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Chapter 1: Can’t Hardly Wait

Hunter Todd laid in bed on a temperate spring morning in Chelsea, New York, reviewing the ten-day forecast on his phone. Summer was only a few days away, and he was excited for things to finally heat up after a colder than average season. The middle-aged bachelor glided from the temperature to his dating app, as his early morning erection was reminding him that it had been four days since it received any attention outside of his palm. And though that did the trick in a pinch, Hunter found that his appetite for men was unparalleled in comparison to his peers, most of whom had settled down and resigned themselves to unenviable domesticity. Hunter grappled for years with what he wanted concerning a relationship, and he’s always arrived at the same answer: an infinite batch of fuck buddies lined up around the block.

But this, to put it quite mildly, was not always the case.

Hunter moved to Chelsea fourteen years ago at the request of his Uncle Antony, but he saw it as a way to escape a dead-end marriage and, ultimately, to finally find himself. Polly Harper and Hunter met right after high school and their relationship, while tempestuous, was filled with genuine love and affection. Though it seemed to their loved ones that the young couple was breaking up every other week, the two never remained separate for long and started a family a year ahead of their wedding bells.

There were three pregnancies and four children. By the time Hunter and Polly were nineteen, Megan had come into their lives. The following year, after a health scare, Polly delivered Spencer. It wasn’t that they weren’t careful, because they made every attempt to keep their family small, but the next year the burgeoning family grew by a third when the twins, Nick and Ian, arrived in just that order. The responsibilities were overwhelming for Hunter and Polly: visits to the pediatrician, a seemingly endless rotation of drop-ins from family, trading off babysitting chores while the other parent ran errands, and the countless tasks that came with helping to run a family of six eventually became too much for the father.

On Spencer’s tenth birthday, Hunter began to look for a way out of his marriage. By this time, he considered himself straight only because he was married to a woman. Not so deep down he knew he was gay and practiced it when he felt it was safe to do so. It wasn’t enough for him, but he was feeding his desire to be with men regularly enough to keep himself sane. A string of liaisons in bathroom stalls, bathhouses, sex clubs, and behind bars grew in regularity over the years, all the while Hunter was on the lookout for his freedom.

Was it fate, Hunter wondered, when he was laid off from his job only to receive an offer for temporary employment from his Uncle Antony on the East Coast? After the man’s wife, Carolyn, passed unexpectedly, Uncle Antony was struggling with his modest, yet lucrative, dry-cleaning empire in Chelsea, New York. Typical of their relationship, Polly and her husband fought about Hunter going across the country to help his uncle out for a month. “The money, Pol,” Hunter argued. “The bills aren’t going away. This is just for a month. Then I’ll be right back here, looking for work again. I’ll even send out resumes while I’m in New York.” But not a single resume was sent after Hunter left. One month became three, and after a year it was clear the father wouldn’t be coming home or offering any excuses about the subject. The only thing that made its way back to Hunter’s family was child support and divorce papers.

Life in New York brought a sense of purpose and direction that Hunter had never felt. His Uncle showed the thirty-year-old the ropes, and Hunter proved his competency for running the business right away, allowing Antony to expand his just outside Chelsea after five years. Living with his uncle offered another freedom that Hunter wasn’t expecting when he initially arrived. A parade of men stayed overnight with Hunter and Antony was supportive of his nephew’s lifestyle (“Who am I to judge?” the forty-year-old would say. “Long as you’re happy, I’m good.”).

That was it. Hunter washappy.

Five years after arriving in New York, Antony was on his way home from visiting Carolyn’s grave when he was struck by a car while crossing the street. Hunter felt like his life had crumbled. Was his past behavior finally catching up with him, he wondered? After years of neglecting his relationship with his children, he figured it was time for life to deliver such an unfortunate punch. It came as a shock to learn that his uncle had bequeathed his home and small empire to the nephew who uprooted his life to help the dry-cleaning entrepreneur. The first year was the most difficult, trying to find his footing while working around the clock to keep his world afloat. Hiring his cousin Aaron to help run things helped Hunter from pulling out his hair, which grew a little grayer that year.

Soon enough, business was stable and things were running efficiently, allowing Hunter to resume his regular carousing around town. The man had a reputation, but he saw it as an asset. Nobody expected more from Hunter than a memorable night of passion, and that’s about all they would receive; sometimes breakfast made its way into the deal. The checks continued to his family, increasing appropriately over the years, but he hadn’t spoken to any of his children in a decade. Hunter assumed, since he never heard otherwise, Polly and his children were fine without him.

Then a knock came at the door and to his life.

Until that point, the death of his uncle was unquestionably the most startling event Hunter had experienced. Then he opened the door, in an instant finding himself frozen at the faces staring back at him. They were in their early twenties, these identical men with wavy blond hair, blue eyes, and extraordinarily jacked bodies. It was the eyes that were the dead give away. While he could see different characteristics of himself in the two men, he knew he was staring into Polly’s silver-blue eyes.

“Hey, Dad,” they said in unison.

“I… boys?” Hunter muttered. “I… don’t know what to say…”

“Come in would be cool,” Ian said, smiling.

“We’ve been traveling most of the night,” Nick said.

The young men didn’t step into their father’s home as much as they were yanked inside when he grabbed them and held them close. They eventually had to peel themselves away, at least long enough to find a box of tissues for their glassy eyes. Hunter brought them into his living room to sit, have some drinks, catch-up, and beg forgiveness.

“We’re not angry, Dad,” Ian said. “We just wanted to—“

“Have a relationship with you,” Nick continued. “And we hoped you might want the same.”

“I do,” Spencer said. The moment he saw his boys standing in his doorway, their eyes filled with love, he knew he wanted to be a father to them. “We have two extra bedrooms here, boys. I want you to stay as long as you need. Or want.”

For the rest of the morning, the three Todd men laughed and shared their way through dozens of stories, long and short, to bring each other up to speed on life. Nick and Ian were out of college, both had tried their hands at modeling, with some success; they were also certified personal trainers. Spencer was the most uptight of the four children and did not like the idea of the twins traveling to New York. Every few minutes, the twins received another text from their concerned brother, telling them to come home. As for Megan, she recently split up with her fiancé and was trying to get her life back on track. Polly was going to try her hand at marriage for the third time, which was a constant source of irritation for her children. They shared favorite movies, books, television series, and podcasts, discussed workout regimens, shared their hopes, and expressed their fears. After the conversation twisted on for hours, Hunter finally asked, “What about the ladies? Are either of you dating?”

“You want to take that one?” Ian said to Nick.

“We’re gay,” Nick answered. “We came out to Mom when we were sixteen.”

“Really?” Hunter asked, feeling mildly dizzy from his third scotch. “I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, I think I’m usually good at reading these things.”

Usually, when a man informed Hunter that he was gay, Hunter’s crotch would begin to stir because there was potential for a tryst. A single dad at the gym, a dog walker on Eighth Street, or a lawyer he bumped into at Foragers, were just some of the men who aroused Hunter after they came out to him. And in each of those scenarios, the men found themselves in the dry cleaner magnate’s bed, satisfied to be lying beneath him. While he wasn’t as surprised as when he opened the door to find his twin sons, Hunter was taken aback by the hardness of his cock.

“It’s not a problem, is it?” Nick said.

“No,” Hunter replied, shifting so his boys couldn’t see that his eleven-inch dick was trying to push its way out of his jeans. “Of course not.”

“What about you, Dad?” Ian asked. “Are you seeing anyone special?”

Damn, Hunter thought. His mind was racing toward a dark place, and his conscience was left in the dust. His two wholesome, good-looking sons had been replaced by a pair of breathtaking studs, down to fuck as soon as they got the word. The air around them was an aphrodisiac and Hunter couldn’t stop inhaling it if he tried. Their bodies, thick with muscle, were scarcely covered by thin, distressed t-shirts, Nick in charcoal and Ian in white, which revealed every meaty curve on their athletic frames. They wore their pants low, allowing their shirts to crawl up their flat stomachs repeatedly, showing off enough skin to keep their father’s cock swollen.

“I guess I have something to admit as well, boys,” Nick said. “Your father’s a homo too.”

The twins did a double take. Hunter couldn’t get a read on them. The father recalled his yoga buddy named Glenn handing him an article on Genetic Sexual Attraction a couple of years ago after Hunter admitted he had four kids; this was a fact about his background that he didn’t share with many others. The concept, according to the article, is that some separated family members experience attraction to one another if they meet as adults. “If those boys of yours turn out as hot as you,” Glenn said, “you’ll need to get your restraint in check.” Hunter read the article, but it wasn’t half as erotic as he would have hoped. Though it was typical for Hunter to make the first move, this was a situation where he knew he would need his sons to take the initiative.

“Damn,” Nick said. “We really didn’t know.”

“How could you?” Hunter asked. “Now don’t go falling for your old man just because he sleeps with men!”

After checking his watch, Hunter asked his sons if they wanted to grab an early dinner. Being famished, and a little tipsy, they did. The three men walked through Hunter’s enchanting neighborhood, marveling at the charm of the rows of homes as they made their way to the restaurant. Hunter did most of the talking, letting his boys know as much as he could about each area they passed through. From time to time, he caught the two of them whispering to each other, but he didn’t give it much thought. “Goddamn, they’re handsome,” Hunter thought. His dick wouldn’t go down, which made his walk appear almost clumsy. “Just focus on getting to know your sons, asshole,” he told himself.

“This one,” Nick said quietly.

“What’s that?” Hunter asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Nick replied, appearing mischievous in a way that Hunter recognized. “Is it up here?”

“Just two more blocks,” Hunter answered.

Tapas were ordered after two rounds of drinks at Txikito, and the table’s occupants were the loosest they’d been all day. Nick had his large arms raised wide with his hands behind his head as he leaned back, showing off a million dollar smile. Ian was constantly feeling his muscular frame, from his shoulders to his biceps to his chest to his abs and back again. Hunter soaked in the sight of his muscle-god sons inadvertently flexing for him, resulting in all the blood in his body racing to his groin.

“I think I’m getting drunk,” Ian observed.

“Think?” Nick laughed. “I’m already there. What about you, Daddy?”

“Daddy?” Hunter inquired.

“You don’t like being called Daddy?” Nick asked, in a more serious tone. The smile had all but faded.

“Not particularly,” Hunter said. “Makes me feel old.”

“Fuck no,” Nick said, leaning back a little more. Hunter looked down in surprise. His son’s foot was pressing against his crotch, rubbing up and down. “You’re not old at all. Mmmmm… just look at that body. So virile, powerful. I’ll bet you’ve got as much energy as Ian and me.”

“There’s only way to find out,” Ian added.

“What do you say, Dad?” Nick asked. “You want to have some fun with your boys?”

“We noticed how turned on you got when we told you we’re gay,” Ian stated.

Hunter held his son’s foot in place, pressing his hardened cock against it. “Ready when you are.”

After dropping one hundred and fifty dollars on the table, the three men raced from the restaurant, starved for something that couldn’t be delivered on a plate. Nick pointed Ian and Hunter toward an alleyway, a few blocks in the direction of his father’s home. All agreed that they should head to the nearest spot, as opposed to the most sensible spot.

“Here’s that alley,” Nick said. “Come on, behind that dumpster.”

There were plenty of people walking by, but it was dark enough that the three should be able to get away with it, Hunter thought. “This works,” he said, stepping behind the large container with his boys.

As soon as they were obstructed from passersby, the ravishment began. The shirts were the first things to hit the ground before Ian and Nick pushed their father against the wall, exploring his well-defined frame as their tongues twisted against each other. Hunter unfastened his pants, pulling them down with his briefs. The twins did the same, letting their engorged cocks shove against their father’s.

“Who’s going to suck me off first?” Hunter snarled.

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