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Pleasured By His Father (LGBT/18+)

book_age18+
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BDSM
dark
possessive
one-night stand
fated
drama
twisted
bxb
mxb
bisexual
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Blurb

Jarrod Lerman, the father of Jared Lerman, threw his son because he's gay. Dealing with it, he needs to cope up, avoid the dark past that has been haunting him. After the death of his wife, Redina, he took care of Jared ever since he was a kid; did his best like Redina did and would do. But since Jared became a gay, he becomes broken. Terrified of his past, he needs someone to help him. He wants to accept Jared for who he is but afraid of something.

Ajax Swain Aynen is such a bubbly person; always smiling at times like hell. Helping everyone. He is the school's cutest and funniest person. He has the looks that could bring the girls on his knees. A smile that could take the girls' souls. When he decides to go into Jared's house, everything becomes hell.

What if an accuse turns into 'reality'? What if both person falls for each other unexpectedly?

[SHORT STORY]

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Chapter 1
As Jared drives away, I cry like hell. I want to take care of him; to forgive him; to forget the past I've been hiding all by myself. I punch the wall, making my knuckles bleed. I can't stop the tears running down on my cheeks. This makes my heart ache. When I heard him call me Mr. Lerman, I felt—feel—awful. I'm like a cruel bastard. But what would I do? What do I need to do? I promised Redina, my late wife, that I would take care of him no matter what happens. Jared being gay happened, and I know I failed Redina. I failed everyone. Even my own son. There are times that I just want to forget everything, about him being gay. Remembering my past, I shake the thought away as I continue to sob, wiping the tears using the back of my hand. Knowing Redina, she would probably hug me and put a trail of kisses all over my face. I smile, just a little, on the thought. But the aching feeling won't get away. Because, in every angle, my life isn't complete without Jared by my side. It feels like the loss is happening again. Realization hits me, remembering Jared, he already gave up on me and that makes me cry again. I slump myself deeper on the couch as I think the beautiful memories of Jared, Redina and I have made. The eco park we used to go, little Jared would cling on Redina's arms and laugh. Redina, for sure, would pick him up and kiss him until Jared would say 'Stop! Daddy, Mommy is killing me!' and I would chuckle, giving him a fake sad smile, which would make little Jared pout. Little Jared and I would stroll on the greenery field whilst watching the fish swim its way into the depth, and Jared would point it out and tell me if I could catch it. Of course I would say yes, then Redina would say, 'Don't give him false hopes, Rod' and I would just make a face at her and she'd giggle. Running a hand through my already tousled blonde hair, I let out a sigh in bury my face in my hands, thinking of the old memories I could not go to again. Slumping myself even deeper on the couch, I shut my eyes and try to relax, but my mind doesn't want to listen. Instead, I sleep with heavy, sad thoughts flashing in my mind. • • • Waking up, I can see the light flashing through the curtainless window and I just sigh, my stomach grumbling. I stand up, fix my disheveled shirt, then go to the kitchen to prepare food for myself. Looking at the window, the sun is shining brightly, with the birds singing soothingly, filling the air with their cute voice, I just shut my eyes and listen carefully, finally relaxing just a little bit. I take a deep breath and open the stove. Since Redina died, I've taken cookery classes just to know how to make food for Jared, mine as well. I did good and well. And I'm proud of it. I'm sure Redina is proud of me too. Then my brain flashes the thought of Jared crying. My smile falters and I feel the depression creeping up into my whole body, making me tense all of a sudden. When the kid, whose name is Carter, showed me the picture of Jared kissing another man, I was so shocked I didn't have time to process the thing I was seeing in front of me. I felt the ground crumbled beneath my feet as I continued to watch the single picture. I gulped, not knowing what to do. Usually, I'd know how to deal with things, but that time, I didn't know what to say or, for real, to do. It seemed like I was lost, like, history was repeating again. I tried to get the image out of my head, but it didn't. The kid, Carter, watched me intently with those chestnut eyes and, on the verge of getting angry, I jerked my head towards the door, signaling him to get out of my house before I'd go crazy. My stomach grumbles again and my thought snaps away. The stove is really hot right now and I quickly put the phone and the oil on the pan, then get a bowle, grab two eggs from the fridge, put the eggs in the bowl, then scramble it, putting a little bit of salt. Then I pour the eggs onto the pan and wait for it to be fried. I turn it around using the spatulla then wait for another 15 seconds, then put the scrambled eggs onto my plate. I begin to eat it. I almost yell Jared's name, telling him to get up for school and I've prepared his favorite breakfast, a chocolate drink and Coco flakes. Jared has this thing for chocolates; he's obssesed with it. Sometimes, he'd be strolling towards the house, eating a chocolate. Sometimes, there are wrappers underneath his bed and I would clean it. Sometimes, Jared would be eating chocolate while watching his favorite show: America's Got Talent. And if I grab, just one, he'd glare at me and mumble about being me being a scrawny b***h, taking his chocolate away. Sighing, I put the plate on the sink, then wash it since it's the only plate on the sink. It's better to clean it. Wiping my hands on my pants, I walk back to the living area, then take a seat on the couch. Not really doing anything. Gays make me sick. I hate them. Just the thought of them makes my blood boil; makes my veins throb from what I'm feeling, from what I feel about them. I still can't believe that my son, Jarred, turned gay. Although I don't know how it happened, I just pushed him away. And I guess it's better than hurting him more. He has had enough and I don't want to be added on his list. I head to my—Redina and I's—bedroom and pick the albums that have been hidden since she died. Grabbing the specific album, titled We Are Family, I open it and see the pictures. On the first page, Jared was a baby, smiling at the camera while Redina was babying him. The second picture, beneath the first, was Jared and I, him crying and I was pouting. I flip to the second page and the first picture was Jared on the crib, his hands were closed and up in the air, his mouth was open and curved into a smile. Beneath it, a picture of Redina and I hugging little Jared, the next page is Redina and I giving Jared a kiss on his cheeks, I on the left, Redina on the right. When I flip the third page, a CD falls and lands on the ground. Picking it up, I see it, turning around. On the CD, words say: Jared's first word. I open the DVD player and pop the CD in it, then I sit on the soft, white heavenly king sized bed and open the TV using the remote control. I watch it. On the video was my wife and I, dancing together, laughing happily and genuinely. Redina had this long brown hair; a pair of green eyes; a smile that could make me fall all over again on her; a body of a model and legs that shined like a grand chanderlier. She was tall, near as tall as me, considering I'm 6'6. I was holding the camera, videoing myself and Redina as we continued to dance. We heard a loud cry and quickly ushered to Jared's room. I brought the camera, of course. I chuckle at that, my expression was priceless because my son was frigging crying! When we got there, Jared looked at eyes, still filled with tears and sniffing. He raised his both hands, gesturing us to pick him. When we neared to him, he said, "Mama," Redina and I stared at each other before she freaked out, "Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Have you recorded it? Ha? Ha? Jared just spoke! And the first word he has ever said was mama! Me! He was calling me! Can you say it again baby?" Picking Jared in my arms, I told him, "Jared, say Daddy, please." Giving him a pout, he grabbed it and chuckled. "Dada!" He said and my eyes widen. He just said the baby term for Daddy! Which made me so proud of myself. Jared giggled and patted my head a few times before Redina grabbed him from me and I playfully glared at her. She just gave me a chuckle and kissed Jared on his forehead. Jared laughed. "See, our little Jared is a smart kid!" Redina said, her voice sounded like she belonged in heaven. Which she is right now. "Good thing you got it from me." "Hey!" I protested, giving her a pout and she just shook her head but laughing nonetheless. "You're being unfair. Jared is handsome like me, he looks like me! So he, apparently, got that looks from me." I said smugly, raising my chins up, smirking at her. She rolled her eyes and made a face. I turn off the DVD player as well as the TV. After watching it, I feel lonely and sad again. Jared is not here. Redina is not here. Who is going to help me? I know that I can't do this alone. Feeling it, the tears threaten to come out of my eyes. My brain says pour it out but I can't cry right now. I told Jared that he should be a tough guy, might as well do my own advice. I take a deep, long, reassuring breath and exhale the pain. That works. My phone suddenly rings and I fish it out of my pocket and answer it. It's my friend, Gideon. He tells me about a new client that 'needs my help' so I just reply yes, I totally would help the person. I tell him that I'd meet him at the Starbucks and hang up. Stripping off my clothes, I step into the bathroom and open the shower, letting the cold water hit my body as I rub my body with a vanilla soap. After that, I massage my scalp with a shampoo on my palms then rinse it, still massaging it. When I'm done, I turn into the mirror and brush my teeth. Then I gargle and flash a smile in the mirror. Satisfied, I grab the towel and dry myself. Getting out of the bathroom, I head to my cabinet and pick out a black suit and a black slock. I wear it then straighten the fabric using my hand, running it up and down on my suit. I comb my hair, slicking it back then inhale, then exhale it out. Wearing a black shoes, I head to the garage, where my cars are parked. I didn't get Jared's car because I didn't—don't—want him to walk his way over to who knows where. I enter at my car and open the garage using the remote—perks of it being automatic. I pull off my garage then, in a minute, I'm driving across the long road. Still feeling hurt, I shrug, as if it would make the pain disappear from my chest. Jared is still my son. If it weren't for that guy he was kissing bastard, I'm perfectly sure that Jared was still a straight man. I grip the steering wheel tighter it makes my knuckles turn white. Not feeling it, I drive faster. I don't want any of this to happen. In fact, I want the opposite. Who doesn't? I remember Jared's smiles, laughs, jokes, everything. And it makes me certainly sad. My mood goes down again and I sigh in frustration. He's gay. He's not your son anymore. He's different. He's not Jared. I say that to myself, but still, the ache in my heart doesn't go away. I know, even my heart knows, that Jared, whoever he is, whatever he is, is still my son. And it will never change. I'm sure of it.

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