Dear Old Dad 1…

My Dad and I have never really gotten along for some reason, maybe it was the fact that he seemed to spoil me at every possible moment or maybe it was the fact that when he found out I was gay he blamed him self, whatever the reason we always seemed to fight whenever he was home.

Let me give you a brief history of my family. My dad and mom were in the military moving around every 3 years, therefore I never grew close to anyone except family. Before, my dad and I would do all the fatherly and son things (kissing, hugs, tickles, and wrestling). But this changed when we finally settled down and he moved to Washington D.C. (to work) and we stayed in Wisconsin. There grew this huge tension in the air and it never bothered me but it always made him angry and we would get in a yelling match (by this time I was 18 and he was 48).

Well one day, while my dad was home, I had been out with my boyfriend and we had finished having sex at his house. He had fucked my hole hard and I had some hickies from all the passionate humping and making out that had gone on. But I had just gotten home, with cum still in my ass, and it was about 3a.m. When I opened the door my dad turned around from the living room chair, his face had that cold calculating look that a predator gives his prey. He stood up looked at me from across the room…took a few long strides until he was right in front of me…and slapped me across the face. This was the first time he had ever gone beyond the usual yelling and screaming, it surprised me so much I just staggered back into the chair behind me.

The hand that I had known all my life, that had picked me up when I was down and guided me towards the right decision and the same one that had just slapped me, caressed my face, lightly rubbing the red welt that was now starting to sting.