Taking Things Further

Sleep came slowly that night. I played over and over in my head,, what I’d seen, what I’d heard, what I’d done. I felt I could still taste Dad in my mouth, even though I’d cleaned my teeth. I’d wanked and cum several times. I still had so many questions! Over breakfast, I tried talking to dad but he was in a rush, so a lot of his responses were brief. I wanted to know more about when Mum and Dad were my age.

He did tell me that mum had been with several guys before she hooked up with dad for the first time, and that he’d been with a few girls himself. He told me that there was a guy living nearby who had been his first bisexual experience, watching porn on film loops and ‘dirty mags’. This guy still lived there, on the corner of the green, and we all knew him, Mr Coombs, as a kindly old man. I had no idea that, years before, he’d enjoyed sharing porn with young guys like my dad.

After breakfast, Dad rushed off. I sat about for a bit, somewhat frustrated. I wanted to know everything, all at once! I went back up to Dad’s bedroom and opened the drawer. It was full of Mum’s underwear and I had fun trying on different things. It was only that I got to the bottom that I remembered the polaroids. These were incredible. There were pictures of Mum on her own, with Dad and with other men and women. What Dad had said that he and Mum had been swingers was not wrong. I masturbated several times to the pictures, especially the ones with Mum, or Mum and Dad.

Later on, I went out to the shops to get a comic but on the way back, I decided to walk across the green, which was an expanse of public land where football and cricket was played. I looked over at Mr Coombs house and imagined Dad going there. Then I noticed him out in his garden, with a watering can. The courage of lust took over and I went towards his house.

“Good Morning, Mr Coombs, how are you?” “I’m fine, thanks. Anthony, isn’t it?” “That’s right. I’m Rick’s son” “Ah, yes, of course you are”

And then, even more lust and inquisitiveness took over.

“Actually, Dad was telling me that he used to come over to visit you, when he was younger.” “Did he? He was always very thoughtful, your Dad. Did he tell you anything else?” I nodded and said “Perhaps I could visit?”

Mr Coombs didn’t miss a step and just replied

“Would you like to come in for a drink?”

I nodded vigorously and followed Mr Coombs into his lounge. After we’d sat down and chatted for a while, I grew ever more bold.

“Dad said you used to show him films and let him read some of your magazines” “Did he? I thought he’d forgotten.” “No, quite the contrary. He told me he had a lot of fun with you”

Mr Coombs looked me straight in the eye for a moment

“And did you want to see some of my films?” “Yes, please”

“Follow me then,” and he led me upstairs to a large room. The curtains were shut and he switched on the lights. There was a large settee, some casual chairs, a large collection of video cassettes next to a TV, a projector and a screen, and cupboards full of magazines. In one corner of the room were dresses and there was a drawer open and I could see women’s underwear in the drawer.

“What sort of thing would you like to watch or read?” “The same as Dad liked”

He stared at me for a second, then regained his composure, as if nothing had happened.

“Let’s try this one.”

He took out a reel of film and loaded it into his projector. The film was in colour, though with an orange tinge, and had no sound. It was a Danish film, and proudly said ‘Copenhagen 1971’ underneath the title screen. The film opened with a teenage girl masturbating on her bed. A young male, about my age, was watching her through a crack in the door. An old man crept up and the two of them watched the girl for a while, before the man gestured for the boy to follow to another room. There both boy and man (his grandfather perhaps?) got undressed and both gave blow jobs to the other. Everything happened quickly, and I guess that’s because the reel couldn’t hold too much film.

“Did you enjoy that?” “Very much,” as I sat there very aware of my erection in my trousers. “Your Dad used to like that one, especially as he used to peek on his sister when she masturbated.” My Dad’s sister was Aunty Jackie, very nice but not someone I ever thought of as especially interesting or adventurous. The thought of her masturbating, even if that was over 25 years ago, was a thrill though.

“Shall we watch something else?” “Yes, that would be great.”. Mr Coombs found a video cassette. “I’m trying to transfer my reels onto video cassette. Takes up less room.”