Like Father Like Son

Alan Dwight

alantfraserdwight@gmail.com

When I was 10 I was totally blindsided by my parents’ divorce. I’d never heard them argue or say anything which might lead me to think there was conflict between them.

But one morning, Dad said to me that he was moving out. That I would see him often but he wouldn’t be living with us any longer.

I was distraught. I cried and cried, hugging him and begging him not to go. But he did.

I told Stefan right away. Stefan and I were the best of friends. We had known each other since preschool. We visited each other’s homes and we knew each other’s families.

He was sympathetic, as were his parents, but we all realized there was nothing I could do about it.

Three days after Dad moved out, Jack moved in.

I hated Jack. He was everything my dad wasn’t. He was big, loud, and scornful. He didn’t care about my feelings and soon I didn’t care about his. Of course, Jack wasn’t really my parent, but he became my stepfather, and we had little use for each other.

Mom, as far as I was concerned, was a loveable airhead, rather vague and sometimes off in another world. I guess I loved her, but I didn’t have much respect for her.

When Mom wasn’t around, Jack called me names. Once when I was 10, he said I was just like my father.

“Good!” I said, “because I love him, but I certainly don’t love you!”

He slapped my face, hard. “Don’t you ever talk like that to me again. I’m the man in this house and what I say goes.”

I learned my lesson. I never did talk that way to him again. We settled into an uneasy truce, but I continued to hate him and I never trusted him.

As for Mom, I never forgave her for bringing Jack into the house. Mom had inherited a great deal of money, and I believed ─ no, I knew ─ that was the reason he had come.

The divorce seemed to happen quickly. I wasn’t consulted. I was told that I would visit Dad every other weekend and every Wednesday after school.

When Mom and Jack married, I didn’t go to the wedding although Mom wanted me to. I just made myself scarce when it was time to leave.

The first weekend when Dad picked me up, he said he wanted me to meet someone. I wondered if he had found a replacement for Mom so fast. Well, he had and he hadn’t.

We parked in front of a well-maintained one-storey house. The green lawn in front showed that Dad was continuing his love of working outdoors. There were a couple of men working on the roof, which Dad said was being re-shingled. We got out of the car and walked to the front door. Dad opened it and said, “Dan, I want you to meet my husband, Derek.”

I stood, staring, my mouth open. Standing in front of me was the biggest man I had ever seen. I tilted my 10-year-old head up as far as I could and saw him smile. He squatted down, took my hand, and said, “I’m so glad to meet you, Dan. Your dad has told me what a great kid you are.”

Looking at Dad I asked, “You’re queer?”

“Dan, we don’t use that word here. Yes, I’m gay, and Derek and I are married. I hope you’ll learn to love him as much as I do.”

I was doubtful, but I decided to give him a try. After all, he couldn’t be as bad as Jack, could he?

I shook Derek’s hand and said, “I’m glad to meet you, I think.”

He and Dad both laughed. I did like the apparent vibe they had together.

Dad led me into a bedroom and said, “This room is yours. You can decorate it any way you want.” Hanging on the back of my door was a white terrycloth robe which I assumed was for when I needed to go down the hall and use the one bathroom in the house.

Dad continued, “There are clothes for you in the dresser. If they don’t fit, we’ll get some more. Derek and I want you to feel that this is your home. I know that all this will be a little confusing, but I think we’ll all adjust.” He put my suitcase on the bed and said I should unpack whatever I wanted to keep at his house.

I didn’t want to keep just clothes at the house; I wanted to keep myself there. But I knew that wasn’t what the divorce court ordered. As I sat on the bed, I wondered if I could bring Stefan sometime. Would his parents agree to him being in a house with two gay men?

To celebrate my being with Derek and Dad, Derek cooked our dinner that night. I had the best lasagna I’d ever tasted. As we ate, we got used to being a trio. I learned that Derek had a great sense of humor and that he was caring and kind. Dad pointed out that Derek could cook really well.

“Thank God,” I said, knowing that Dad couldn’t, and we all laughed.

That night I slept the best I had in a long time. I wasn’t worried about Jack and what he might do. I was with two men who pretty clearly loved each other.

I spent Sunday with the men as well, until it was time for me to go to my other home. I was wearing some clothes that Dad had bought for me. I took my suitcase and the clothes I had worn on Saturday back to what I began to think of as “Mom’s house.”

The first thing she asked me was about the clothes I was wearing. She wasn’t happy to hear that Dad had bought them.

Jack asked, “So how did you get along with the queers?”

I stared at him and said, “We don’t use that term. We say ‘gay’, and I got along with them very well.”

“That’s because you are one,” Jack said.

Mom was clearly not pleased with what he said. “He is not,” she told him. “I should know. I lived with one for 13 years.”

I asked to be excused and went to my room. My 10-year-old feelings were all mixed up and I didn’t know what I was supposed to think. I didn’t know whether I was, as Jack said, queer or not, but I did know I was much more comfortable at Dad’s house than at Mom’s. I dreaded spending so much time with her and Jack.

Stefan was a budding artist. He took classes at the art museum after school, and I thought he was really good. For my 11^th birthday, he gave me a self-portrait which was a remarkable likeness. I hung it in my room. The next time I visited him, he had a portrait of me hanging in his room.

At school on the Monday after my visit to Dad’s house, I told Stefan I had to talk with him, alone.

“Why don’t you come to my house after school?” Stefan asked. ”Mom and the girls will be home, but we can find a private place.”

At lunchtime, I pulled out my phone, called Mom, and told her where I’d be, although I wasn’t at all sure that she cared.

Stefan and I walked to his home, which was only a few blocks from our elementary school. As we walked in the front door, Stefan called, “Mom, I’m home.”

His mother came into the living room from the kitchen and hugged Stefan before she said, “Hello, Dan,” hugging me too. “This is a nice surprise.”

Stefan and I went into the kitchen and fixed ourselves a snack. We were joined by his sisters. Jennifer was eight and Melanie was seven. We chatted with them for a few minutes before Stefan and I carried our food and cans of soda upstairs to his room. He shut the door and we sat on his bed, eating our snacks. He turned to me and asked, “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“You remember the divorce agreement, giving Mom custody of me but arranging for me to visit Dad on alternate weekends and every Wednesday?”

He nodded.

“Well, this last weekend was the first time I was with him since he’d walked out the door. We drove to a nice little ranch house and he introduced me to a man he said was his husband.”

Surprised, Stefan asked. “His husband? He’s queer?”

“They don’t like that term. They use the word gay instead.”

“Wow,” he said. “That was unexpected.”

“You’re telling me,” I said. “I had no idea.”

Then he asked, “Do you think they’re having sex?”

“I know they are,” I answered. “Saturday night, after I’d gone to bed, I could hear them moaning and even shouting.” We both giggled.

In the following weeks, whenever I visited Dad and Derek, I took a few of my belongings with me. The first thing I took was Stefan’s self-portrait.

As I was hanging it on the wall in my new bedroom, Derek came in, looked at the portrait, and asked, “And who is this handsome boy?”

I told him all about Stefan and he said, “If that’s a self-portrait, you have a very talented friend.”

For the next two years, I visited Dad and Derek whenever I could. I grew to be very fond of Derek.

One Friday when Stefan and I were 13, Mom told me that she and Jack were going out on Saturday to celebrate their anniversary.

“Do you mean I’ll be alone?” I asked.

“Yes, but you’re old enough to take care of yourself.”

“Can Stefan come and stay with me?”

“Will you two behave yourselves if he comes?”

“Yes, Mom,” I said, involuntarily rolling my eyes.

“I guess that would be okay if his parents agree.”

Apparently, his parents thought we were old enough to care for ourselves, because they agreed.

So Saturday evening, Stefan and I stood in the kitchen to say goodbye to Mom and Jack.

Before Mom and Jack left, she leaned over me, expecting the mandatory peck on the cheek, which I reluctantly gave her.

“Bye, Sweetie,” she said, planting a kiss on my forehead.

Then she and Jack were out the door, leaving me and Stefan to ourselves.

“Bye, Sweetie,” Stefan mimicked, knowing I hated the name. “What next?”

I looked in the fridge and took out some eggs, cheese, and veggies and whipped up omelets for the two of us. Eggs were one of the few things I could cook. Fortunately, the only thing I liked about Jack was that he could cook, because Mom certainly couldn’t.

While the eggs were cooking, I got a couple of glasses and poured some milk.

We sat at the kitchen island, devouring our food. We were in a hurry, because we both knew what was going to happen that night, although we didn’t know any of the details.

When we finished eating, we washed the dishes, put them away, and without saying anything, went upstairs to my room.

I don’t know about Stefan, but my heart was beating fast like I’d been running a race. We were both 13 almost 14 and had been friends for eons. We had both been jerking off for over a year, but this would be the first time we did anything together. Not that we didn’t want to before. It was just that we could never be sure of being alone. At his house we were always worried that his sisters or his parents would walk into the room. We knew that I had almost no privacy in Mom’s house and Stefan had never been to Dad’s house. Now we were alone, and we planned to make the most of it.

In my bedroom we both stripped down to our underpants, leaving our clothes in piles on the floor. I told Stefan to use my bathroom while I waited.

When he emerged having peed and brushed his teeth, I could see from the bulge in his underwear that he had boner. I didn’t hide the fact that I had one too.

I went into the bathroom, peed, brushed my teeth, and put some deodorant in my armpits.

Back in the room, Stefan was already in the bed. I noticed his underpants on top of his other clothes on the floor, so I stripped off mine, dropped them on my pile, and climbed into bed beside him.

We lay on our sides facing each other. As always, I admired his blue eyes and untamable, dark brown hair. He had cute dimples in his cheeks, and his lips, which I thought were sexy, were bow-shaped and a little red. For a few moments we lay just looking at each other.

Finally, he asked, “Dan, can I kiss you?”

We had never discussed kissing, but it seemed to me like the right way to start. I pulled closer to him, our lips met, and a shiver went up my spine. The kiss was gentle and delicious.

As we kissed, we began to rub our free hands lightly up and down each other’s arms and then our shoulders and backs. I loved the feel of his skin, so smooth and warm.

We broke the kiss and he asked, “Do you know about frenching?”

“You mean with tongues?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s do it,” I said, and with no more words our mouths met again but this time our tongues explored our lips and then plunged into each other’s mouths.

As my tongue moved all around in his mouth, I again felt a tingle run up my spine, almost like a little shock.

I hugged him, running my hands up and down his back and loving the feeling of his hands on me.

As his hands roamed all over my body, he gently pushed me onto my back. He sprawled across my chest and then silently moved so that he was lying on top of me.

My excitement grew. My heart was beating so hard I wondered for a moment if I would have a heart attack.

We hugged each other fiercely, and I could tell that his feelings were mounting like mine.

I rolled him over so that I was on top of him. I could feel his boner on my stomach, and I knew he could feel mine.

We both began making noises, grunting and moaning ─ungh, ungh, oooh─as we grew more and more impassioned.

I could feel that wonderful sensation in me rising inexorably and I knew he was feeling the same.

We began grinding on each other, harder and harder, and groaning ─Oh, oh, ungh ungh─as we moved.

My tension continued to rise until I reached that peak of excitement just before I climaxed.

Then I came, my cock pulsing over and over as we both shot at the same moment, crying, “Ungh, ungh!” We throbbed and throbbed as we pumped our cum between our bellies.

I leaned down and kissed him again, hard, as he raised his head to respond.

I rolled off him and lay beside him, spent and totally satisfied.

“Oh, God,” he said, “I didn’t know it would be that good! It was so much better than jerking off!”

“Yeah,” I said.

We lay side by side, the cum drying on our stomachs.

It may be that we dozed off for a few minutes, but soon we were facing each other again, and beginning to kiss.

He reached down and took my privates in his hand, gently rolling my balls and then rubbing my cock as I did the same for him. In no time, we were hard again. I was a little surprised that it happened so soon, but we were certainly willing.

We embraced, kissing and tonguing and rubbing each other all over. God, I loved his body.

“Shall we?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said eagerly.

He again climbed on top of me, hugging and kissing me and grinding for all he was worth. I felt that thrilling excitement inevitably rise again as we both moaned and moved against each other.

Higher and higher the passion rose until we again exploded, grunting and yelling from our ecstasy.

When we had finally relaxed, he rolled off me and we lay facing one another, each with a hand on the other’s back.

We fell asleep that way. I don’t know about Stefan, but I know I had wonderful, erotic dreams that night.

When I awoke, I looked at my clock and saw it was only a little after six. I was still facing him with my hand on his back. I pulled myself to him and gave him a gentle, firm kiss on his lips.

His eyes opened. He looked confused for a minute, as though he didn’t know where he was, but then he smiled and said, “Good morning, Loverboy.”

“Good morning,” I said.

“Do you want to do it again before we get up?” he asked.

“Yeah, but we’ll have to be quiet. I suppose Jack and Mom are home.” Of course, I knew that when they had sex they were anything but quiet, but I wasn’t yet ready for them to know about me and Stefan.

This time our loving was gentle yet still very satisfying and fulfilling.

As the excitement stirred in us, we breathed harder and harder, and by the time we climaxed, our fervor was again as high as it had ever been.

When we came down off our high, I suggested that we take a shower together. Stefan grinned and nodded, and we walked into my bathroom together, holding hands.

I got the water as hot as we could stand it, and we stood facing each other, kissing. We rinsed the dried cum off our stomachs and washed each other’s backs. While we had both sprung boners, we left them alone except for washing and drying them carefully.

When we’d dried ourselves off, we went back into my room and dressed. I stripped the sheets off the bed and took them and the towels down to the washer, where I threw them in, added soap, and turned the machine on. I had done my own laundry for several years after I tired of waiting for Mom to do it.

Days later, when we were in Stefan’s bedroom, he asked, “Dan, do you think you’re gay, like your dad?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s something you can inherit, but I guess it’s possible. I just thought I was feeling really sexy and I never thought of doing it with a girl. What about you?”

“Oh, I think I am,” he answered. “I told Mom, but she said I was too young to decide that, and I was probably just going through a phase. To be truthful, though, I’m not sure she’s right. Ever since I was five, I’ve known that I was different. I’ve got no interest in girls, and I love what you and I did.”

“Me, too,” I said.

“I want to show you something,” he said, and he led me over to his desk, where he switched on his computer.

He tapped a few keys and a screen came on. It was divided into rectangles and in each one there was either one or a pair of naked men.

“Is this a porn site?” I asked, fascinated.

“Yeah,” he said.

“I thought you couldn’t go on those until you were 18.”

“You’re not supposed to, but how do they know? They ask you for your age and I just lied, telling them I was 19. There’s no way they can check that.”

He clicked on one of the rectangles and the screen changed to a video of two men, sitting on the side of the bed and kissing. They began to undress each other and when they were both naked, one of them took the other’s cock in his mouth and began to move up and down. By the time the program ended, I had seen oral and anal sex for the first time and I had the hardest boner I think I’d ever had. I’d never even thought of anal sex before, and I’d always thought a blowjob might be disgusting.

“I don’t think I’m ready for those,” I said.

“I’m not either, but maybe someday . . .”

By then we were both hard, but we didn’t want to do anything when his mom and his sisters were in the house. We did hug and kiss a bit but kept our clothes on.

According to the divorce decree, I was to have every Wednesday with Dad, so after school that day I looked for his car.

When I got in, he asked, “So, how was school, Dan?”

“Okay, I guess. Nothing special. I do have homework tonight, though.”

“Well, you can do that at either house, whichever you want.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Okay. On Monday after school I went to Stefan’s house. We looked at a porn show in which two men were having sex. One of them shoved his pecker into the other one’s ass. Is that common, Dad?”

He was silent for a moment. “Dan, I’m not really happy with you looking at porn. I know it’s possible and I know a lot of boys do it, but it’s teaching you things you really don’t need to know yet. Those are grown men you’re watching, not 13-year-olds.

“But to answer your question, I’ll say yes it’s quite common among adult gay men.”

“Are you mad I looked at the porn?” I asked quietly.

“No, but I think it would be better if you stayed away from it for a while.” He was quiet for a little and then asked, “Are you and Stefan having sex?”

“Only once so far,” I said.

“’So far’ means that you intend to do it again?”

“Yeah, when we can get some privacy.”

“Well, you can invite him to our house whenever you want.”

I was amazed at the offer.

“But,” he went on, “we should find out first what his parents would think of him sleeping over in a house with two gay men.”

“What if he just came for the day?”

“I still think it would be wiser for us to tell them.” He thought for a few moments. “Maybe we could invite him and his parents to come for a cookout. They know me, but they’ve never met Derek.”

“That would be great,” I said.

“If Derek’s okay with it, I’ll call them and invite them for the next weekend you’ll be here.”

“Super!” I said happily.

On Thursday I told Stefan what Dad had suggested. He was as enthusiastic as I was.

That night, I lay in bed fondling myself and hoping that soon Stefan and I would be in my bed at Dad’s house.

Within a few days the Jacksons accepted Dad’s invitation. On the appointed Saturday, Dad picked me up early and we drove to his house. Derek and I greeted each other like old friends.

There was a brick grill in the backyard. We took a picnic table out of the garage and placed it near the grill. There were already several chairs and a table with an awning on the patio.

The Jacksons arrived about 5:30, having been invited for cocktails before dinner.

Derek immediately went to Stefan and said, “So this is the famous Stefan I’ve heard so much about. I’ve admired the self-portrait hanging in Dan’s room.”

Stefan positively beamed.

When all the introductions had been made, the adults sat on the patio. Dad made cocktails for the adults, while the Jackson girls kicked a soccer ball around and Stefan and I went inside so I could show him my room. I had moved some of my other possessions to the room, including my computer, which sat on the desk, and some of my books, which occupied a bookcase Dad had bought for me.

“What do you use for a computer when you’re at your mom’s house?” he asked.

“Derek gave me a laptop which I use there.”

“This is nice,” he said looking around as we sat on the bed. “Which house do you like better?”

“Oh, I’m much happier here,” I said. “Here I don’t have to contend with Jack, and I love Dad. I think I’m getting to love Derek too. He’s really, really nice.”

“I can tell,” Stefan said.

When we went back out to the backyard, the parents were still on the patio, but Derek was grilling steaks. The mouth-watering aroma made my stomach rumble.

On the picnic table there were bowls of salad with lettuce and veggies and a potato salad as well as silverware, cups, and napkins. Dad and I brought out bowls of green beans and carrots.

Derek called us over to the picnic table where we all sat as he served up the steaks. We passed around the salads and the vegetables, and everyone dug in.

After my first bite of steak, I looked at Stefan who was looking at me. I’m sure we looked like idiots with such happy expressions.

“This steak is wonderful,” Stefan said.

“I’ve never had one so tender and juicy,” I added.

Derek smiled.

We were all silent as we enjoyed the scrumptious meal.

For dessert, Derek had baked two pies ─ apple, and lemon meringue. Heavenly!

After dinner the girls went back to playing while Stefan and I stayed at the table with the adults. Dad poured cocktails for them and, after asking permission from the Jacksons, even produced small glasses of wine for me and Stefan.

Sitting down, he said, “So Dan was wondering if Stefan could sleep over some night. We know you might have some reservations about him being in the house with two gay men, so I want to say a couple of things.

“We know there is a perception out there that all child molesters are gay and all gay men are child molesters.”

Mr. and Mrs. Jackson looked at each other.

“I want to assure you that that isn’t true,” he continued. “Yes, Derek and I are gay, but we are totally committed to each other and neither of us has any interest at all in boys. Stefan would be as safe here as he is at home.”

“I’m a little concerned,” Mrs. Jackson said, “because Stefan’s told us that he’s gay. I think he’s too young to make that decision, but he insists he’s not.”

“I’m not too young,” Stefan interjected. “I know how I think and how I feel.”

“How about you, Dan?” she asked.

There I was. On the spot. I thought a moment or two before saying, “I’m not really sure yet what I am.”

“Would you and Stefan want to have sex together?” she continued.

“Mom!” Stefan protested. “That’s not fair!”

“I think it is,” she said. “Dan?”

I’m sure I was blushing as I looked down at the table.

“You can be honest, Dan. It’s okay.”

Finally, I said very quietly, “We already have.”

“When I stayed over at Dan’s house,” Stefan said.

I blessed him silently for rescuing me.

She looked surprised, but then she nodded. “Can my husband and I take a little time to think about this?” she asked Dad.

“Of course,” he said.

“We’ll call you within a few days,” she said.

And that was the end of the conversation. It interested me that Stefan’s father had said nothing but had clearly followed the conversation closely.

On Monday, Stefan told me that his father had taken him aside and told him that he’d experimented with sex with a boy when he was about our age. He said he didn’t think it had done any harm. He said that he had told Stefan’s mom about it. He knew that boys our age experimented and he thought Stefan would be much safer with me than with some boy they didn’t know. Stefan said his mother was still thinking.

On Wednesday, when I was with Dad, he took a call. He listened for a few moments and then said, “Thank you for your confidence in us. Can we set it up for a week from Saturday?”

He listened again, said, “Thank you,” and hung up.

“It’s a go,” he said to me. “Stefan will be here the next Saturday you are.”

I cheered and hugged him. “Thank you so much!” I blurted out.

I celebrated that night by jerking off as I pictured Stefan naked and recalled the feeling of his soft, smooth skin and the taste of his mouth.

On Saturday, Dad picked me up and we went to get Stefan. As we drove back to Dad’s house, he said, “Boys, you have our permission to do what you want, but I hope you will use some discretion and not get carried away.”

We promised that we would, but it was almost torture that we felt we needed to wait until bedtime. I really wanted to drag Stefan into my bedroom and get naked as soon as we got to the house, but I knew that would not be a good move.

Stefan and I spent Saturday afternoon watching college football with the men. Then Derek left us in the living room to begin supper. That night he served some very tasty pork chops with our choice of vegetables. For dessert he produced hot chocolate sundaes. Yum.

We hung around on the patio after supper before I said I was tired and Stefan and I went to my bedroom. There were now two terrycloth robes hanging in the room.

We stripped and put on our robes before going into the bathroom.

With both of us there, the room was a little confining, but we managed to brush our teeth and pee before going back to my room.

As soon as we got in the room, I pulled off Stefan’s robe.

“Unfair,” he said.

He pulled mine off. “There,” he said, grinning. “Now we’re equal.”

He stepped towards me and we were soon kissing and stroking each other, our tongues doing their dances in our mouths.

Eventually, I broke our embrace and led him to my bed. We lay on our sides facing each other and moving our hands up and down each other’s backs. Then without saying anything, we began to rub each other’s chests and stomachs.

He found my left nipple and squeezed it gently. I hadn’t experienced that before, and it was a new, wonderful sensation.

I did the same for him. He moaned appreciatively.

Before long he was on top of me, our rigid cocks side by side, as he moved up and down on my body. The grinding soon had the usual effect as the tension began rising in me. The feeling rose and rose until I was very close to climaxing.

Then he stopped.

“Why did you stop?” I asked.

“Because I thought if we cooled down a little and then started again, we’d prolong the feeling before we shoot.”

Soon we were grinding again, and again he stopped just before I got to the ultimate explosion.

The third time, he pressed his body down on me and began grinding. Soon my body reached the point of no return and erupted over and over as he too exploded.

“God, I’ve missed that!” I said as he lay back beside me.

“Me too!” he said.

He leaned over and poked around in the cum on my stomach and in my belly button. Then he put his finger in his mouth. He returned to the pool of cum and then put his finger in my mouth.

I had never thought of tasting it, but it was pleasant and slightly salty.

I produced a cloth from under my bed and wiped both of us off.

It had been weeks since we had first come at Mom’s house, so this first climax was not the last one that night.

By the time we finished our third climax we were both exhausted and we quickly fell asleep.

We slept late in the morning.

When I awoke, I could smell coffee, so I knew the men were up. I kissed Stefan which woke him up. We hugged and kissed for a few minutes before we got up, put on our robes, and went into the bathroom.

I got some towels and soap while Stefan turned on the shower. It was a little tight for two, but we didn’t mind our bodies touching as we soaped up our fronts and then each other’s backs. It didn’t take long for us to get hard again, but we wanted to save our energy for later.

After we dried ourselves, we put on our robes although we had some difficulty keeping our hard cocks from poking out.

We dressed and went out to the kitchen for breakfast. Derek was making French toast, one of my favorites.

Since it was Sunday and Stefan and I would both be heading home soon, we went into my room after lunch for what we said would be a nap.

Well it was, but not until after we’d come to another heated climax.

We slept for a couple of hours before Dad knocked on the door and said it was time for us to head home.

After we dropped Stefan off, agreeing that we’d get together again in two weeks, I asked, “Dad, is there any way we can get my custody plan changed? I’d really much rather spend more time with you and Derek.”

“And Stefan?” he asked as he grinned and I grinned back. “I’ll look into it,” he said, “but your mother may not agree.”

On Wednesday he told me that he had filed for a change of custody with the court. “That’s all I can do,” he said. “We’ll see if your mother contests it.”

As it happened, she decided that going through all the rigmarole of hiring a lawyer and fighting in court was just too much. I think she had just grown tired of having me around.

Dad and I appeared in family court, the judge listened to Dad and to me, and by the time we left, Dad had total custody of me.

We drove to Mom’s house, got the rest of my belongings, and I moved permanently into Dad and Derek’s house.

That night I called Stefan and gave him the news. After that, we were able to spend much more time together. Stefan’s parents could see how happy he was, so they were willing to let him visit often.

From time to time Stefan brought new paintings to the house until the living room walls were almost totally covered.

Did we love each other? I didn’t know. I knew that Dad and Derek loved each other, but I wasn’t sure about us. Stefan and I never used the word with each other. It was enough that we had a happy relationship.

Years later, I met a man and for the first time I thought I really understood love. We lived together for the rest of our lives.

Stefan was fine with that. He too found someone, also a man. Occasionally the four of us got together.

I now love a man, but I will always very fond of my first partner.