That’s when it happened. Just when I was about to open the bathroom door, it opened on its own and I ran face first into Mr. Hickman’s chest. To be honest, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven because the man before me looked like Hercules. He was all bronzed skin, rippling muscle, and ridged abs with nothing but a thin towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets rolled off his skin, and my mouth went dry as I stared at one particular water droplet making its way down his abs and into the waistband of his towel.
“Oof! Sorry about that, my fault. It’s all yours, sweetheart,” Gary winked before moving down the hall. I’d nearly turned to follow him into his bedroom before I realized what he meant. The bathroom. The bathroom was all mine. Not him.
But I haven’t stopped thinking about that moment since it happened. How can I? The image of the older man half-naked and dripping wet is permanently seared into my brain, and to be honest, every time I look at Gary, I can’t help but wonder how he and Brian are related. After all, Gary’s the image of a virile superhero, whereas Brian resembles a scrawny Peter Parker, or even Bruce Banner pre-transition. How can these two share DNA?
Nonetheless, now the older man seems to agree that his son is a twit … and he’s smiling at me like he has something that will make me very happy.
2
Gary
I’m astonished by the sight before me. My son is dating a gorgeous girl who’s sitting on the couch right now, watching with a surprised expression as Brian roundhouse kicks the air before landing in a pile of cushions with an awkward “oof!” This is utterly ridiculous, not to mention rude. Brian’s nineteen, so he should know better than to treat a guest, much less a girlfriend, this way.
“He can’t hear you, sweetheart,” I sigh, standing from my chair to make my way into the living room. “It’s an immersive headset, so Brian can’t see or hear anything that isn’t happening in his virtual world.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” Patty says in a soft voice before letting out a sigh herself. “It seems this is a really good game.”
I narrowly dodge a punch from Brian as I pass by him to sit with her.
“Good doesn’t even begin to describe it,” I say in a wry tone. “Let’s just say that if this house were set ablaze, Brian absolutely would not leave unless he had his VR headset and console tucked under his arm. But are you alright?” I ask. “I know Brian can be a bit clueless at times.” At that, I look at my dunce of a son, still punching and kicking at the air like a lunatic. “Sorry,” I repeat, genuine regret filling my voice.
“Yeah, I know,” Patty says in a soft voice. “It’s okay.” Her lips turn down a bit at the corners as she stares down at her hands, and the sight has my resolve hardening because here’s every guy’s wet dream, sitting right in the middle of our living room waiting to be noticed, and yet my son doesn’t seem to give a damn. It’s mind-boggling. I wonder how my son even managed to land a girl like Patty in the first place. How has he kept her around the past couple months? Doesn’t Patty realize that she could have any man that she wants?
After all, my son’s girlfriend is absolutely gorgeous. She’s curvy and soft in that way that I like, with lots of flesh on her frame and the biggest, roundest rump I’ve ever seen. She’s got huge breasts, which are currently straining at a tiny polo top, and thick thighs too, shown off to perfection in short shorts. Not only that, but Patty’s got the greatest smile, and a wonderful sense of humor too. We’ve chatted a few times in the past and she definitely likes to laugh.
Hell, if I were Brian and I had Patty in my sights, I’d have her in my bedroom right now with those clothes off and her legs spread. I’d be sucking at her tits while making her moan, and then taking her hard over and over again. Yet there’s my son, doing another air kick while attacking some invisible enemy.
Then again, I shouldn’t be having these illicit thoughts. I shouldn’t even be noticing my son’s girlfriend much less commenting on her appearance, even if I’m just doing it in my head. There’s a long list of things that I do not want to be, and a dirty old man is way up there. I can’t be thinking about this girl like some disgusting old lech, even if my body’s already getting hard in her presence. The last thing I need is to be concerned with is how good her breasts look in that top or how much I want those thick thighs wrapped around my head. Fuck. I growl and look at the floor in an attempt to control my libido.