Date: Tue, 24 Jan 2017 23:15:43 -0600
From: Michael Smith <incstwrtr007@gmail.com>
Subject: Jake and Dad - Chapter 2

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This story, while a work of complete fiction, contains graphic sexual
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Author's Notes:

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This is a continuation of the "Jake and Dad" Series. To help understand the
story, please go back and read from Chapter 1!


Happy Reading Y'all!


Jake and Dad - Chapter 2


        I close my lips and take in a steady breath as I meet his eyes, the
same emerald green ones as my own. We look at each other for what seems
like forever but is really just a few seconds before he smiles. He holds
the bag in his hand and I stand still, really unsure of what to do, my eyes
still locked on his face. He's a bit different than what I was imagining
him to look like but I can tell that it's him. He smirks a bit and starts
to head towards me, one of his dimples flashing as his porcelain white
teeth shine behind his half smile. I'm frozen by the sight of it, really. I
haven't seen this man for nearly 10 years and yet, here he is, closing the
last few feet between us and it all sinks in. I feel my heart start to race
and my palms sweating slightly. I swallow hard as he takes the final step
to me and drops my suitcase, looking down at me with a big smile on his
face. I look up at him and before I know it, he's got me wrapped up in a
hug, his muscular arms holding me tightly, even constricting me a bit as he
pulls me against his broad chest.


        "Well, would you look at who made it home!" He jokes, squeezing me
just a little tighter, causing me to stand up on my tip toes, my shoes
barely clinging to the ground. He lets me go and I fall back to my feet,
surprised at how much taller he is than me. I'm 5'7, a few inches above
average for my age so I definitely get it from him. He had to be about 6'2,
maybe 6'3. I look up at him and he grabs my shoulder, squeezing it slightly
with his big hand.


        "I take it your flight was alright?" He reaches down and picks up
my dark blue suitcase again before raising an eyebrow at me. His voice took
me a little off guard, deeper than I was imagining it but soothing as
well. He also didn't have the Texan accent I was expecting him to have,
either. `He must have lost it from being up North all these years.' I think
to myself before giving him a nod, finally coming to my senses.


         "Y-yeah." I stutter slowly, giving him a weak smile as I fiddle
with the strap of my duffle bag that's thrown across my smooth chest. He
tilts his head slightly before giving me an understanding nod. He probably
knows that I'm nervous, even scared a little bit, too. I swallow hard and
look around as everybody else starts to grab their bags.


        "Why don't we get out of here, huh?" He asks, smiling down at me,
squeezing my shoulder where his hand still was.


        "That sounds good." I smile up at him, a bit wider than before, his
reassuring shoulder squeeze taking away a bit of the nervousness.


        "The truck is parked out in the garage." He lets his hand slide off
my shoulder as he turns around and starts to walk away from the baggage
claim. I quickly follow suit, matching my pace to his as we walk down the
front of the airport, past all the ticket booths and people saying
`goodbye' and `hello' to their family and friends. We walk alongside each
other for a few moments, past all the busy rush of people everywhere, and
then he slowly wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him again.


        "I'm glad you're here, Jake." He says, his deepish voice a little
softer than before. He turns us down a narrow corridor and down a set of
plain concrete stairs towards the underground parking garage. I look up at
him and meet his eyes again, causing him to smile fully. I can't help but
to smile back, feeling a surge of relief crash through my body as we smile
at each other.


        "Me too, Dad." I respond as we reach the garage, letting him guide
me down the rows of cars. We reach his truck and my eyebrows lower a little
bit in confusion as I stop and look up at him. "You don't live in the
actual city, do you?" I reach around grab the handle of my dufflebag,
pulling it over my head and carrying it by hand the last few feet to the
dusty, gray work truck.


        "No, I live about a half hour North of the city." He reaches into
the pocket of his jeans and fishes out the keys, pressing a button and
unlocking the doors. I open the door and place my bag on the seat before
getting in. I look over my shoulder and can't help but to watch as he picks
my suitcase up, his muscular arm flexing as he lifts it over the side of
the truck and places it into the bed with a dull thud. I turn around and
shut my door before grabbing my seat belt, pulling on it and clicking it
into the latch as he opens his door and climbs in. I look over and watch as
he slides the key into the ignition and turns it, the V8 engine of the
truck roaring to life.


        "Is it anything like Texas?" I ask as he pulls the gear shifter
down and backs the truck out of the parking spot. In Texas, half an hour is
about 30 miles in any direction and 30 miles away from a city means rolling
hills, flat grassy plains, and lots and lots of woods. This question causes
him to chuckle a bit and shake his head as he puts the truck into drive.


        "It's probably not what you're picturing." He looks over at me and
laughs a little bit at my naivety again. The engine rumbles as he applies
the gas and heads toward the exit. We break out onto the busy street full
of airport traffic, country music playing on the radio softly. I watch as
all the traffic rolls by before I feel the truck accelerating and pulling
into the street. I look over as we pull out, watching my father's hand and
arm expertly turn the wheel. I look at it for a moment, watching his arm
flexes slightly as he tugs on the wheel, causing the truck to shift
lanes. I close my eyes and shake my head a bit.


        `Did I just check my dad's arm out?' I think to myself as I open my
eyes and peer out of the darkly tinted window, the skyscrapers of Downtown
Chicago glistening in bright early afternoon sun. I turn back and look out
of the windshield as we merge with 3 other lanes of traffic, the trucks
tires howling against the cold, flat concrete as we accelerate to speed.


        "Do you ever go into the city then?" I ask slowly, looking over at
my dad, his arm fully outstretched, holding the top of the steering wheel
tightly. He was in good shape for his age, I had to admit. He was about 35
if I memory served me right. His shoulders were a little on the broad side,
taking up the whole width of the seat in the full-sized truck. The seat
belt curved nicely with the shape of his strong pecs, outlined even more by
his shirt with clung snugly to his chest and shoulders. He reaches up to
the dash with his hand, the short sleeves of his midnight blue shirt
tightening around his strong upper arm as he grabs a hat and pushes it on
top of his head, pulling it down a little low.


        "Sometimes." He replies, causing me to snap out of my daze. Was I
checking him out? No, I couldn't have been. I just haven't seen him for
over the last half of my life and it was just the reality setting in. He
moves the truck into the fast lane and speeds up before setting the cruise
control. "The head office for work is in the City so I have to go once
every two weeks or so." He leans back in his seat, letting his left foot
lay flat on the floorboard, hit left leg raising up as he relaxes into the
drive. "Why do you ask?"


        "I was just wondering." I shrug and look at the skyline slowly
disappearing into the mirror behind the sea of cars. I can't help but to
lean back my own seat, letting my head fall back against the bottom of
headrest. I close my eyes and let out a slow breath, feeling the exhaustion
of the travel time setting in slowly, the gentle hum of the engine almost
lulling me to sleep.




*****


        I feel the truck starting to slow down as we get off the
interstate. I sit up and stretch a bit, moaning softly as I do. I lean
forward and look around, a little confused.


        "How long was I out for?" I ask, my words slurring a bit as I wake
up from my light sleep. I reach in my pocket and pull out my phone,
4:30pm. I look back out of the windows, people and buildings still very
prevalent.


        "Oh, about 25 or 30 minutes." He shrugs and reaches up, scratching
a little bit of the stubble on his jaw before looking over at me. "Why?" I
look around still, not answering his question for a minute.


        "I just thought." I start, not really sure where to begin. Being
around this many people, in a city of this size was a crazy thought to
me. I had been to Dallas and Houston before, of course, but 30 minutes
outside of those cities was still back to grass fields and heavy woods. "I
thought it would be a little more country-ish." I look over at him,
expecting an explanation even though there wasn't one there. He looks back
and we catch each other's eyes for a moment before I lean back into the
seat, letting out a small sigh as the truck accelerates from the light.


        I close my eyes for a bit more as we pass a few car dealerships and
bodyshops, assuming that we're getting close to his house. Well, my new
home really. I open my eyes and slowly the busy streets start to feel more
like home. I see a Walgreen's on a corner and then a Starbucks across the
street. I smile out of the window as we ride past them but then I feel my
dad's hand, covering mine lightly. My heart stops and I slowly look over at
it, his large hand covering mine on the center console. I look at it for
moment before looking up to my dad, my mind racing.


        "I know that it's not what you're going to expect." He tells me
slowly and a little softly. A small silent pause fills the cabin as he
looks over at me. "But I'm sure that you will get used to it." He nods
slightly and waits. After a moment, nod back, understanding that it'll feel
like home after about a week or so. "I'm here for you if you need anything,
too. I know things feel a little different now but you'll get used to it."
He turns his attention back to the road and moves into a turn lane, slowing
down as we reach the intersection, his hand still on top of mine. "I am
your old man, after all." He smirks over at me and gives a playful wink.


        The light turns green and he turns onto a much narrower, less busy
street, a little something like what we have at home. Well, I guess it's
just something like back in Texas now since this was my new home. We
continue down the street in silence for a few moments before he signals and
slows down. He places his hand back on the wheel, turning it as we turn
down a small, unpainted street. I look out of the windshield, the
headlights of the truck illuminating the street. I watch as a few houses
roll by and I smile. There were a lot of trees in the yards, even though
the yards themselves were pretty small. The houses were all very cozy
looking as well, which surprised me. I thought all the houses would be
nearly stacked on top of each other with no trees or yards to speak of at
all but this is much nicer than what I thought. It even resembled a few
neighborhoods in my old town as well.


        "This is where you live?" I ask, a little unsure if this was the
street my new home was on or simply a cut-through to another road. I look
at my dad's face, illuminated softly by the soft glow of the gauges in the
truck.


        "No." He says simply, causing my heart to drop just a tad. He turns
to me and smiles for a second before looking back ahead. "This is where we
live." He reaches over with his free hand and grabs my shoulder without
looking, giving it a reassuring squeeze and then a gentle, almost lingering
rub. I smile as he does this and then feel his hand slide off my shoulder
as he slows down and turns sharply into a narrow and short driveway. I see
the two garage doors in the headlights as he pulls the truck to a stop, the
driveway barely long enough to hold it in it's entirety. I press the button
and roll down my window, a burst of cold air surprises me and it causes my
shirt to ruffle a bit. I study the house, what I can see of it at least.
The small yard had a few trees in it and several well manicured bushes. A
small path leads up to the small front porch that is flanked by a set of
bay-windows on either side of a large, wooden red front door that is softly
illuminated by the porch light.

	 "Well, it is what you thought it was going to be?" I hear my dad
ask as I study the house. I can feel him looking at me from behind as I
keep silent. I feel the engine shutter to a halt and then feel the same
sensation as my dad places his hand on mine. I smile softly at the thought,
still a little nervous but knowing that it is going to all be okay.


        "No." I tell him simply before turning and looking over at him,
smiling warmly. "It's even better than what I thought."