Grant Morrison — The Resort Daddy

A Twisted Talez Story:

“Young man? Would you please come with me?” the muscular, hairy daddy asked, standing over me in swim trunks and a pair of shades as I sunbathed on the resort beach, the sun glinting on his wedding band. “I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Are you, like, a cop or something?” I asked, sitting up abruptly to address him.

“Not exactly,” he dodged. “I just need to clear up something with you.”

“Am I—am I in some sort of trouble?”

“Not if you comply with me,” he answered evasively.

“Well, I insist you tell me what this is about,” I demanded.

“I’d rather not discuss this here,” he leaned in while glancing around at the other beach goers nearby, “but it’s about the guy you sucked off last night.”

“Which guy?” I replied, knowing I’d sucked off no less than twelve guys at the resort the prior night. “Can you be more specific?”

“The young man you sucked off in that nest of palm trees,” he pointed, “during the luau dinner last night.”

“FUCK,” I gasped. “He told me he was eighteen—I swear. I mean, I didn’t check his ID or anything but he said—”

“His age isn’t an issue,” the hairy daddy interrupted, raising his hand to stop my verbal diarrhea. “The boy is eighteen, barely. I just want to talk with you about the—uh—incident with him.”

“Why?” I asked skeptically. “You work for the resort or something? Am I gonna get kicked out for blowing him?”

“No,” he answered. “I’m not with the resort. I’m the boy’s father.”

“FUCK,” I gasped again. “Sir, I’m really sorry. I’m not like a predator or something. I don’t go around grooming younger guys, honestly. If it’s any conciliation, your son was the one who propositioned me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” I insisted. “Your son approached me at the buffet and said one of the waitstaff told him that I suck cock—which is true, I’ve sucked off just about every waiter at this place since I arrived—and then your son asked if I’d blow him.”

“And so you led my boy out here to the darkened palms and drained his balls?”

“Yeah. He was in a rush to get it done.”

“Did you deep throat my son?” the daddy asked. “Take him to the balls?”

“What? What kind of a question—?”

“Just fuckin’ answer the question,” he snapped, “and there will be no trouble.”

“Yes—yes I