I love—all right, tolerate—going home to visit my family over the holidays, but one thing, in particular, drives me absolutely bonkers: I can’t have sex. My parents are nosy, constantly asking where I’m going, who I’m seeing, and when I’ll be back. And while they know that I literally have a memoir coming out called Boyslut, I still don’t feel comfortable looking my mother in the eyes and saying, “I’m hopping over to Domtop69’s place so I can get my gut rearranged. What do I know about him, you ask? Well, he’s 42 years old, packing eight inches, has a hairy belly, and his kinks include daddy/son role play.”
Why not lie and say I’m seeing a friend? Well, Grindr encounters take all of 25 minutes, and who hangs out with a friend for all of 25 minutes? Not to mention, guys flake hard. The one time I tried to coordinate something, the dude flaked at the last minute. It was this whole ordeal because my mom insisted I borrow her car, even though I insisted on calling an Uber. Then when I didn’t need her car after all, it became this whole to-do that it really, really didn’t need to be. (Gotta love moms!)
All this to say, while I’m at my childhood home, it’s usually easier to just stew in my horniness and take long showers where I masturbate vigorously and try not to lose my mind when my mom asks for the umpteenth time, “Aren’t you concerned that you share too much about your personal life online?” (It’s like, Mom, that ship has sailed!)
A few trips ago, however, my usual shower masturbation routine was not cutting it. If I didn’t get dicked down by a flesh-and-blood penis, I would have perished—withered away into a pile of sexually unsatisfied dust.
So early one evening, when my mom was off with her friends and only my dad and I were home, I decided I would have a boy over to get fucked. It was risky, but it needed to happen. I found a random cutie on Grindr, and after we exchanged about 20 words (and multiple graphic photos), I invited him over. I let him know that my dad would be home, so he just had to lie and say he was a friend from New York, also in town for the holidays. He agreed.
Thirty minutes later, I heard the doorbell ring. I opened the door, gave my guest a peck on the lips, and prepared him for an influx of eye-roll-inducing dad jokes. Now, this guy may not have gotten a BFA from Tisch, but he fooled my dad. After the appropriate amount of chit-chat (two minutes), we headed to my bedroom. The entire charade was surprisingly painless.
But then I noticed a slight obstacle I had overlooked. My dad was in the living room, directly next to my room. Knowing him, he was not going to move anytime soon—and if he did move, it would be to come into my bedroom to perform his tight five (more dad jokes). I already had enough to unpack in therapy, so having my father walk in on me while I was face-down, ass-up was not an option.
Luckily, I was hit by a stroke of genius: We could fuck by the outdoor hot tub. My dad uses a wheelchair, and multiple steps were needed to get to the Jacuzzi. There was no way he could interrupt to recite his stand-up routine. It was also out of eyeshot no matter where he was in the house. Perfection.
I told my new best friend to get naked and threw him a towel. “Let’s go outside,” I said. He stripped down, and I ogled his penis with absolutely zero chill. I was so close to dropping to my knees right there, but I snapped out of my trance when he asked, “Do you like what you see?”
“Yes,” I said. “Very much so.”
We walked out naked, towels wrapped around our waists. I cupped a tiny travel-size bottle of lube in my hand.
“We’re going to the Jacuzzi,” I said to my dad.
“What, you’re trying to get away from me?” he joked.
My hookup and I laughed awkwardly. It was a little too on the nose.
We walked up the stairs and circled around the yard to the Jacuzzi. I dropped my towel, and he dropped his. Wearing nothing but our birthday suits, we stepped into the hot tub. Once in, we locked eyes. His lips curled into a naughty smile, and I nearly had a heart attack.
I pressed my lips onto his. It was a hungry, open-mouth kiss—a kiss from a man who’d been deprived of dick for what felt like an eternity. I straddled him, my weight light in the water. Our hands freely roamed each other’s bodies, and I felt him grow hard under my ass.
This wasn’t my first rodeo, so I knew you can’t really fuck submerged in a body of water. You technically can, but it doesn’t feel great for either party. I stood up on the Jacuzzi step, exposing my butt but keeping everything below my knees in the water. He did the same. I grabbed the bottle of lube, applied liberally, and he slowly entered me. I let out a much louder moan than I had anticipated.
“Wait,” I said, pausing to turn on some obnoxiously loud jets that made it sound like we were in the middle of a war zone.
“Okay, go for it,” I said, and he gave me a goddamn pounding. It wasn’t necessarily good from a technical perspective—both our angles and rhythms were off—but I didn’t care. I was so pent-up and so turned on by getting fucked outside by a stranger, knowing there was a risk of getting caught. He came in me, and I accidentally came in the Jacuzzi. (Thank god for chlorine.)
Once we both finished, we headed back inside. My dad was where we had left him, none the wiser. My partner in crime left shortly after, tossing my dad a casual, “Great to meet you!” on his way out. My dad replied in kind. We did it. We pulled off the ultimate heist—or at least something that felt heist-adjacent.
“He seemed like a nice man,” said my dad.
I nodded. “He is.”
Since this fateful evening, I have hooked up with someone every single time I’ve visited my parents. No exception. As they say, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” And my will dictates that absolutely nothing—not even cockblocking dad jokes—will stop me from getting dicked down.
