I sat at the kitchen counter and served myself some cereal. Not the good kind, but the high-fibre cardboard Mum grabs from the wholefood grocer.
Dad was stomping down the stairs.
"Does anyone know where my keys are?" His rough voice gave him away. He rounded the corner tucking his white shirt into his grey trousers. His large hands plunged the last piece of fabric under his waistband. With a zip, his red briefs vanished from sight. Dad has always had a bit of gut, but he kept his thick arms and legs in shape. "Softly round" could also describe his personality. His short brown hair was a mess this morning. Rough stubble indicated he'd forgotten to shave. Moving to the coat rack, he dug into the pocket of his favourite varsity jacket. From it he conjoured three dangling keys and a weathered pineapple keychain and disappeared out the door.
My eyes are not as steely as dad's, and I had inherited mum's light hair. I was already 19. I had moved out of home 2 years ago to live abroad. A few immature financial decisions and I marched myself back into my parents' house. I grew up privileged. Dad works as a school teacher and Mum is a lawyer. Despite being close, I hadn't mustered the courage to come out to Dad.
It was 1:15AM when I heard soft footsteps on the hallway floorboards. I waited for the steps to hit the stairway before opening my bedroom door and peering out into the dark.
Dad was usually a snoring mountain, but tonight his wool socks tapped down the stairs to the living room. I rush out to the railing and looked down on the bottom floor. I could make out a stretched hand grabbing my father's blue parka. The silhouette of his large frame aparated from the light of the street lamps. The shadow disappeared with the closing door. This wasn’t the first time. The late-night departures had become a regular, unsettling pattern. Tonight, I'd decided was the night. I grabbed my worn-out Nikes, left the house and followed my dad down the deserted street. The air was thick with the scent of damp pavement. The distant hum of late-night travellers broke the silence of the night.
I trailed behind him at a distance. His blue parka was recognisable even at night. Dad turned a corner, disappearing into the dim glow of a small, nearby park. At the park’s edge stood a dingy public restroom. A single, flickering streetlight illuminated its brick facade.
This was it? A late-night rendezvous in a public bathroom?
I hesitated. I could feel a knot of confusion tightening in my stomach. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this. I sat on a bench shaded from sight by a large tree. A shyness came over Dad's face as he checked his surroundings one last time. He adjusted his waistband. I could see the shape of his hard cock through his trousers as he entered the restroom.
I waited a good 10 minutes for Dad to emerge, but he never did. I stood up and crept to the entrance. With three deep breaths, I burst into the restroom. It was spacious. Moonlight draped in from a high row of narrow windows exposing a long sink, a trough, and two stalls. The door to the furthest cubical displayed the red occupied sign.
The smell of piss and stale semen overpowered the faint disinfectant. My eyes scanned the room. There was noone else in sight. I entered the open booth and locked the door behind me. Graffiti covered the wall adjoining the two stalls. Crude illustrations and text adorned its surface. Simple arrows pointed to a hole the size of a jelly donut. It's edges were sanded smooth. Two words repeated around the gloryhole. Suckers side, I read to myself in silence.
I didn't get a chance to absorb my surroundings before a cock emerged. Precum glistened at its tip.
I checked beneath me before kneeling down on the cold floor. Further into the hole, I spotted tufts of brown pubic hair. A peek of red briefs propped up two hairy balls beneath the shaft. Dad's cock was shorter than mine. His dick maxed out at 6.5", but his straight shape and girth gave it a handsome appearance. His pole looked wider from side to side. Two veins ran down to the base. I didn't know Dad was circumcised. His glans were completely exposed, with a plump, red knob contrasting his usual fair skin.
"Everything okay, man?" Dad's whisper startled me.
I pressed my lips to his cock. His new silence told me I had answered his question. I wrapped my lips and tongue around his bulbous head. The soft skin of his cock felt exciting and comforting in my mouth. His dick tasted salty and gave off a musky aroma. It was a mix of familiar sweat and residual cologne I'd learnt to associate with Dad.
I explored every inch of his dick with my tongue. I worked his staff until a drop of precum formed on his slit. With a flick of my tongue, I savoured its neutral taste. My lips parted further, wrapping firm around his cock and forming a tight seal. With a breath, I began working down the entire length of his member. Starting from the base, up the shaft, over the glans, right to the tip and back again. I could hear his subdued moaning each time his tip prodded the back of my mouth.
His cock began to swell even further. His glans engorged, and hard immense throbs told me he was close. I increased my pace. He pushed his hips firm against the stall wall. His pulsating cock offered more resistance as I took it down to my throat. Dad's breathing accelerated, and I could feel his dick shuddering as his legs buckled.
Two crisp warning knocks broke the silence. I ignored the warning. With a suppressed moan, his cock exploded against my tonsils. His hot liquid filled my mouth. I attempted to swallow without coughing. The taste of his cum was sweet on the tongue, and a saltiness lingered in my mouth afterwards. I kept pace with my sucking as he convulsed from the sensitivity. He withdrew his cock through the hole.
Dad waited there for a minute to catch his breath. I caught mine too. Through the gloryhole, I watched as he tucked his leaking cock into his red briefs, and pulled up his pants.
"Thanks. You're a champ," he whispered. I heard the zip of trousers, and rush of air from the cubical door swinging open. My heart was pounding. My cock was throbbing with the same intensity.
I waited a few minutes before exiting the stall and heading home. I snuck back into the house. Dad had hung up his parka by the front door. I crept up the stairs and found Dad's red undies on the laundry basket. I took them back to my room and lay on my bed. With both hands, I held my father's undies to my face and breathed in that familiar smell. I didn't take long for me to cum remembering the taste of his load.
A few months had passed since that night. I served myself a bowl of cereal at the kitchen counter. The good kind this time. I'd been buying my own from now on.
"I've misplaced my keys again," Dad's gruff voice preceded his appearance.
"They're in your green jacket," I returned.
He reached into his green duffle and out popped the old pineapple keychain and three keys.
"Ahhh, how do you know every morning?"
I shrugged and smiled.
"Stay out of of trouble, champ," Dad tussled my hair before disappearing out the door for work.
