If I had a million guesses, if I had stopped to guess what I would find when I opened Eddy’s diary, I wouldn’t have guessed the truth. It was full of stories. Erotic stories. Explicit stories. So what? He’s a horny young guy. Except that, the more I read, the clearer it became that these stories were about him… and me. His silence and distance suddenly made sense.

I took the notebook downstairs and confronted him with it. I wasn’t angry. Surprised, confused, but not angry. I could see the horror in his eyes and his posture, when he looked up and saw me holding it. He didn’t even try to deny it. I told him that I wasn’t mad. It was ok. It was clear that my boy needed a hug. I stood up, lifted him to his feet, and took him into my arms.

Everything after that was unreal. But it felt right. I kissed him. I ended up eating his boy pussy. That is something I always enjoyed with women. It was so much more special with Eddy. I can’t describe it. He wanted me to fuck him. To be his first. I told him that I didn’t think either of us were ready for that. I wasn’t going to do something in the heat of passion that we might regret forever. I said that we would wait a week.

I could tell that those seven days were torture for Eddy. They were for me, too, but I’m glad we waited. At first, this was all about my son. About giving him what he needed. As the days went by though, I went from wondering if I was really going through with what was kind of an implied promise, and feeling like it was my duty to put my foot down, to admitting that I wanted it, as bad as he did.

I wanted to be his first. To make sure that was a wonderful special moment that he would treasure. But I also wanted to be inside of him. I wanted to lay down on his sweet sexy body and fuck him. I’ve said it. I wanted to fuck my son; to use my hard daddy dick to make him moan and whimper. To give him an experience that other men in the future will have to struggle to live up to.

All of that. I want all of that and I don’t know how that works out long term. I don’t know what that means for my other son. I just knew that I wanted my son and Eddy wanted me, and it was the longest week of my life. The day came. We crawled into bed. I still asked him if he was sure. He kissed me.

I made love to my son. We made love to each other. When I pressed my hard aching cock into his tight moist warmth and felt his body embrace me, heard him moan as he experienced what it feels like to be taken by a man for the first time, I knew, whether it was the right thing or not, it was the inevitable thing. There was no future where I didn’t fuck my son, no other place where my cock was meant to be.