Date: Mon, 27 Sep 2010 13:29:14 -0400
From: Z McGuire <zanemcguire@hotmail.com>
Subject: Discovering Nick - Part 4 of 6

Discovering Nick - Part 4 of 6
By Zane McGuire
zanemcguire@hotmail.com

UPDATE: Do you want to read the archive of ALL of my hot stories and get a
sneak peek at new chapters before they post on Nifty? Want to find out what
new stories are in the works and make suggestions for upcoming plots?  Join
the Erotic Fiction of Zane McGuire group at Google by joining here:

http://groups.google.com/group/zanemcguire

Now, back to the hot action...


By the following Wednesday, I'd grown tired of waiting for Nick to return
my calls.  I'd left him at least twelve voicemails, imploring him to call
me back so we could talk things out.  I'd sent easily as many emails as
well.  By this point, I had worked through most of my nerves and felt
confident about what I wanted... no, NEEDED, to say to my son.

With that in mind, I left a note for the twins saying I had business to
take care of in town and made the long trip to Nick's school.  I'd left
early in the afternoon and travelled by car, so I arrived at the treelined
campus about six-thirty that evening.

I was surprised to find butterflies in my stomach as I approached his dorm
building.  Although I'd gone over it and over it in my mind, I was still
nervous about confronting my son about what was going on between us... even
if he didn't know it WAS between us.

A few minutes later, I was standing outside the door to Nick's small dorm
room.  The hallway was dark, the lone light fixture seemed to be
permanently broken and assorted beer cans and junk food bags lined the
corridor.  There was the faint smell of marijuana in the air and someone
down the hall was playing loud music.  About what you'd expect from a men's
dorm.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I knocked on the door.  I heard
shuffling from inside, but no response.  I waited a few minutes and tapped
again.  This time, I heard someone approach.

The door opened and I saw the familiar face of "Hocake," Nick's roommate.
"Hello, Dwayne," I said warmly.  "Is my son home?"

He smiled and pulled an earbud loose.  "Hey, Mr. Lawson!  Long time no see,
man, come on in.  What is this, spot check?"

I laughed as I entered the room.  It was surprisingly neat.  Nick had
always told me "Hocake" was a slob, and the last time I was here, it looked
like a tornado had landed.  "I see you guys have straightened up a bit."

"Yeah, Nick's been OCD this week about cleaning and shit... uh... I mean
stuff.  Dude... he even scrubbed the toilets... NOBODY does that."  Hocake
handed me a foldout chair and sat on the bed.  "Was he expecting you?  He
didn't say..."

"No, no, I was in town for work and my cell phone died," I lied, "so I
wasn't able to call ahead.  Just thought I'd drop in for a minute or two."

"Cool, cool..."

"Is he, uh... still in class at this hour?"

"Nah, he's just down at the laundromat.  He'll be back in a few minutes."

"Good."

We sat in awkward silence, the only noise the slight buzzing coming from
Hocake's dangling earbud and the distant bass of the guy down the hall.

"So, uh... can I get you a drink?  We've got water and Gatorade in the
fridge, if you want."

"Water's good," I said, eager to find something to occupy even a few
moments of his time.  He grabbed the water and handed it to me, remaining
standing.

"Did you and Nick have a fight or something?"

I took a sip from the water and avoided his gaze.  "Excuse me?"

"Sorry, don't mean to pry, it's just... he's been all moody and bitchy and
whatnot since he got back on Sunday.  I thought maybe you guys had a fight
or something."

"No, no, nothing like that."  He continued to stare at me, expecting a
further explanation.  "It's, uh, kind of personal, Dwayne."

He nodded.  "Oh, okay, got it.  Sorry, sometimes I am just too nosy for my
own good."

Just then, I heard the sound of a key in the door and Nick entered,
carrying a laundry bag.  "Place was packed, Ho, I could only get one
machine and... Dad!"

"Hey Nick!" I went to embrace him, as we always did when we greeted each
other, but he quickly put the laundry bag between us.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Before I could speak, Hocake interjected.  "Pops was in town for work, just
thought he'd stop by."

"Is that right?" Nick said solemnly.

"Yes, son.  I'd like... I'd like to talk to you."  Nick exhaled and stood
silently for a moment.  I gave Hocake a quick glance and raised my
eyebrows.  "Dwayne, I'm really sorry to ask you this, but..."

"No problemo, Papasan," he said, dodging between us.  "I'll vacate the
premises.  Peace."

"Thanks Dwayne," I called out after him as he closed the door behind him,
leaving us standing alone in the cramped room.  "Nick..."

"I wish you hadn't come," he said quietly.  "I'm still not ready to talk to
you."

"And, ordinarily son, I'd respect that.  But what we have here is a very,
very out of the ordinary situation."

He dropped the laundry bag and sat down on the bad, placing his face in his
hands.  "Dad... I just feel so ashamed and embarrassed."

"I know son," I said, kneeling in front of him and placing a hand on his
knee.  "And that's exactly why I'm here.  I need you to give me a chance to
explain to you why you shouldn't be feeling that way."

"How can you SAY that," he whined.  "I mean... what you saw... what you
HEARD... Oh god!"

"Nick, just stop.  You need to understand something.  I know exactly what I
saw and I know exactly what I heard.  But that's okay..."

"Okay?  No!  It's... it's shameful and wrong and..."

"No, son, it's not."

He blinked at me.  "It's... not?"

I grinned. "No.  Now listen to me, okay?"

He nodded slightly.  "Okay."

I took a deep breath.  All the words that I'd practiced and memorized faded
from my mind.  Here we were.  I had to be a good father, I had to do what I
needed to do in order to make sure my son wasn't feeling tormented by these
feelings.  I had to ensure it wasn't eating him up inside the way they had
eaten me up.

"Here's the truth.  The whole truth.  I... I talked to your Uncle
Marshall. He told me... well... he told me that you had been dealing with
some... feelings... for a while now."

His eyes narrowed and his face got red.  "He TOLD you that?  Oh my god!
How COULD he?"

"Now listen, son.  He only told me because it was tearing me up inside not
being able to reach out to you and tell you it was okay.  You ran off
before I had a chance to fully explain why I was even there in the first
place.  So don't be mad at Uncle Marshall.  He loves you just as much as I
do."

I saw tears begin to well up in his blue eyes, and I knew I had to get to
the point and quick.

"Nick, the truth is... I was there the whole time.  In the bushes, I mean.
I was there when you texted me... I was there when you got out of the pool.
I was there when you... well... you know..."

"I don't understand... you were... watching me?"

"Not on purpose," I explained.  "Well... at least, not at first.  You see,
I never went to town that day.  I was just... I was going through something
and I needed some space and I got home early and when I approached the
pool, I saw you laying there and..."

He shook his head in confusion.  "And?  Why didn't you just say something
or tell me you were there?"

"Because..." I took a deep breath and gulped.  "Because I just wanted
to... watch you for a few minutes."

"Watch me?  I don't..."  Suddenly realization began to wash over his face.
"You mean... WATCH me?"

I nodded slightly.  "It was wrong, son, it was an invasion of your privacy
and I don't completely understand it myself, but I was there, you were
there and... I just... stood there."

"But you texted me... you told me I'd have at least an hour.  I never would
have even THOUGHT of doing... what I did... if I'd known you were standing
there!"

"I know.  That's... why things spiralled out of control.  Before I knew it,
you were out of the pool, grabbing the lotion and..."

"Oh my god."  He stood up and began pacing the room.  "All this time... all
this time I've been sitting here, feeling physically ill because I thought
I was the biggest pervert ever and... and... you're telling me you were
CHOOSING to watch!  You didn't accidentally come home at the wrong time,
you were there all along!"

"Yes," I said weakly.  "That's why I wanted to talk to you son.  I couldn't
have you agonizing over something that... well... you weren't guilty of."

He turned to face me, his face flushed red, this time from anger.  "And you
certainly got a show, didn't you, Dad?  You got more than you bargained
for.  I mean, I guess it would have all been fine, you would never have
said anything at all if I hadn't... if I hadn't said... the things I said."
The anger started to fade as the feelings of shame swept back in.  "Oh my
god... I can't believe you heard me say those things."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Nick.  How can I... How can I judge
YOU for saying the things you did when clearly I was sitting there watching
you... you know..."

"Jerkoff," he said sharply.  "I mean, hell, we're kinda past the point of
being prissy about it aren't we?"

"I... I guess so."

"I want to know something.  What does this mean, Dad?  Are you gay?  How
long have you been spying on me?  Since I was a kid?  Do you spy on the
twins, too?  Are you..."

"No!  No, no no!" I exclaimed, raising my hands.  "I promise you, son, I
have NEVER done anything inappropriate to you or the twins, EVER!  And up
until this past weekend, the idea of watching you do ANYTHING like that
just... well... it never even occurred to me!"

"Well then I'm thoroughly confused.  What changed?"

"I don't really know, Nick.  I can't explain it.  I guess... I guess it
started with you talking about that cockring."

He seemed perplexed.  "The cockring?  What..."

"I don't know!  I really don't! It's just... the idea of you wearing that
thing... and then seeing you in the kitchen, grabbing the lotion... and
then knowing you were upstairs, wearing it and..."  I gulped.  I knew I was
saying far more than I should.

To my complete surprise, Nick seemed to grin.  "Wow... what do you know?"

"What... what do you mean?"

"It worked."

"WHAT worked?"

He sighed and sat down on the bed, leaning back on his arms.  "God, I
just... I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but... I sort of can't believe
it actually worked..."

"Nick, I'm confused."

"Dad... I didn't set out with a plan or anything, but... when you found
that cockring and were asking me about it, something.... I don't know,
something just sort of lit up inside of me.  All I could think of after
that was how confused you were by it and how much it... Jeez, I guess it
turned me on."

"It did?"

"Yeah.  And later, when I saw you in the kitchen, all I could think of
was..."

"What?"

He averted his gaze.  "I guess I was just sort of... I almost asked you if
you wanted to come to my room so I could show you what the cockring looked
like on me... you know, since you were curious."

A silence fell between us.  The idea hung in the air like a bullet.  We had
unburdened ourselves; he had acknowledged his own secret, forbidden
desires, and so had I.  We had to decide where to go from here.  In my
head, I heard Marshall telling me to just drop it, reel it back in and just
move forward, never discussing it again.  And in my heart, I knew that was
probably the best thing to do.

But there was something electric in the air; I don't know if it was the
conversation or the fact that we were in Nick's dorm room or what, but... I
just couldn't help myself.

"I... I wish you had," I said plainly.

His eyes shot to meet my gaze.  "You do?"

"Yes," I acknowledged.  "Because, if we're being honest, right after you
left the kitchen that night, I ran to my bedroom and..."

A grin began to cross his face.  "And... what, Dad?"

"I... I just kept thinking about... you... and the cockring... and those
little nylon shorts you had on and... the lotion and..."

"And that made you... what?"

"It made me..." I gulped.  "Hard son.  It made me hard."  Speaking of
which, I felt a stirring in my pants and quickly shoved my hands in my
pockets.

"Wow," Nick said.  "And did you take it out?"

I looked at him.  "Of course not, I..."

He raised his eyebrows at me.

"Yes..." I admitted.  "Yes, Nick, I did."

"That's awesome," he whispered.  I watched as he slowly began to slide his
hand down toward his crotch.  "I wish I had known, too, Dad.  I could have
shown you my cockring, settled your curiosity and you could have... settled
mine."

"What... what are you curious about, son?"

"I've always wondered," he began, licking his soft lips and gently closing
his grasp around his package, "what you look like... you know... hard."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

We stared at each other across the room.  I felt my prick slowly start to
stretch in my briefs, and I withdrew my hand from my pocket.  As my son
watched, I slowly placed my hand over the rapidly growing bulge in my
pants.

"Oh man, Dad..." he said, his voice nearly a whisper.  "I've waited so long
for this."

"For what, Nick?"  I reached up to my blue cotton shirt and slowly began
unsnapping the buttons.  He watched as the thick fur of my chest began to
be exposed.

"To see you... like this..."  He grabbed his bulge full on.  "Do you... do
you want me to... take my clothes off?"

"If... if you want to, son... sure."

He stood, facing me.  There was about two feet between us as we both looked
each other up and down.  I continued to unbutton my shirt, and Nick reached
down and pulled his sweatshirt up over his shoulders, exposing his own
beautifully tanned hairy chest.

"Son... you are so beautiful..."

"So are you, Dad."

I let my shirt come loose and fall to the ground and then slowly began to
loosen my belt.  Nick pulled the drawstring on his sweatpants.

"Is this what you want to see, Nick?" I asked seductively as I began to
unsnap my pants.  "You want to see what your Dad's got hiding in his
pants?"

"Yes," he said breathlessly.  "I can't wait."  His sweatpants fell to the
floor and he stepped out of them, standing before me in tight white trunks.
His massive cock lay pressed beneath them, off to the side.

"I'll show it to you son."  I slowly slid the zipper down and let my own
pants fall to the floor, exposing my own full package.

We stood there for long minutes, father and son, standing nearly fully
naked before each other, rubbing our cocks beneath our shorts, each waiting
for the other to give a clue on how to proceed.  I watched him; he watched
me.  I licked my lips.  He licked his.  He stepped toward me.  I stepped
toward him.  He stepped toward me again.  I stepped toward him again.

We were now virtually pressed against each other, our swollen packages mere
inches away.  I could smell the minty taste of his breath against my face.
I felt his hands gingerly rest on my hips.  I placed mine on his.

Taking a deep breath, I whispered, "take them off for me, son..."  He
placed his fingers under the waistband of my briefs and slowly started to
pull them down.  As he did, he lowered himself to his knees.

My now fully erect cock burst forth from my briefs. The smell of soap and
sweat filled the air as my throbbing tool bounced obscenely before him.
Licking his lips, he gazed up at me...

TO BE CONTINUED...

Enjoying the story so far?  Drop me a line at zanemcguire@gmail.com and let
me know!

Still to come...

"Nick..." my voice cracked, "Are you... are you going to..."

With a sly smile, he reached up and wrapped his hand around my shaft.  I
felt a jolt of electricity go through me as his flesh made contact with
mine.  I resisted the urge to collapse in a heap and felt my mouth go dry.

"Stop me if you want to, Dad," he said as he opened his mouth wide and made
his way toward my cock.

"Oh god...." I moaned.