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Tag: dad/Son (Page 1 of 5)

Countdown to midnight (My perfect dad 46)

It was getting late. Empty beer bottles and pizza boxes littered the living room. The TV screensaver stopped looping and plainly asked, Are you still watching? Zach and I lay sprawled out on the couches, lethargic from too much food and even more alcohol. A pack of cards rested on the coffee table between us. It was still in the plastic, evidence of my underwhelming party-planning skills.  

“Thanks for hanging out, Trev,” he murmured. “You don’t have to wait up with me until midnight.”  

I looked at my watch. It was 11:53 p.m. “Not much longer to go,” I said. “Besides, I’m as curious as you are.”  

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Black Friday (My perfect dad 45)

Every store in the Commonwealth trotted out their old, unshifted merchandise on Black Friday. As a date on the calendar, it was a quaint holdover from the pre-Reform, back when people sold you stuff you didn’t need just because you had money, and they could convince you to spend it. It was harmless cultural theater, like those recreations of historic villages with actors churning butter and feigning shock at your zippers. 

My best friend Adrian and I ventured into the old commercial sector this year for some Black Friday window shopping. Our dads tried to talk us out of it, saying it was rude to waste a shopkeeper’s time if we had no intention of buying anything. Typical dadNet programming, trying to guilt us into staying home. We went anyway and had a great time trying on boots and coloring in mood panels with hand gestures while our dads remained docked at home. We had just left a home appliances warehouse and were about to break for lunch when I saw him standing in the window. 

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Thanksgiving in a box (My perfect dad 44)

The box showed up on our doorstep a week before Thanksgiving. We were confused. It couldn’t possibly have been the prep-by-step Thanksgiving dinner we ordered. It was way too early, and the box wasn’t nearly heavy enough.  

“Do you think we got scammed?” I asked my boyfriend Paul.  

“What do you mean we, Mr. Subscription Delivery Service Addict?” he said with a smirk. “I’m not the one who ordered it. I told you I’d be happy with pizza and beer.”  

We’d done pizza and beer for two consecutive lockdown Thanksgivings. I was ready for something special, but neither of us was a great cook. I wanted premeasured ingredients and a simple chart to follow. Thanksgiving-in-a-box was the answer, or so I thought.  

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Proud dads (My perfect dad 41)

Norman parked his gray SUV in front of the rundown storefront and then lifted his sunglasses to get a better look at the surroundings. A feeling of unease rose in his gut. It occurred to him that this whole thing could have been a setup, but it was impossible to tell. The building’s windows were all papered over, and aside from an old camper that looked like it had been abandoned for months, the parking lot was empty. 

“Are you sure this is right, Dave?” he asked, turning to the passenger riding with him. “This place looks deserted. Check the group text again.” 

Stylized image of an abandoned strip mall.
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A Son for the Weekend

Ever since the day a hungover Ted made up a story about his son as an excuse to skip work, he’s had to dodge questions from coworkers, give noncommittal answers, and change the subject to cover up the fact that he doesn’t even have a son.

Now, long past the point of telling the truth, Ted’s boss invites him to his lake house for the weekend—an important, off-the-record step on the path to a promotion—and tells him to bring his son along. Unable to come clean and unwilling to miss out on the opportunity to impress his boss, Ted convinces Matteo, a down-on-his-luck barista, to play the part of 22-year-old Teddy, Jr. Ted’s attraction to Matteo makes it hard to keep up the ruse at first, but as the weekend progresses, all Ted wants is for the hunky stud to call him “dad.”

A Son for the Weekend is a 7,700-word short story. All content in this story is fictional and describes activities between consenting, unrelated adults who are 18+.

A Son for the Weekend (excerpt)

The following excerpt is from A Son for the Weekend: A Gay Taboo/Age Gap Story, which is available exclusively for purchase on Kindle.

The five-hour drive to Bearden’s lake house got off to an uneventful start. As soon as they piled into Ted’s SUV, Matteo put his earbuds in and leaned his seat back. The younger hunk was asleep and snoring before they even got onto the highway. As relieved as Ted had been when Matteo agreed to come along, he grew more and more anxious with each passing mile. After an hour on the road, he was even questioning the wisdom of his decision. The lie had gotten so far out of hand that Ted was bringing a stranger to a weekend at his boss’ house, and despite Matteo’s initial acceptance of Ted’s offer, there was no guarantee that he would agree to also play the role of Ted’s son for the next three days. 

It didn’t help Ted’s anxiety that Matteo was mind-numbingly hot. More than once, Ted’s attention wandered from the road ahead to the sleeping stud next to him, especially once he stretched out in the passenger’s seat and put his ripped body on full display. Even if Matteo played along, would Ted be able to? He would have to be on his best behavior, lest his boss catch him stealing glances at the hot younger guy who would be masquerading as his son. 

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Single-day project, part 2 (My perfect dad 40)

See Single-day project, part 1 for the first part of this story.

As usual, when the uplink terminated at the end of the day, the first thing I heard was the shriek of data noise in my head. I looked at my surroundings. It was nighttime, and I was alone sitting on a park bench in a neighborhood I didn’t recognize. I was still wearing the printed clothes I’d received that morning—a tight white T-shirt with DAD printed in block letters on the left breast and a pair of equally snug dark shorts. My entire body was drenched in sweat, which made my clothes cling to my skin. I was also holding a leash, with a golden retriever sitting obediently at my feet at the other end. 

That’s weird, I thought. If the project is over, why do I still have this dog

True to the confidentiality agreement I’d signed earlier that day, I had absolutely zero memories of the nature of the single-day project, or even anything I’d done that day. As the data noise quieted down inside my head, I waited for confirmation that Synaptica had processed my payment and the post-assignment instructions for how to arrange transportation home. 

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Reinforcements (My perfect dad 38)

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.

Out in the real world, I was usually invisible. I preferred it that way. When no one is paying attention to you, there’s no one to disappoint. No one makes your life miserable just because they’re bored and they’ve decided to make you their free entertainment. At my job, I was just another junior copywriter, one of a dozen laboring away in identical cubicles. At my favorite bookstore, I was just some brainy nerd who knew everything there was to know about the Diet of Worms. In my group of friends, I was the quiet one who always showed up on time and who always left behind extra cash to supplement everyone else’s embarrassingly small tips. In the real world, I was ordinary and unremarkable. Maybe even forgettable. 

But at home, I was Master Paul, the young, dominant owner of three hot, submissive, older men. Every morning I woke up to one of them gently kissing Me awake, while another ironed My work clothes and the third prepared breakfast. Everywhere else, I was just another mild mannered twenty something with too many student loans and a goatee that never quite grew in right. But here, I am the Master, and what I say goes. They’re all 20 years or more My senior, and each of them is a respected professional in their field. But at home, they’re My property. 

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What dad thinks (My perfect dad 37)

 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.

I can’t believe it’s only been six months. There’s a part of me that is grateful You’ve changed my appearance so drastically, Son. At least I can go out in public without ex-friends and ex-colleagues noticing me. The beard and all the beef helps a lot, but I hate the way You dress me up and force me to act when You take me out, Son. It’s humiliating. No one really believes I’m Your dad. 

But I say it, loudly and proudly wherever we go. Why does that get You off so much, Son?  It’s perverted and twisted, and I hate it so much. Like yesterday at the Waffle House, when I refused the menu and said, “I’ll let my hot Son order for both of U/us. He knows what’s best for His dumb ole dad.” Why does that turn You on? And why is it starting to turn me on? 

Breakfast at Waffle House” by rpavich is licensed under CC BY 2.0.
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Influencer (My perfect dad 36)

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.

People have started to recognize me in public—at the grocery store, at the gym, even in the drive-thru. I used to enjoy the attention, and there’s a tiny part of me that still does, I guess. But ever since Son found out, it’s not been the same. 

It started with just some short videos on Instagram of me doing work around the house. I didn’t even know Son was recording me doing chores, raking leaves, and working out in the garage. When I started gaining a following, He had me do other stuff on camera. Embarrassing stuff. The most popular video so far was of me dropping a birthday cake on the floor and then falling face first into it. It was staged, but Son said I did a good job making it look real. 

Birthday cake smashed on the ground
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