Dad's Boxers

Being ghosted never felt so good.

Though Brenda Warner had adjusted the air conditioner three times at her son’s request, the central air refused to bring the temperature of the dusty attic down. This made moving a dozen boxes of old clothes exceedingly uncomfortable for the attractive teenager, whose muscles were burning by the time he lugged the final box down late Saturday morning. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dampening strands of his dark hair. Brenda’s voice echoed from the first floor in her usual demanding voice.

“Just pile them by the front door when you’re finished, sweetheart! The Goodwill truck comes at four!” The scent of lemon Pledge filled his nostrils as he set the box on the floor. “Can you take one more look around? I want to make sure we don’t miss anything!”

“Got it, Mom,” Jeremy replied, slightly breathless as he turned toward the attic stairs one last time. He scanned the cluttered space, spotting a dusty cardboard box tucked away in the corner. Unlike the others labeled ‘Mom’s Knick-Knacks’ or ‘Winter Coats’, this one bore a single, faded name in thick black marker: CADE. Jeremy felt like he had seen a ghost. Cade was his father. The handsome Navy sailor whose framed image had occupied his nightstand for as long as he could remember. The man he’d secretly fantasized about, fueling countless sticky-handed nights with stolen glances at that confident smile and strong jawline captured in glossy print.

Jeremy approached Cade’s box, not sure what he would find but certain he needed to take a look for himself before strangers went digging through it. He lifted the flaps, the cardboard brittle under his fingers, releasing the ghostly scent of saltwater and old cotton. Inside weren’t just clothes—it was a time capsule. Folded neatly on top lay a pair of crisp white boxer shorts, the elastic still surprisingly resilient. His father’s underwear. Jeremy’s fingers trembled as he touched the soft cotton, a bolt of illicit heat striking low in his belly. Beneath the boxers lay faded jeans, a worn denim jacket smelling faintly of engine grease, and tucked against the side of the box, a small, leather-bound journal.

“No way,” Jeremy said to himself. Did Brenda know this was up here? He had asked a thousand times if there was anything else of his around the house, but she insisted there was not.

His heart pounding like a drum solo, Jeremy carefully extracted the boxers and the diary. He quickly shoved the box back into its corner, hiding it behind a stack of old lampshades. Stowing his prizes under his own shirt, he hurried downstairs, muttering something about needing a shower to his oblivious mother. Safely locked in his bedroom—a sanctuary plastered with movie posters and scripts—Jeremy sank onto his bed. He held the white boxers first, bringing the soft fabric to his face. Inhaling deeply, he imagined he could still catch the faintest trace of his father’s musk beneath the years of storage—an aroma that was responsible for his hardening cock.

Setting the boxers aside with unsteady hands, he opened the diary. The pages were filled with a bold, masculine script.

October 12th, ‘04: Port Call, San Diego. Another shore leave, another bar crawl. Found myself shoulder to shoulder with Mikey from engineering. Solid guy and a real ladies’ man. Aren’t they all? Built like a damn brick shithouse. A few too many beers, ended up stumbling back to his cramped berth. One minute we’re laughing about the Chief’s mustache, next minute he’s got my fly open and my cock in his mouth. Christ, he knew what he was doing. Throat was warm and deep enough to take my long shaft. Said he’d had his eye on it for months. Why didn’t he just ask? Had him bent over his bunk not long after, pounding into that tight ass like my life depended on it. He moaned like a bitch and begged for more. Good sailor. Took it all.

Jeremy gasped, his skin growing hotter by the moment. He read page after feverish page, many of them stained with cum and and with pubic hairs of varying colors affixed throughout. Cade described encounters in showers crowded with steaming bodies, quick fucks in supply closets reeking of oil, lazy afternoons spent blowing shipmates under the sweltering sun on deserted decks. The writing was raw, graphic, and unapologetically queer. Every thrust, every groan, every gasped obscenity was detailed with vivid, explicit clarity. Cade spoke of thick cocks sliding down his throat, the aching stretch of taking a particularly well-endowed machinist’s mate, the hot splash of cum on his skin or deep inside him (he referred to himself as a “cum whore” every other entry. He wrote with the casual confidence of a man utterly at home in his own forward-minded sexuality.

Overwhelmed, Jeremy shoved a hand into his jeans. His cock was rigid, straining against the denim. He quickly stripped off his clothes, kicking them aside. With shaking hands, he pulled on his father’s white boxers. The cotton felt intimate against his bare skin, almost sacred. He lay back on the bed, the diary splayed open on his chest, one hand gripping the spine, the other finding its way inside the waistband of the boxers. He wrapped his fingers around his own hard boner, already slick with precum. He read aloud, his voice a husky whisper, mimicking the bold script.

November 3rd, ’04: Open Sea. Storm’s rocking us hard. Power’s out in our section. Pitch black. Found Robbie huddled in the mess, scared shitless. Poor kid. Just found his girlfriend is having twins. Thought I was being nice holding him. Next thing I know, his hand’s rubbing my crotch through my whites. Didn’t need asking twice. Fucked him right there on the mess table, dishes rattling. Could barely see him, just felt him. Hot skin, tight hole, his whimpers louder than the wind. Came so hard inside him I saw stars. He kissed me after. Sweet kid… for now.

Jeremy’s strokes became frantic. He imagined the rocking ship, the darkness, his father’s powerful body driving into Robbie. He pictured Cade’s masculine face—the sharp angles softened by lust, sweat beading on his brow. The fantasy merged with the photo on his nightstand. He moaned, his hips jerking off the bed. “Dad… fuck…” It did not take long for the dam to burst. Cum erupted from his throbbing cock, splattering his stomach and the inside of his father’s boxers, his body shuddering through the powerful release. “I wish you were here… I wish you could fuck me…” Panting and tired from the weight of his discoveries, the teen drifted into an exhausted sleep, the diary still open on the bed, the damp boxers clinging to his skin. This was the closest he had ever felt to his father.

The darkness around him shifted, deepened. A cool breeze, smelling distinctly of the ocean, washed over him. Jeremy stirred, blinking. He wasn’t in his room anymore. He lay on a vast stretch of soft, sun-warmed sand under a star-filled sky. The rhythmic crash of waves filled the air. Sitting beside him, silhouetted against the moonlight, was a figure. Jeremy’s breath caught.

“Hey, kiddo,” the man said in a deep voice that shook the teen to his core. Jeremy recognized the man instantly. It was Cade. Exactly as he’d been in his prime: late twenties, powerfully built with broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, his classic Navy good looks amplified tenfold. He wore only the same pair of pristine white boxers Jeremy now had on. Moonlight gleamed on the defined muscles of his broad chest and abdomen, every ripple deepening with the tiniest shift of his body. His smile was dazzling, confident, and utterly knowing.

“C-Cade… Cade Warner?” Jeremy stammered, pushing himself up. The sand felt real, gritty under his palms. “Dad?”

“The one and only, son,” Cade chuckled, the sound sending shivers down Jeremy’s spine. He shifted closer, the warmth radiating from his body enveloping Jeremy. “Been watching you grow up, Jer. Seen the picture by your bed. Seen… everything.” His eyes roamed appreciatively over Jeremy’s bare chest and the white cotton stretched over his thighs. “You turned out damn fine. Just like your old man hoped.” He reached out, his large, calloused hand firm as it cupped Jeremy’s cheek. The touch was electric, sending sparks through Jeremy’s nerves. “Proud of you, son. Real proud. And I know… I know how you feel about me. How you’ve wanted me.”

Cade’s strong fingers slid into Jeremy’s hair, pulling him forward gently but insistently. Their lips met. It wasn’t an innocent father-son kiss. It was deep, hungry, and urgent. Cade’s tongue probed Jeremy’s mouth, tasting him as though he had been waiting too long for this day. Perhaps he had. Jeremy moaned into the kiss, his own arms wrapping around his father’s broad back, fingers exploring the hard muscle. The rough texture of Cade’s skin, the heat pouring off him, the salty taste of his mouth—it was overwhelming for the teen, but as anxious as he was, he wouldn’t retreat. Cade’s other hand slid down Jeremy’s chest, fingers tracing the waistband of the boxers before slipping inside. He found Jeremy already stiff and leaking, wrapping strong fingers around his son’s cock, giving a slow, unhurried stroke.

“Look at you,” Cade murmured against his lips, his breath hot. “Hard as a fucking anchor chain for your dad. Knew you would be.” He squeezed, making Jeremy cry out, hips thrusting involuntarily against the man’s firm grip. “That’s it. Show me how much you want it, son. Just as much as me, I suspect.”

Jeremy woke with a gasp, tangled in his sweat-dampened duvet. Morning light streamed through his window. He was alone. His heart hammered against his ribs. It felt so real. He threw back the covers. The white boxers were still on him, sticky and cold with the evidence of a massive wet dream soaking through the cotton and onto the sheets beneath him. He touched the damp fabric over his half-erect cock, a confusing mix of shame and thrilling arousal washing over him. The diary lay closed on his nightstand beside the picture of Cade. Had it all been just a dream?

Jeremy’s bedside photo of his father, Cade.

That night, Jeremy went to bed early, the white boxers freshly washed but still carrying that phantom scent in his mind. He turned his father’s photo toward him and undressed, showing off his body to the still, framed black-and-white photo of Cade Warner. He pulled shorts on slowly, the cotton cool against his skin, a silent invitation for his father to return. He didn’t read the diary again. He could picture every entry so clearly in his head. It was as though his father’s most sensuous experiences now resided in his memories, clear as day and ready for reminiscing.

The teen lay in the dark, heart pounding with desperate hope and nervous fear. He didn’t have to wait long. The air in his small bedroom grew thick and charged, crackling with a mysterious energy. The scent of saltwater intensified. Then, a heavy warmth pressed against his side. Jeremy turned his head slowly.

Cade lay half-propped beside him on one elbow, completely nude this time. The moonlight was drawn to him, illuminating the powerful lines of his body—the sculpted chest, the deep ridges of his abdomen, the thick, heavy cock hanging full and proud against a muscled thigh, already half-swollen. His eyes, gleaming in the dimness, locked onto Jeremy’s with fatherly lust.

“No dreams tonight, kiddo,” Cade promised, his tone a low growl that vibrated in Jeremy’s bones. “No pretending.” His large hand slid over Jeremy’s chest, rough fingertips circling a nipple, making it peak instantly. “Been waiting too damn long for this. Watching you touch yourself every time you thought of me… hearing you call out Daddy when you played with your hole.” He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Jeremy's boxers. “These are mine. And so…” he yanked the cotton down Jeremy’s hips in one swift motion, exposing his son’s nakedness beneath, his cock springing free, already thick and leaking with precum, “…is this.”

“Fuuuck… Jeremy moaned, his shaft gripped tight by a hand other than his own.

Cade rolled, pinning Jeremy beneath him effortlessly; the sheer weight and power of his form was astonishingly real. His lips crashed down on Jeremy’s, taking in the teen’s whimper. Like the night before, the kiss was searing, demanding. Cade’s tongue explored Jeremy’s mouth while his hands roamed insistently, mapping the planes of his son’s chest, gripping his hips, kneading the firm flesh of his ass. His cock, now fully erect and thick as Jeremy had ever dreamed, pressed against Jeremy’s thigh.

“You’re mine, son,” Cade declared, his breath warm on Jeremy’s neck. He made a trail of biting kisses along the length of Jeremy’s throat, across his collarbone, pausing to swirl his tongue around a peaked nipple. Jeremy writhed, moaning, arching his back. Every touch was electric, overwhelming. “All mine. My beautiful boy.” His hand slipped between their bodies, fingers closing around Jeremy’s cock firmly, stroking it with a practiced rhythm that had Jeremy gasping and bucking instantly. Precum slicked his father’s fingers.

“N-Need you… Dad…” Jeremy called out, not possessing the fortitude to quiet himself.

Cade grinned, a wicked flash of teeth in the moonlight. “I know what you need, son.” He released Jeremy’s cock, his hand sliding lower, fingers probing between Jeremy’s cheeks. One thick digit, slick with something cool and slick that hadn’t been there a moment before, pressed against Jeremy’s tight hole. Jeremy tensed instinctively.

“Easy,” Cade murmured, his lips finding Jeremy’s ear, nipping the lobe. “Relax for me. Open up for your dad.” The finger pressed inward, moving past the tight ring of muscle with slow, unrelenting pressure. A sharp sting gave way to a deep, unfamiliar stretch that made Jeremy cry out. Before the teen could screech too noisily, the sound was muffled by his father’s kiss. Cade’s finger worked deeper, curling, possessing his son’s virgin hole. He found the small, sensitive nub inside that sent exquisite pleasure racing through Jeremy’s body. “There it is,” Cade chuckled, running his teeth over Jeremy’s jaw as he rubbed the spot relentlessly, adding a second finger. Jeremy’s hips jerked uncontrollably, his cock throbbing, his entire body unable to remain still. “That feel good? Getting stretched open for my cock?”

“Y-Yes! God, Dad… yes!” Jeremy panted, his vision blurring as warm waves of pleasure ran over him. It felt unnatural but exciting and unpredictable. The stretching burn was fading, replaced by an ache so profound it bordered on pain, yet was utterly euphoric. He pushed back against Cade’s fingers, wanting more. “M-more… I can t-take it…”

Cade withdrew his fingers. The sudden emptiness made Jeremy sigh. Before he could protest, Cade gripped the teen’s hips, flipping him onto his stomach with startling strength. Jeremy felt the rough texture of his father’s hands on his ass cheeks, spreading them wide. Then, the blunt pressure of Cade’s cockhead pressed against his stretched, slicked hole.

“Take it, son,” Cade instructed. “Take your father’s cock.” He pushed forward, slow and relentless. “Shit… my boy’s been waiting to sit on my rod.”

The cock was immense, feeling as though it had grown twice in size. Jeremy buried his face in the pillow, muting his cries as inch by thick inch filled his insides. Cade grunted above him, a sound of pure animal pleasure. “Fuck… you’re tight, son. Perfect.” He paused, letting Jeremy adjust to the overwhelming sensation of being impaled by a foot of cock, stretched wide around his father’s girth. Jeremy could feel every throbbing vein, every ridge of the thick shaft buried deep inside him. It felt like he might break, the pressure was so intense.

Then Cade began to move. Jeremy bit down on his lip hard, surprised he could withhold his scream. Slow, deep pulls that dragged every inch of his cock along Jeremy’s tender hole, followed by powerful thrusts that slammed back down, forcing grunts from Jeremy’s throat with every brutal impact. Cade leaned forward, covering Jeremy’s back, his chest slick with sweat pressed against Jeremy’s shoulder blades, his lips hot on Jeremy’s neck. He gripped Jeremy’s hips, controlling the pace, setting a rhythm that was simultaneously punishing and unarguably pleasurable. The slap of skin on skin filled the small room, mingling with Jeremy’s repeated gasps and Cade’s low, feral growls.

“Uuunnnghhh…” Jeremy moaned, fighting the desire to tell Cade to either slow down or stop.

“This is what you’ve been waiting for, right, son?” Cade hissed, punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust that made Jeremy see stars. “Feel your daddy deep in your guts? Making you mine? Taking my boy just like I took a hundred sailors before you. Your mother threw out dozens of journals, kiddo. You have no idea what kind of a slut is riding your asshole tonight.” He angled his hips, driving forward, and grinding deeper. The thick head of his cock slammed directly into Jeremy’s prostate with incredible force. “Men waited in line for hours to ride my cock. Daily.”

Jeremy moaned, a raw string of unusual sounds of pure ecstasy. He felt like his beating heart would burst if he didn’t. His entire body shook and shook hard. His cock, trapped in place, begged for attention, spilling hot streaks of cum onto the sheets untouched. An orgasm suddenly ripped through him like a lightning bolt, causing him to feel faint. Could he take much more of his father’s vigorous affection? His inner muscles clamped down hard on Cade’s buried shaft.

“Yeeeessss, son…” Cade roared in approval. Jeremy’s tight, spasming hole proved too much for the apparition. With a final, penetrating thrust that drove Jeremy’s hips into the mattress, Cade buried himself balls deep, sending a warm rush of phantom cum inside the young man. Jeremy was dizzy from the hot, wet juices flowing deep inside him, flooding his insides. Cade collapsed onto him, his full weight pinning Jeremy down, both of them panting, slick with sweat. “Waited too long for that,” he said, circling his long cock around every inch of his son’s anal cavity as if he were claiming his territory. “Felt like an eternity.”

They stayed like that for a long while, appreciating what they had just done and what they had been missing. Gradually, Cade softened and withdrew, leaving Jeremy feeling worried that his father would disappear from his life once again. Cade rolled Jeremy onto his side, spooning up behind him. One powerful arm wrapped possessively around his son’s chest, pulling him back tight against the solid wall of muscle and heat that was his father. Cade’s lips brushed the damp hair at Jeremy’s temple.

“Sweet fuck, kid,” Cade said, still sounding winded. “You take cock like a sailor. That’s a compliment.” His hand drifted down, fingers exploring the firm muscles of Jeremy’s stomach. “We got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Jeremy snuggled back into the warmth of his father’s embrace, the lingering ache between his asscheeks a delicious reminder. “Are… are you staying?” he asked, feeling a lump in his throat. “Can you?”

Cade’s arm tightened. His lips ran along the curve of Jeremy’s neck. “Ain’t going nowhere, sailor. This is home now.” He kissed Jeremy’s shoulder, sending goosebumps racing across the teen’s body. “Get some sleep. You’re gonna need your strength. I plan on breaking in my boy proper. All night long.” His hand slid lower, fingers teasingly skimming the sensitive skin just above Jeremy’s cock, running his fingers through his son’s wet pubes. “This is just the beginning. You and me, kiddo? This is forever.”