I feel young again. I feel guilty too, but Thomas makes me feel young again…

*Two years later*

I've always enjoyed sleeping in on the weekends. Of course, my version of sleeping in isn't the same as everyone else's. Normally, I'm up and at it around 5:30 a.m. So when Saturday finally comes around, I don't rush myself out of bed until eight. Though I have my delusions about feeling young spiritually, this is still the body of a man coming up on 40 years old. This body needs extra rest every now and then.

"Mmmmm..." I could hear him groaning beside me while I was still sleeping lightly. About 30 seconds later, I could feel a shift in the weight of the bed as he decided to get up. Sleeping in wasn't really an option for him. He woke up at 7 AM daily, either to get ready for his shift at Popeyes or to attend one of his courses at the local community college. Yeah, Tee is gearing up to make something of himself. That dream of being a rapper may not be long gone, but he's definitely grasping that it is unrealistic. He's begun applying himself and figuring out what his true skills are. His sights are set on business management. And while I may not have seen his potential when Rochelle first popped up at my doorstep with him and a four-month-pregnant belly, I can admit that I've seen his growth and maturity now that he is a father.

Beside the bed, Tee let out a huge morning stretch, groaning even further. He yawned audibly, inhaling the fuck scents that still lingered in the air from our activities last night. When finished stretching, his skinny, nude body walked toward the bedroom door. He opened it and left, presumably to shower and get ready for work. Preserving my peace, he closed the door behind him.

I was hardly asleep already, but when the door closed, I opened my eyes. I looked at the empty space in the queen-size bed beside me. Weirdly enough, I was already longing for him, mildly depressed about his disappearance. I sat up against the headboard of the bed, yawning myself. Knowing it was unlikely that I would make it back to sleep, I lay awake and pondered. I thought about the thing that has constantly plagued my mind for two years: Was I really in love with my daughter's baby daddy?

I use the term "baby daddy" because they're no longer together, and that's a long story itself. I don't have official proof, but I believe it started with what we did in the middle of the night a couple of years earlier. After it happened, we both pretended that it never occurred. We tried to be normal. He was good at returning back to that normalcy, but I was not. I was already socially awkward around him. But having had him, every time I saw his face, I was reminded of how it looked when I was plunging deep into his ass and he was Cumming around my dick. Anyway, after a couple of days of weird tension, I was surprised to receive a text from my daughter saying that Thomas had broken up with her and was packing up his stuff to leave.

When she sent the message, she sent it into a group chat with me, her mom, and her stepdad, Lazell. Needless to say, my ex-wife, Letitia, was thrilled about the news. I assume Lazell was equally pleased. But me? I may have been even more disappointed than Rochelle. And yes, I will admit that I had my own selfish reasons. But before we slept together, I knew enough about him to know that his home situation wasn't great. His father left when he was young, and his mom put him out after he told her about the baby. His foundation was truly disturbed. And much like I knew that Rochelle was perpetuating our generational curse with her teen pregnancy, I didn't want my grandson perpetuating his father's. If Thomas didn't on some kind of stability, he'd end up leaving just as his father did to him. No, I didn't want that to happen to my grandchild.

During my lunch break, I drove back home to check on Rochelle and Tee. When I got home, I could already hear her screaming at him in the background. The house was a complete mess. Clothes and other items of Tee's were shredded, broken, and scattered all about the living room. And I could hear my daughter banging on a door, begging at the top of her lungs for Tee to let her in. I raced up the stairs to see her banging on my bedroom door.

"What the hell is going on here!?!?!?!" I yelled.

Rochelle turned to me, hot streaking tears running down her face.

"Daddy!!!!" She ran into my arms and began to melt down into loud sobs. "He keeps trying to leave!!!!"

"It's okay, baby girl."

I held her in my arms, consoling my pregnant teenage daughter. Though I wanted to yell and scream after looking at the messy condition of my home, I couldn’t. She was my baby girl again. I had flashes back to when she was four years old, running to my arms because she scraped her knee or twisted her ankle. My little girl was in pain, and she wasn't emotionally mature enough to maintain it. Naturally, I slid back into father mode and tried to unload that heartache from her.

"He said he's calling the police," she sobbed again.

I sighed.

Oh, shit... The last thing I wanted was for the police to show up at my house, making me the spectacle of the neighborhood. I had to move quickly. I broke my daughter's embrace, holding her head so I could inspect her face. She didn't look like she had any bruises.

"He didn't hit you, did he?" I asked.

"No, " she answered.

"And he didn't push you?"

"No."

"And you didn't fall or do anything that could injure the baby?"

"No, Daddy. He just keeps trying to leave!" She wailed.

"Okay, okay, okay. Let me handle this. Go downstairs and call your mom. Let Daddy handle this."

She was reluctant to move, but she knew that I was her problem solver. I'd always been. And since her method of cutting, bleaching, and throwing all of Tee's belongings didn't work, she knew that I would have a better approach.

"Okay," she said as she wiped her face. She began to walk down the stairs to call her mom.

I sighed again, wondering how the hell they managed to destroy my place so bad in such a short amount of time. Everything was spotless when I left for work a few hours before. I knocked on my bedroom door, the place where Thomas had barricaded himself because it was the only door with a lock on it.

"Hey Tee, it's me, Teddy," I announced.

"Damn, Mr. G," He exhaled, his body weight still resting on my arm. "You really want me to go back to my room?"

His tone sounded defeated, a tone that I really hated hearing in his voice. And I'm guessing that this is where the wires got crossed. I was hesitant to respond and shut him down completely. He should have received an unequivocal refusal… But he was a weakness for me. It wasn’t just my natural people-pleasing trait that was at play, but a deep stirring lust for him had also crept in. The two halves were slowly growing to consume my body, starting with my mouth when they forced me to confess.

“No…” I uttered.

He exhaled again, this time, his breath tickling my nose because he was staring directly at my silhouette while I stared at his.

Slowly, my tense hand started to relax, returning to its natural position. My fingertips gently touched the short bristles of his ass hairs, hovering over his ass. I shouldn't be doing it. I should not be allowing my hand to rest on his young cakes. Nor should I be squeezing his furry Little Debbies with such ample desire. It was definitely wrong for me to be looking at his dark silhouette lying next to me, craving him as I had craved many strangers who were far closer to my age. And I most certainly shouldn't be sliding my fingers into the ditch of his asshole, strongly desiring to put my dick in their place.

"Unnh," he moaned while I fiddled around his back door. His chest bucked up in my direction, and his body pulled closer to mine as he granted more access to me. After moaning a second time, he leaned in for our first kiss, which I gladly returned. Sure, on the other night, I kissed all over his body as I fucked him, but our lips didn't meet. That was the barrier that we had not crossed until now. And it felt…

Tee had the fullest and fluffiest lips I have ever witnessed on a male before. He had what guys in my day would call DSLs, a mouth made for wrapping around phallic items and sucking until eruption. He had a face built for riding dicks until they came, lips only unlatching when it was time to spray his mug like the beautiful art canvas that it was. As you could see, my mind became as pornographic as possible when I thought of him. It still does, and I wish I could help that. I didn't want to be that way. I really didn't, but my hunger for him runs deep. And if he couldn't tell before, he certainly could now.

I tongued him ferociously, unaware of how much of my eagerness was fully on display. I wanted him so bad that having him didn't feel like enough. A savage lion feasting on a murked gazelle… I'm sure that's what we would looked like if anyone had come in and caught us in this predicament, me having rolled him onto his back. Luckily, we were home alone this time because the silence was hard to keep. We smacked loudly, wet lips and tongues battling about, moans misting into the air. We continued our aggressive make-out session, aggressive on my end at least, for a couple of minutes. His body was so warm, a warmth that me and my cold bed had grown used to lacking. As much as I was all over him, he had a fire burning inside as well. Maybe even a fire burning just as hot.

"Oooh, Mr. G," he grunted.

My skin crawled. Hearing him call me by that name was a reminder of our misconduct, how I shouldn't be lying in my bed with my arms wrapped around this young man, and a strong aspiration to seed him in one hole or another.

"Mmm... Mr. G," he said again, his mouth hiding underneath mine. It took a second for me to realize that he was trying to push me back to get from underneath me, my body much weightier than his. Once I caught the hint, I drew back on my own will, pulling up from devouring his body. He gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Shit, Mr. G. You got my head spinning."

"Eh... uh... I'm sorry," I apologized. "I kind of lost myself for a second."

"Naw, you ain't gotta apologize because I liked that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah…" He looked up at me, my body still towering above his naked frame. With my eyes adjusted to the darkness now, I could see the faint traces of his face beneath. He was gorgeous, but his lips… His lips…

Suddenly, his body leaped into the air from the mattress, his succulent puckered lips greeting mine once again in a coy and timid fashion. The kiss he placed was brief, but for me, it felt like an eternity of wishes granted. I didn't want it to end. The pull he had on me was dangerous as I felt so erotically insatiable. Kissing him was not enough and neither was having him this close to me. I needed to be inside of him with him wrapped around me, us merged at our sexual organs. And even then, I might still need more. I needed to control myself better, but fuck! It was so hard to do.

Tee pulled away again, lying back against the mattress, staring up at me before he spoke.

"Mr. G?" He asked, still carrying a charming shyness to his low and raspy tone of voice.

"Yes, Tee?"

He hesitated, licking his bottom lip in a way that indicated he was rethinking this.

"Do you want to stop?" I asked. I'd be heartbroken if he said yes, but maybe it would be for the best.

"No, no!" He answered quickly. "It's just… I don't really know if you've ever done this before."

"Me?" I almost laughed. "Tee, there isn't much that I haven't done."

"Yeah, but you might feel different about it because it's me."

"Maybe. But what do you want me to do?"

"Uh... Mr. G… Can I get some head?"

He was right. It would be different, considering that it was him. Hell, I've given more niggas ass than I’ve given head. It was never really my thing. Giving head wasn't exactly an investment I was known to make. I always had too much pride to get on my knees and suck dick. I didn’t do it for fly-by-night nobodies, strictly reserving the act for serious relationships. Tee and I were far from that. We could never be in a relationship, and who knew if this would ever happen again? He may wake up tomorrow and be bored of the old man. However, I didn't want to ruin the mood. And I figured, if I did this thing for him, it might make him more receptive to a deep probing encore.

“Ok,” I agreed.

“Really?”

“Yeah… But I’ll only do it under one condition. Don’t call me “Mr. G” anymore, at least not while we’re doing… this. It feels dirty.”

“I feel you. I can stop calling you that.”

Good. It was awkward hearing the term because it was a constant reminder of our origin, of who we were and how that relationship was a contrasting conflict to our sexual magnetism. It’d be hard to dive 100% in with him constantly referring to me by this name that emphasized my seniority. Something like “Daddy,” or “Papi,” were terms I wasn’t exactly a big fan of either, but I’d actually prefer those to “Mr. G.” At least those are familiar enough to carry sexual undertones. Mr. G was a name that only Tee had ever called me, and it was generally used to acknowledge me as a partial father figure. If we were going to do this, then I needed to see him in a different light. And I needed him to see me the same way. We needed a blank slate. Banning “Mr. G” may not have done that, but it was a good start.

"My bad, I didn't know you didn't like that," he added.

"I don't," I said, dipping into his neck and placing a kiss on it.

I began to work my way, sliding down the bed, sliding down his body. His frame was so slim, so smooth. He was petite, with a waist size that I wasn't sure I had ever seen. And if I did, I had to be 2 to 3 years younger than his current age. But the thing about his build was that he was also kind of fit. He wasn't bulky like the average high school football player, but he was slender with washboard abs. I placed my hand on them as I continued scooting down the bed until I came face-to-face with his raging 7-inch hard-on. It had been stabbing me ever since we started kissing, and I felt its harsh jerking motions as it anticipated the special attention it was about to receive.

I was just about to give him exactly what he wanted when he opened his mouth to speak again.

"So, I can still call you Mr. G when we're not... doing this?" He asked.

"I don't know,” I paused and thought. “You are my roommate, after all. You should call me Teddy like everybody else... If you're comfortable enough to creep into my room, then you should at least call me by my first name.”

"Teddy," he said, testing it out. "That doesn't really feel right either, Mr. G-errr... Teddy."

He corrected himself, although he didn't care for how it sounded. And to be honest, I don't know if I was in love with it either. It didn't feel proper no matter which way I shook it, and that was probably because this thing we were doing wasn’t proper to begin with. It didn't matter how he addressed me because the true issue was that this shouldn't be happening. But I couldn't stop now. I made it this far and had him butt-assed in my bed, his little 7-inch dick waiting to be swallowed whole. I couldn't turn him down now. I lowered my head, getting so close that my breath brushed over his dick tip.

"Wait," he said, halting the immoral activity. Then, his body leaned over as he had to switch to turn on the lamp that sat on my nightstand. The light flicked on, beaming bright as if it were the sun. I recoiled like a vampire, half out of my eyes needing to adjust from the night vision. But the other half was out of a subconscious effort to turn away from the light. It doesn't make sense, but subconsciously, it seemed safer to suck him off under cloak of darkness. It would certainly feel less confrontational. Maybe if I couldn't see him clearly, I could imagine that he was somebody else: that cute mocha-colored delivery guy who drops off our packages at work or that delicious dark-skinned weightlifter from my gym. Literally, anybody else.

But no... There would be no imagining that he was someone else. There would be no suppressing this shame. The light was on and it shone on his skin. There he was, my in utero grandchild's father… The man my daughter has been recklessly in love with. And he was beautiful. He should be off-limits, but he was beautiful and there was no denying that. It was a struggle to take my eyes off of him.

When I finally did, I looked down at his lap. Seeing his rock-hard length, I realized that he looked bigger than last time. Maybe it was just because I was closer, or maybe it was because he was fully engorged. Gently, I massaged his leg with my thumb, encircling the top of his right thigh.

"Ahhh..." He exhaled in an audible whisper, moaning under the guidance of my touch. He was ready, and as much as I tried to fight it, I was willing. I sank my head into his lap, posting my facial orifice around his 7-inch pole. I took his prick into my mouth, swallowing all the way down to the base of his pelvic bone in one inhalation. He moaned again, this time, his core tightening up as if he were a wet towel being wrung dry. "Mmmmmm.... fuckkk!"

I don't know if it was his sexual inexperience (doubtful) or just his youth in general, but he was starting to shudder with an orgasmic ripple entirely too soon. His entire body began spasming while his dick jerked in my mouth. As much as I wanted to suck down quickly, I pried my lips off his meat and looked up at him.

"Pace yourself," I said. "You don't want this to be over too soon, do you?"

"Ssssssss... You right," he agreed. "It just feels so good, unnn...."

I was glad to get the compliment; it let me know that I had lost the skill since it had been out of practice for a little while. I returned to giving my daughter's ex-boyfriend a blowjob.

My definitive technique has always been to use both main oral structures in conjunction with each other to provide the most optimal pleasure. My lips formed a tight suction, with my tongue slightly extended and slithering about the underside of his thick vein. I kept a relatively loose jaw, only tightening the suction on it when I bobbed up to the tip. I'd never heard any complaints before, and I seemed to be getting songs of praise out of the youth who was currently enjoying it. His body writhed and wriggled, and as I looked up at his face, it was contorted with a jawline stretched wide almost as if he were Mr. Fantastic, himself. Damn... I couldn't be that good at this…

With the young man lodged all the way into the back of my throat, I used my tongue to lap over the front of his nut sack. I sucked the sweet pre-ejaculate nectar from him for some time before realizing that there were some mild differences from the last time I'd been this up close and personal to this region of his. He was slightly less hairy than our previous interaction. That first night we hooked up, his pubic area was a big nappy, unkempt bush. But in this meeting, he was well-trimmed, leaving just a patch of hair above his bone and very little on his balls. It was as I started playing with his balls that I noticed. I distinctly remembered looking down at his hairy nuts on the night that I fucked him. And there was a clear contrast from then to now. Nevertheless, I continued sucking.

"Oooooh.... unnnn..."

The sounds of his pleasure were so intoxicating, His moans printing in a youthful hip-hop font. Seeking more of his approval, I sucked harder and harder, putting my all into polishing his knob. He was mine, or he was gonna be. I could tell that he was fighting to hold himself back from release. This is gonna be the easiest surrender, I thought as I sucked. The kid had never been devoured like this… This was a good thing, considering that if someone had done this to him before me, I preferred that their identity remained anonymous for numerous reasons.

Clamping down his bottom lip, Tee danced in arousal, gyrating his hips and forcing his body from the bed into my face. When I began to pull my face back, his instant reflexes grabbed the back of my head to keep me near. It happened so quickly, that he didn't notice until it was too late. I looked up at him with a stern look in my eyes that caused him to yank the hand back. After reminding the young buck not to take too many liberties, I smiled to myself.

Continually sucking at his length, I placed my hand underneath his nut sack just underneath his scrotum. It became relatively clear that there was another region that sought some attention. Tee spread his legs wide, even lifting his bottom as a subtle guide.

I slowly raised, evacuating his dick from my mouth.

"Down there?" I asked.

"Please…"

"Okay."

Tee's hand found to the back to my head. Actually, it was on my neck and the back of my skull. His arm reached completely around his body and pushed my head down in an attempt to assist me in drilling further into his gold mine.

I looked down at him again, the same stern look in my eyes from when he grabbed my head while I was sucking him. But this time, he didn't let go. His need to engulf me deeper was too great to release his hold on my neck. And honestly, my need to penetrate him was too great to waste time scolding him. I looked away from his face, closing my eyes and continuing to tongue fuck the hell out of his asshole. My tongue pierced him multiple times, barging into this anal fissure with as much force as I could muster. His moans began to resonate, becoming vocal reflexes to each thrust.

"Ooooh... Oooh... yessssss... just like that... tongue-fuck my ass, Unk! Eat my ass, nigga! Eat my ass, Unk!"

Unk?!?!?

It hit me. All of those soft grunts where he exclaimed, "Unnnnn..." were actually him calling me Unk- as in Uncle. Now, I'm not naïve enough to think that he meant any disrespect by this. A lot of the youngins call dudes my age “Unk” or “Pops.” This was just the first time that it was actually happening to me. And it was happening from someone I was so enamored by who already had an age that I was insecure about. The term "Unk" only reinforced the evident age gap and the immoral activity we were partaking in. Hell, Unk was not only worse than Mr. G but far more perverse.

"Eat my booty hole, Unk! Eat that shit, my nigga!"

He was so much more turnt, so defiled, so erotically corrupted. He wanted more tongue… he wanted longer tongue. Tee was at the point of wanting a further deepening than my tongue could provide.

"Oh my… God!… Ooh... Fuck me, Unk... Fuck me, Unk!"

Tee released his tight grip on my neck, in turn placing his hand on my chin. He lifted my head up and away from the excavation of his man cave, a fiery look in his eyes that begged me to fuck him to his core.

"Fuck me, Unk! Fuck me, Unk!" He repeated himself with vigor, as he nudged my body upward. He wanted the encore, and despite the cringe I felt every time he called me Unk, I wanted it too.

Placing one hand in front of the other, I crawled out of the clasp of his slender thighs, allowing them to lower back down to a normal position, divided about my waist.

"I want you to fuck me again, Teddy... Please, fuck me again, Unk," he begged.

Almost as eager as he was, I reached down to my boxers and unbuttoned the front flap. Once I did that, my manhood was unrestricted, all nine inches shooting forward in its rockhard glory. In full erection, I kneeled over the young man as he bit his lips in anticipation. I was gonna fuck him. I was gonna fuck him no matter what he called me, but I could not have him calling me...that.

I positioned myself right at his aperture, but then I paused.

"What's my name?" I asked, looking at him in his seemingly intoxicated eyes.

He bit his lip, quizzically looking up at me and studying my face. "Teddy?"

"Naw," I said, denying his request for entry. "What's my fucking name?"

He noticed the tension rising in me, knowing that his ex-girlfriend's father had an undeterrable desire yearning to fuck and seed him. All he had to do was call me by the name I preferred…

He smiled deviously.

"Fuck me, Mr. G!"