Daddy Blue Pt. 02

Unfortunately, the movie followed me right into my dreams. Before I know it, I'm in Gilda's room at Old Rich Guy's high-class villa. There's a racket of horns and shouting going on outside, so I rush to the window and see this big, noisy, raunchy parade going by. It's carnival, just like in the movie. And just like in the movie, shit is about to hit the proverbial fan. Don't ask me what. All I know is that, like Gilda, I have to get out of this stupid mansion and find Johnny.

In the next instant I'm picking my way through streets thick with drunken revelers, yelling and celebrating like it's their last night on earth. I wonder if this is what New Orleans is like. I also wonder how the hell am I ever going to find Johnny in this mayhem. And another fleeting thought: Where the hell is Gilda? And then miraculously I spot him on the far side of a huge plaza decked out with all manner of banners and flags. He's just standing there, cool as ice, amid all those swirling crowds glaring at me just like he did at Gilda. I have to admit that during the movie I never did get what a hot number like Gilda/Rita saw in a scowling lowlife punk like Johnny. But now I'm starting to get it because there is something damned sexy about an angry young man in fine threads. All of a sudden Johnny spits out his cigarette and takes off down a side street with me in hot pursuit. I follow him for blocks, but can never catch up because of the insane crowds. Several times I almost lose him, but each time he pauses, glances over his shoulder and gives me time to nearly catch up before taking off running again. Finally he comes to the doors of the shady casino and stops. This time when he glances over his shoulder, I am shocked to see it's not Johnny that I'd been chasing, but Trey.

Trey ducks into the casino and I follow him inside. The place is really humming, just like in the movie. I pick my way past gambling tables and roulette wheels, packed with lots of guys like Old Rich Guy smoking smoky cigars and throwing out wads of cash like it was going out of style, until finally I see Trey again ducking out a side door. The door opens in a narrow hallway dimly-lit and lined with other doors. I'm starting to get pretty frustrated; in fact, I'm starting to get downright mad. Where the heck is Johnny/Trey, and why all the games? I call out his name and then, as if on cue, the last door down the hall clicks open.

I slip inside the door and gasp.

"What the hell!"

Trey is standing at the foot of a big ornate bed, his eyes glued on Gilda who is laid out across the silky sheets like a Christmas turkey. Her long satin robe is hanging open, and reveals she is totally fucking naked underneath. She gives me a dismissive look as if to say, Get a load of this, you fool, then slithers off the bed and proceeds to drape herself all over Trey. And worse, Trey is clearly loving it, his greedy hands sliding all over her ripe naked body. And I'm just standing there like a dumb kid, not knowing what to do.

Neither one of them is in the mood for foreplay, and so when Trey pushes her robe off her shoulders, she just laughs and lets the flimsy thing drop the floor, revealing her long, satiny-smooth body. I release another gasp when Trey buries his face in her neck and shoulder, practically devouring her. I am both terrified and turned on—not a little bit because part of my lust is for her too, and not just this steamy tableaux. Of course Trey cannot care less how turned on I am because he only has eyes for slinky, sexy Gilda. Even as his lips trail down to her perky perfect breasts, she starts undressing him, pushing his own clothes off so fast that it seems as if she's doing it by magic. The thought occurs to me that she must be some kind of witch. How else to explain that no man can resist her?

Trey is naked now, his fine lean body burnished and tan next to hers. He just keeps going after her. He can't get enough of her. He pushes her back onto the bed, readying to mount her. I am feeling overwhelmed, on the verge of panic, unable to talk or breathe. And then, incredibly, Trey looks at me, leeringly, hungrily, like a wild animal, then he plunges into her, making her cry out. I have to get out of here. I turn to escape, but a tall man in a white suit blocks my way. It is Old Rich Guy, standing between me and the door.

"Get out of my way, old man!" I yell, trying to get past him, but he grabs and holds me with strong hard arms. I look at him again and realize it is Dad dressed in Old Rich Guy's gangster suit.

"Dad," I say, "let me go. I have to get out of here!"

"No, Charlie. You need to see this. It's the only way you'll ever get this punk out of your system."

"No, Dad. Please don't make me watch."

"You got to, Charlie. You gotta wake up out of this trance."

"No, Daddy, please!"

"Wake up, Charlie. Time to wake up now."

I opened my eyes and saw Dad shaking me. I sat up and looked around. The TV was still going, but some other movie was playing.

"What time is it?" I asked, trying to clear the cobwebs out of my brain.

"Two o'clock and change. You need to get to bed, Charlie boy."

"Damn," I said. "That was some dream."

Dad looked at me with a smirk. "So I gathered, partner. You were really babbling when I first came down. Who is Old Rich Guy?"

"I said that? Jeez, that was some dream. Did I happen to say anything else?"

"There was one name I made out: Trey. You know I was never crazy about that boy, Charlie. Don't tell me you're seeing him again."

"No, Dad, I'm definitely not seeing Trey. That's over and done with."

"Good. Now get yourself to bed."

"Dad, wait," I said, following after him as he started to climb the stairs. "Can I ask you a question before you go up . . . just one question and that's all."

He turned to face me. "Charlie, you can ask me anything. You know that."

"Are you . . . are you really . . . going to make me stay at A&M if I don't want to?"

Dad shook his head and gave me a serious look. "You're getting too big for me to make you do anything you don't want to do, Charlie. But I thought we agreed to give it to the end of the school year before we decided anything like that."

"You decided, Dad."

"Fine, Charlie. We'll talk about it before you go back. But not tonight."

I did go to bed, but kept tossing and turning until a little past six when I heard Dad moving around down the hall getting ready for work. It was eating me up that I had come so close to asking him about the tape, and then had totally chickened out at the last minute. And then in the twinkling of an eye, I had an idea. Back before I'd left, Dad and I usually had a quick breakfast together, allowing us to exchange a few words before we went off to school and work. I jumped up and dashed down to the kitchen.

Ten minutes later Dad came downstairs, dressed in his uniform and ready for work. He was surprised to find me at the table with a bowl of cereal laid out for me and some toast and bacon for him, with his usual cup of steaming hot black coffee.

"What's this, Charlie?"

"Breakfast, Dad. Like we used to do—remember?"

"I'd pretty much gotten out of the habit of that. Now I usually just grab a breakfast roll on my way into the station house."

"I know, but I thought we could do this today, just for the hell of it. Sit down. It's all ready."

"OK, Charlie," he said, sitting down and once again giving me one of those patented Dad looks. "But I don't know how you can keep from keeling over. You were up mighty damned late."

"I'll take a nap later. Try the bacon. I may have overcooked it a bit."

He stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth and smiled. "Delish. Tastes like homemade." He took a sip of his coffee and then cut his eyes at me again.

"So, Charlie boy. No knock on this wonderful breakfast, but I get the impression you still got something on your mind. Better spit it out, boy. In exactly five minutes I'm gonna have to head out that door."

"I can't believe how well you know me," I said ruefully. "I only wish I could say the same about you, Dad."

"Oh, well, now there's a cryptic comment. What's that supposed to mean, son?"

Suddenly I was feeling very uncomfortable and having a hard time even looking at him. And when I did, all I could feel were their piercing emerald green eyes boring into me.

"For Pete's sake, Charlie. I don't have time for this." He stood up and took another quick swig of his coffee. He gave me an exasperated look. Not only could I not look at him, I couldn't talk.

"OK then, I can see we really are going to have a serious talk. This isn't like you, Charlie. You don't hold back. Maybe tonight I can . . . no, goddammit. I'm working the late shift on my second job. There's no telling when I'll be gettin' in. I guess the talk will have to wait, but count on it, kiddo, it's coming. And when it does, I'll be expectin' to hear some answers."

He gave me one last irritated look and strode out. I just sat there stunned. The fact is I really had been ready to spring the whole thing on him, to confess I'd stole the tape and watched it, and then confront him over whether he really was gay or not. I thought I was ready to do it all, right up until the moment I realized my true motives for asking: I wanted my dad to be gay. No, I needed him to be gay, and not because I feared he was some kind of asshole. Sitting there, peering into those endlessly green eyes, feeling them draw me in like naked emerald pools, I realized I was falling into some kind of deep lust/longing for my dad. The feelings I had for him were powerful and wrong, the kind of feelings no son should ever have for his father.

Well, having fucked that up royally, I was now way too tired to think my way out of it. I fled upstairs to my old room where my nice, warm, safe bed was waiting. I crawled under the covers was out like a light within minutes, and slept soundly until a little after noon when I was abruptly wakened by someone pounding on the front door and madly clicking the doorbell.

To my shock it was Trey, showing up for a second day on my dad's doorstep.

"Trey, what are you doing here? After what you said yesterday, I never expected to see you again."

Trey shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. "Hey, never say never—right? Look, Charlie, I know what I said and I guess I meant it at the time. But let's face it, you threw me for a loop with that call yesterday morning, and the thing is, I didn't expect to ever hear from you again either. Don't you recall? At New Year's we said goodbye; that was supposed to be it. And yet there you were on the phone—complicating my life to hell as usual. Look, can I come inside?"

I stood aside and let him in, but I was having some decidedly uncomfortable feelings about it. Most likely it had to do with the fact that I'd just told my dad things were over and done with between me and Trey. And I didn't like to lie to my dad.

"You know, I may not have shown it very well yesterday, Charlie, but I've missed you . . . a lot. Just seeing you, that brought back a lot of memories. Good memories."

"I've missed you too, Trey, but I'm not so sure this is a good idea. I think maybe you had it right when you said we should just let it go and move on."

"Do you know what this sounds like: every conversation we ever had. You always had one view and I had another. You'd want to go somewhere, do something, and I'd always want to do the exact opposite. Damn, we didn't even like the same kind of food. I don't know how the hell we ever got together."

"I do," I confessed. "I saw you at a party and I liked what I saw, so I went after you. I didn't even care that my friends were all saying you were straight and strictly out-of-reach. I just thought you were the most incredible guy I'd ever seen."

"Yeah? See, even that was opposite. I just thought you were some kind of crazy-ass gay motherfucka, but in a totally cool kind of way. That's why when you called me up a few days later and suggested we hang out, I said, Hell, why not? Nah, I didn't think we'd ever, you know, get sexual, but I really did want to see you again. And so I did."

Trey grabbed me and pulled me to him, and despite my reservations, I held onto him too. He kissed me.

"I mean it, Trey," I said, trying to separate from him but feeling myself starting to respond to his warm embrace. "Maybe this isn't such a hot idea."

"Feels hot to me," he crooned. "Hey, remember how we fought? Dammit, we were always fighting about something, but then we'd get over it and couldn't even recall what the fight was about."

"Yeah, and then we'd fuck like rabbits."

"But do you know what I figured out, Charlie? Fighting with you wasn't really like fighting at all. It was just part of the game. We were always playing these little games, you and me. We'd joke and goad each other, and then somebody would get mad, and then we'd fight, and then we'd makeup and fuck, and then we'd do it all over again."

Trey pulled me really close and kissed me deep, his tongue sweet and probing, filling me up, making we forget whatever doubts I'd had. He was right, of course. We were always arguing about something or other, but nobody ever really got all that mad. And the next thing I knew, somebody was nudging somebody, and somebody was kissing back—just like now—and all I could think about was getting to his cock.

Already I was unbuttoning his work shirt and he was pulling off my t-shirt. In-between we were touching and feeling and caressing, just in that way we knew each other liked, and soon I had forgotten even the thoughts I had that morning, about certain powerful feelings I was having for my dad.

Without my t-shirt I was now only dressed in a pair of boxer briefs. Trey dropped down and flicked my underwear off and began tonguing my cock, making it feel fantastic. I could recall a time when he was a lousy cocksucker, that is, when he sucked cock at all. Now he was damned near as good at it as I was. I groaned and held his head. OK, Rita/Gilda, I said to myself, try taking him away from me now.

Trey got to his feet and drew me back into a kiss. "Let's up upstairs," he said, motioning toward my bedroom. I wasn't about to object. At the top of the stairs we turned in the direction of my room, but then he stopped.

"Hey, I got an idea. Let's go in there." He nodded in the direction of my dad's master bedroom. I flinched.

"No, Trey. That's not a good idea."

"Yeah, you always said that. I must've come here a dozen times last year when we were alone in the house, and not once would you let me go into Big Daddy's sacred room."

"I told you why. Dad keeps his room like a monk, not a damn thing is out of place in there. I think they train them to do that in the marines. I swear if we went in there, he'd know it."

"Yeah, that's what you always said. But so what, Charlie? You're nineteen fucking years old now. When are you gonna stop worrying what Daddy's gonna say all the time? So what if he comes home and says who's been monkeying around with my goddamn pencil eraser. You just say you went in there to find a comb or something. There. Problem solved. Case closed."

And with that Trey pulled away from me and strode right into Dad's bedroom. I swallowed hard and quickly followed him. Trey paused just inside and looked all around the room. It was like he was looking for something in particular. There really wasn't much to see. Though Dad's room was huge, twice the size of mine, there was really nothing very special about it. Except for the king-sized bed, the furnishings were all pretty modest and spare, basic dark wood items to match the cherrywood paneling.

Trey walked around, looked at the photos on the dresser and chest, inspected the pictures on the wall, glanced in the oversized closet and then looked at me.

"Damn, ain't nothing much to it, is there?"

"I told you. What did you expect?"

"I don't know. Somethin' more than this. I thought there would be medals or trophies or somethin'. You know. The few times he did talk to me, he made it clear he didn't think I was anywhere near good enough for you."

"And I told you, Trey, you shouldn't take it personally. He talked to every guy I brought around here like that."

"Maybe so, but it was hard not to take it personally. He talked like he was God and I was dirt under his feet. And the few times you did bring me around when he was here, he would watch me like a fucking hawk. It gave me the creeps."

I walked up to Trey and put my arms around him. "Well, he's not here now, soo why are we wasting time talking about him when we could be in my room sweating up the sheets?"

We kissed long and deep. I ran my hands up and down Trey's wonderfully firm torso and then down to his fine hard ass. Even through his jeans, his glutes felt great. Not to be outdone, Trey passed his hands over my body as well, finally pushing his hands down and into the waistband of my shorts, and pinching my ass. I grabbed him and attempted to pull him toward my room.

"No wait, babe," he said, stopping at the door. "Let's do it here."

"You can't be serious. Trey, that is not a good idea."

Trey laughed. "Since when do you care if it's a good idea? You're the one who wanted to fuck in a gazebo in a park downtown and right next to the monkeys in the zoo."

He started guiding me back into the room. I could feel his hands on my back, my hips, my butt and my crotch. Why is it whenever this guy touched me, I responded? I tried to keep my head.

"No, Trey, listen. I don't have a good feeling about this."

"Then what's this about?" said Trey, squeezing my cock that was already standing out like a steel pole trapped inside my underwear. This time, he pushed my briefs all the way down and off. And standing there completely naked and exposed inside my daddy's room, I could not deny feeling a sudden intense sexual charge, and Trey could see it too.

"You know, Charley, I never met anybody like you. Sometimes, you get a look, almost like a caged panther, and then I know I can't resist you."

Trey reached down and began removing his jeans and I could see he was just as turned on as I was. Even before he had his boxers all the way off, I was on my knees in front of him, sniffing the delicious scent of his crotch, and pulling his beautiful long brown cock into my mouth.

Trey laughed a little, then hissed and purred, letting me know just how much he relished the delicious sensations I was laying on his manrod. Trey's meat, already hard, firmed up even more, and filled my mouth and throat to capacity. I drew back a bit, enough to give my tongue some breathing room, and began swishing it all around his cockhead, massaging and manipulating it, coaxing out the generous load of precum I knew was inside. In mere seconds, I felt his juices begin to flow, staining my tongue with their musky milky taste.

"Fuck yeah, babe. That's it. Eat my dick."

Trey began a slow even thrusting into my mouth. I slowed down my sucking to allow him to gently fuck my throat, enjoying the powerful sensation of his cockhead as it invaded and penetrated me, filling me with all manner of heated thrills. As he did this, I ran my fingers up his thighs and onto his wonderfully firm butt, feeling the muscle of the cheeks hot at work under his velvety skin.

Slowly but surely Trey was going deeper, his long thick cock pushing at the boundaries of my maw. I relaxed my throat and leaned into him, welcoming this ultimate intrusion, knowing that deep swallowing had a way of exciting his lust like nothing else. Just from his breathing I could sense the heat engine of his body revving up. But then after only a few minutes of this, Trey backed off and pulled out.