This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

“Hey, man, is anyone sitting here?” 

I looked over the top of my sunglasses and saw a bulge in red trunks. I followed the beefy torso and meaty pecs upward and involuntarily licked my lips when I saw his handsome face and mostly-pepper-with-a-hint-of-salt beard. I was reminded of what my Son always says whenever I enter the room: “Woof, daddy.” 

He was pointing at the unoccupied lounge chair to my right. “No,” I said, being sure to add some extra husky growl to my voice. I uncrossed my ankles and spread my thighs to show I was packing in my black swim trunks. “Be my guest.” 

He set his pool towel down and got situated. I glanced sideways and watched him, my gaze obscured behind the dark tint of my sunglasses. He pulled out a book and started reading. I tried to keep my eyes on my own book, but it was so damn hard. This guy was so hot, and it would be a crime not to chat him up. 

“You on vacation, man?” I asked. That was a stupid question, but I’m no brainiac at the best of times. My Son has seen to that. 

“Yeah,” he said. “We just checked in today.” 

“We? You here with your wife?” 

“No,” he said with a chuckle. 

“Girlfriend?” 

“No.” 

“Boyfriend?” 

He looked uncomfortable and he directed all of his attention to his book. “Uh, sort of.” 

I stared at my book for a minute or two, unable to think about anything but this hot guy just inches away. My Son would be so proud of me for thinking gay thoughts like this, and without prompting even. The tapes He makes me listen to must be catching on. 

I set my book down and tried again. “Whatcha reading, man?” I asked. 

He did a smile-frown and stammered a bit before answering. “Uh, just a book.” 

I lowered my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose and leaned over toward him.  “Want to hear a secret?”  He nodded, and I held up my book. “I’m not actually reading this. I’m just pretending.” 

He looked at me with surprise, then smiled.  “No way! Me, too. I’ve been staring at the same page for the last 10 minutes. Not much of a reader here.” 

I laughed and clapped a hand on his muscular bare shoulder. “Dude, same! Novels suck.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “A book without pictures is trash.” 

I dropped my book on the ground, and my face went slack. I spoke the next line of the programming in a monotone. “A book with lots of pictures is good.” 

He finished the line for me. “A magazine is even better.” 

I don’t know how long we sat there in dazed silence, but when I came to, we were both palming our bulges, books having been discarded on the poolside deck and splashed with water. I looked at him and felt both foggy and focused at the same time. I needed to be his friend, to the distraction of anything and everything else going on around me. 

“Dude, this is a weird question,” I said, then hesitated. “But by chance, are you here with your Son?” 

His face lit up and I knew his answer before he spoke. “Yeah! How’d you know? Wait, are you here with your Son, too?” 

I giggled like I had a secret I couldn’t keep, then nodded. We high fived. “Dude, this is so awesome,” I said. “I can’t believe I met another dad.” 

“Me, too, man!” he said and shook my hand firmly. “Did your Son make you gay, too?” 

“Yeah! Can’t you tell?” I said, glancing down at my bulging trunks. “Wanna go play frisbee?” 

“Sure, man! This is gonna be an awesome vacation.” 

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