes, folded his muscular arms across his big chest, flexing in evident frustration, staring at the ceiling.
Al scowled and said, "Uh, Dad! You're so old!"
"Look, it's simple." I said, still smiling, "Every night before you two hit the town, we'll play cards. Winner gets the biggest room for the night, and the loser gets the couch." Al and Bill exchanged wary glances. "And..." I added, rummaging in a bag, "If anyone doesn't stick to their assigned room or fails to do their chores, they have to wear this!" I said, and with a flourish, I pulled a skimpy French maid uniform out of the bag.
Both of them stared open-mouthed in horror.
"In addition, they have to do all the cooking and cleaning chores for the day regardless of rota."
"On one condition," Al said, looking from me to Bill and back.
"Which is?" I replied.
"No pics or videos to be taken while we're here," Al said.
"Fine." huffed Bill.
"Suits me," I said nonchalantly.
That ended the discussion on the apartment and sleeping arrangements.
With the unexpected bonus of no photographic or video evidence of the drunken idiocy that was bound to happen at some point.
We all unpacked in the main bedroom and headed to the shops to stock up on food and drink. Despite only staying for 5 days, we somehow needed 10 bottles of vodka, 10 bottles of tequila, 20 bottles of wine and 4 crates of beer.
We returned and loaded the kitchen, then stuck a cleaning and chore rota to the fridge, just like back in college.
That being done, I fried some steaks, and we opened some bottles so they could 'pre-game'.
They headed out at 11pm to sample the nightlife before they hit the beaches tomorrow when spring break officially started.
Having drank a little too much wine I took the master bedroom, assuming they would be too drunk to care where they slept the first night.
Even at night, it was hot and humid; the windows were open, but the air was still. I slept nude on top of the covers, figuring out the A/C could wait for the morning.
At some point, the boys returned, stumbling around, clattering into things until they made it to the couch. A heavy thud indicated one of them had found his bed for the night. The other threw a blanket over him before leaving the sick bucket next to his head, along with a bottle of water.
Bill then drunkenly swayed his way to the master bedroom. I could see his face in the darkness before I wrapped a pillow around my head to block out the noise and turned on my side, facing away from him.
I heard him stumbling around, getting undressed in an unfamiliar environment, muttering to himself as he lay down next to me.
Also nude.
The additional body warmth didn't bother me.
