For real, for real this time, this is the last time.

I don’t care that you finally learned to deep-throat, or that you’ve stopped asking me to wrap up or pull out. Although you should still totally insist on that when one of your jock buddies wants to have some fun with you. Wouldn’t be much of a dad if I didn’t look out for my boy.

Okay, so you got an ass like butter. I gotta give you that. I mean, I’d never looked at you like that till I caught you plugging your butt with a condom-wrapped cucumber; could you have been any less subtle? I don’t know what I was angrier about — that you were doing it so openly, in the kitchen, when your mom could have come down… or that you lied to me by claiming you weren’t trying to get my attention. So the first time, I think we can all agree, was a fair punishment. And the second, I mean, I didn’t really get to enjoy the first time like I ought to, so it only made sense that I have another go, right? Fair’s fair.

You never should have come into the bedroom that early in the morning, and you absolutely shouldn’t have put your mouth on my morning wood while your mom was sleeping right there, that was totally unacceptable. What would have happened if I hadn’t woken up in time? I get noisy when I cum, you know that! Completely unacceptable.

So what’s a responsible dad supposed to do? When my dad caught me smoking, he took me to the basement and made me smoke a whole pack, and after that ordeal I never touched another tobacco for the rest of my life (and before you say anything, cigars don’t count), and I figured that’d be a good way to nip this little predilection of yours in the bud. If only because, let’s face it, you were a damn lousy cocksucker. All that gagging and the tears and the snot and, okay, so your ol’ man’s hung a bit bigger’n most bunnies, but it’s not like I’m a horse or a Dane or nothing.

But over the weeks of pushing your head down on my lap while I drove you to chess practice or kneeling over you on your race car bed (for which, may I remind you, you’re entirely too old), every damn opportunity I could get to stick my dick in your muzz and get you over your little phase as soon as possible, well, I gotta admit you got pretty good at it. You still can’t swallow my load as fast as I shoot, but you know how to pump the base of the shaft with your hands and play with daddy’s balls and how to make it last or get me off quick depending on how much time we have — but, no, goddammit, this is the end of the line.

This ain’t what a dad and his son ought to bond over.

One more blowjob, and then we put that behind us. Deal? I know you wanted to get closer to me and you know I want that took, so I figure, let’s go with the classics. Work on the car together. So I let you take my dick out and drain my nuts one more time so we could focus, and taught you about waxing and then you were bent over and I guess it wasn’t the very best blowjob you’ve ever given and, let’s be honest, it’d be more suspicious to your mother if I came out of the garage with an obvious hard-on in my pants.

So yeah, I took your shorts down to take care of it real quick, but it’s not, like, sex, really, it’s just… maintenance. Which is what I brought you out here to learn, after all.

This is definitely the last time. We’ve had our fun and anyway, you should be dating guys or girls your own age. Sure, you’re the bookish type, but I hear that’s kind of the style these days, right? So the next time you slip your hand up under my bathrobe or ask me to help you with something when you’re in the changing room or you happen to come into the shower right after I’m finished and towelling off, nothing’s gonna happen, I think we can both agree on that.

I’ll just go back to jerking off before bed. Ain’t like I need to feel your sweet lips sliding down my dick, or my balls bouncing off yours while you mash that pretty li’l tush against my open fly to make sure you get every drop of daddy’s juice. It’s not like I always used to pitch a tent when you looked at me over the rims of your glasses and licked your lips during dinner, or ever heard you mumble my name when I watched you sleep.

When I pick you up from chess club I won’t park at the far end of the parking lot, under the broken streetlamp where nobody can see us, and we won’t sit way in the back when we go to the movies and neither of us are gonna encourage your mom to spend a weekend with her sisters every month.

Shit, is she home?