This story contains graphic descriptions of consensual adult male to male gay sex. If this topic offends you, please leave this site.
Copyright 2010. Oregon Bear. Oregonbear9@gmail.com
Coming Out To Dad
I held him close that night, feeling his sobs deep in my chest, his tears soaking into my shirt. All that pain inside of him was finally letting loose, finally turning into the wetness that ran down his cheeks, into his beard and onto me.
I'd feared for the worst, when he left this morning. He was off to see his dad, to finally tell him his son was gay. Mike had been on pins and needles for a couple of weeks. He'd wanted to be honest with his family about who he was, who he really was. And, he'd wanted to tell them about me. No, I wasn't just his housemate; I was his lover, his life partner. He was proud of that. He wanted to let the whole world know.
But, I knew that rejection was a hard thing. It had been with me, when I'd come out to my folks a couple of years ago. They thought I was possessed by the devil, that I'd burn in hell forever for my "sins", and that I was no longer their son. They tried to get to go to one of those fundamentalist camps, where I could be "cured". My dad said I was a disgrace to the family name. Still, I told them because I wanted them to know, I wanted them to know that so very important part of me.
My mom and I have gotten together a few times since then, and I think she can find some acceptance in her heart for who I am, who I really am. She says it's really hard on my dad. He keeps it bottled inside of him, but she knows it eats at him, the silence and the shunning of me, his son. He still thinks being gay is against the word of God. And, I'm not going to argue theology with them. But, how can a loving God decree that some of God's children aren't worthy of love, aren't worthy of being accepted and embraced for who they really are, deep inside?
And, Mom is coming around, a bit. She's been doing some reading on her own, and talking to some friends. She goes to a different church now, a church that takes a more enlightened view of the world, and homosexuality. She sent me a sweet birthday card last week, letting me know that Dad urged her to send me a card, and spoke my name. It's a start, and I'm pretty patient. And, I know they both love me.
Mike wanted his dad's blessing, to be able to tell him how happy he was, that he'd met the partner of his dreams, the person he wanted to share the rest of his life with. It was something he'd wanted to share in his life, ever since he was growing up, becoming a man. It was what any son wants to do, to share his life and his lover with his family, to be loved and to give love.
We'd talked a lot about Mike and his dad. They hadn't been close when Mike was growing up. His dad worked a lot, and didn't talk much when he got home. They went fishing together, sometimes, and his dad would go to Mike's baseball games when he was in Little League. But when Mike made the high school team and was the star pitcher, his dad rarely made a game. The fishing trips didn't happen as much as Mike had wanted.
Mike had started to realize he was gay when he was in high school. All the locker room stories about having sex with girls just didn't appeal to him, and he found himself fantasizing about some of the other guys on the team. He dated a bit, because that's what guys did in high school, but his first couple of times trying to have sex were disasters for him.
Well, they were disasters for me, too. I was pretty mixed up myself when I was in high school. No one in my family told me what to expect when I was growing up and hair was sprouting all over and I started having wet dreams, and began to jack off. It felt really good, but I thought I was becoming the biggest sinner around, what with wanting to jack off all the time and feeling horny and awkward all at the same time.
Mike and I would laugh and talk late into the night about all the embarrassing moments and strange thoughts we'd had as teenagers. Other guys had lots of locker room stories and bragged about how great they were in bed. Neither of our dads would talk to us about sex, and I sure wasn't going to be asking dad to explain to me how a guy was to make love to a gal, or why I often felt horny when I saw a good looking man with his shirt off.
Mike wanted to be upfront with his dad, to let him know who he really was and to let him know he was finally so happy. He's an upfront guy, and has always let me know where he stood and how he felt about our relationship. He wasn't a guy to sleep around, and when we first met, he took it real slow with me, not wanting to jump into bed right away. I wanted that too, in a man, and Mike and I took it slow.
And, after a month of some real nice dates, and enjoying the things that meant so much to each of us, the hikes, the bike rides across town and along the river, and sharing a couple of concerts with each other, we were both ready to crank it up a few notches, and see how were together, as lovers.
He was upfront about it all with me. I remember sitting out on the deck of the neighborhood caf‚, just after a leisurely Saturday breakfast. We were talking politics and art, and having some serious discussions. I remember him pausing a bit, taking the final sip of his cappuccino, watching the foam stick to his moustache, and taking a big breath.
"Tim, there's something I need to talk about, and I really can't wait any longer," he said.
The rest of the breakfast crowd had scattered, but we'd been lost in our conversation for quite a while and had the back part of the deck to ourselves.
"I want to try the next level with you, to be, well, intimate," Mike said.
He blushed a bit, and I remember him looking so handsome, with some redness to his cheeks, contrasting with his neatly trimmed beard. He tugged on his ear lobe, a sure sign he was nervous, and I chuckled.
"Oh, the big topic, " I said, grinning from ear to ear.
I'd wanted to get him in bed ever since I'd met him, yet I knew it was important to take it slow, to move along only when each of us were comfortable. We'd both been pretty hurt by other guys, and I think I'd moved too fast, or didn't really know the guy. Mike had been through a few breakups, too, and he'd been out of the dating scene for about a year before we met. So, for Mike to bring it up now was a big step for him. I knew he'd been giving it some serious thought.
"Yeah, the big topic," Mike said. "I think I'm ready, and I know I can trust you. I'm just scared. Scared of getting hurt again."
"I know. Me, too," I said. "I'm real vulnerable when I love someone and try to show it every way I can, and then when someone stomps on me and pulls the rug out from under me, I feel like a real idiot."
We'd both had our blood tested, and neither one of us had slept with anyone else for quite a while. Still, I hadn't gone out and bought any condoms. That would just tempt me and I'd find myself in bed with Mike before I was ready, and probably before he was ready, too. He was too special to me to just give in to lust, and not see that being sexual with each other was really just one part of who we were to each other. We needed to not have the little head doing the thinking for the big head. There was too much at stake, for both of us, and I think we both knew it.
I'd had a good friend die of AIDS, and Mike had his share of friends who got careless and didn't take precautions. Neither one of us wanted to bring that misery into our lives, not with someone we loved.
So, we talked for another hour, getting some more coffee and feeling the warmth of the morning sun on our shoulders, as we talked about our relationship and what we wanted in a family. It was such a comfortable conversation, with Mike eager to open his heart and share with me his heartfelt desires and needs, how he wanted our relationship to be. And, I opened up too, carrying our conversation to a lever so much deeper than where we'd been, just an hour earlier.
I felt so relieved. Here was a man I could open up too, and share my heart, and put my fears and worries out on the table. And, he responded with love and respect. And trust. Trust. Here was a man I really could trust, not just with my emotions, and my fears, but also with my body. Making love would really be special, with a lover you could trust.
We walked down to the drug store, buying a pretty big supply of condoms. We were laughing and giggling, picking out colored ones and ones with flavor. We got pretty wild, and the clerk who checked us out, he was trying to hold it together. He gave us a big thumbs up as we grabbed the pretty good sized bag and headed for the door.
That afternoon, we took it slow. No one got their shirt torn, or their underwear ripped off. We were both pretty excited, and started laughing again at the strawberry condoms and the ones that glowed in the dark. It didn't take us long to get naked, but Mike had to do a striptease for me, putting on some disco music and dancing around the room, flashing his butt and slowly stripping off his boxers. I was laughing so hard I forgot we were going to be doing it for the first time.
I'd always been nervous with guys, afraid they would think my cock was too small or too skinny, or that my chest was too skinny, or that I had too much hair or not enough. I guess that was a leftover from high school, when I'd try to be the macho lover for the few gals I had the courage to ask out, and see if I could "score", so that I'd have my own boastful story in the locker room.
But, not with Mike. He took his time, enjoying himself as his fingers, and his lips, explored every inch of me. And, he helped me enjoy his body, taking my hand and showing my how he loved his nipples pinched, how he liked his balls cupped, how he liked to have his cock gripped and jacked a bit. He took me slowly into his mouth, pushing down my foreskin, slowly, ever so slowly savoring the contours of my cockhead, gently sucking out the bit of precum that oozed out of my piss slit, his beard soft against the silky skin of my cock and the fur of my balls.
It took me a while to cum, but Mike was a patient man. Once, I lost my erection, just because I was so excited and so nervous. Mike simply held me next to him, his fingers slowly playing with my balls and then up to my nipples, lighting my fire again, until I was relaxed, and hard. When I came, I gripped his shoulders hard, crying out, gasping his name as he took my seed deep into his throat, his finger buried in my hole, bringing my prostate to new heights of delight.
I'd never had a lover who took his time with me, waiting for me to be ready, to climb to the very top of where he could bring me. I'd never been with anyone I could trust, really trust, like Mike.
And, so we spent the afternoon together, ordering pizza, and surprising the pizza man when we both answered the door in the nude, a bit of cum still dripping from Mike's cock, and on his chest. I'm sure the place reeked like sex, and I didn't care. I wanted to shout to the rooftops that we were lovers, and that Mike was everything I could ask for in a man.
So, ever since, we've been together. Mike liked my apartment, so he moved in with me, and we got serious in meeting each other's friends, and living life as a couple. Oh, the sex was great and it still is. But, there is so much more. There's the quiet time in the morning, sipping our coffee and reading the paper. There's taking turns cooking dinner and doing the dishes, and giving each other a neck rub after a rough day at work.
There's the little notes in my lunch, or the quick little e-mail to Mike at work, asking how his day is going. There's Mike showing up at work at the end of the day, when it's pouring rain outside, and I forgot my umbrella. He brought a spare and we walk home together, splashing in the puddles and singing an old Broadway song.
I hold Mike close tonight, letting his tears wash some of the pain away, giving him time, giving him space to breathe, to sort it all out.
"Your dad probably needs some more time with all this," I whisper, feeling Mike's head nod against my chest, his breath wracked with a sob.
"He loves you. He just doesn't know how to show it."
"I know. I know he loves me. He'll come around. I just need to give him some space, to come to grips with what I've told him," Mike said. "He's probably known for a long time, probably about as long as I've known. But, when your church and what you learned from your own dad is against that, it's hard to sort all that out. Lord knows it's taken me a long time."
We held each other, for a long time. Mike hugged me hard and choked down a few sobs, the tears flowing again down his face, soaking our shirt fronts.
"I love you, Mike," I whispered.
"I know. And I love you," Mike replied. "And I always will."
Copyright 2010. Oregon Bear.