When Dad got out of Prison-Part 1

My early childhood was a pretty happy one. Mom, Janice, was a housewife and my Dad, Hank, worked on the Railroad as a conductor. We had a nice house in the suburbs of Houston, Richmond, and even though Dad was gone 3 – 4 days a week he always had time for me. My name is Bobby and I was their only child and yet I wasn’t all that spoiled. I had chores to do and I took my role as “man of the house” while my Father was away very seriously. My parents both beamed at my maturity and self-reliance.

Since we only needed one car and the house was modest but in a great neighborhood my Father was able to pay the 30 year mortgage in 10 years. I was twelve when we owned the house free and clear. It was 1972. This meant that my Mom could trade in her 8-year-old Pontiac station wagon for something a little more modern. My parents decided on a Ford Torino. It was pretty cool for those days and would later be made famous in the TV series Starsky and Hutch. (I had the hots for Starsky, he reminded me of my Dad, from the moment the show came on the air…but that’s another story). Dad also owned his family’s home in Dayton, Texas. His parents left it to them when they died in a car crash in the mid-sixties. The house was on a 5 acre piece of property set off from the main road. There was a gas station/garage in front of it right on a main road. It had all been closed up once his parents were gone but Dad never had the heart to sell it.


This story is a work of fiction. All characters are older than 18. They have fun having gay sex. If gay sex is not allowed in your country, you should consider moving to another one. The characters are not having safe sex, please use condoms while exploring your sexuality. As always, I look forward to your comments and suggestions. Thank you for choosing to read my story and I hope you enjoy! You may contact me at gaynerdy2014@gmail.com , also if you have your own story. Please send to this email gaynerdy2014@gmail.com , or click SUBMIT YOUR OWN STORIES! at the top right corner of HOME SCREEN. Also, If you include your name. I will give credit as due, otherwise, it will read as – Read By: Bobby Newberry. THANK YOU for helping to build Gay and Nerdy Archives Library of Erotic Stories and more. Note: We do not own these stories, only share. If you believe this story should not be here. Email gaynerdy2014@gmail.com and explain. If so, we will fix this mistake. Don’t forget to check out our New Adult Toy StoreStore link: Gay Nerdy Toys.


My parents became pretty much like all parents did in the mid-seventies. They threw their Friday night cocktail parties in our finished basement. It had dark wood and a built-in bar with a billiards table. The theme was basically fake Spanish. Or as I like to remember it “excess Spanish”. Complete with gold glass lamps and green crushed velvet cushions on thick dark wood benches. And off to the side there was a guest bedroom complete with privacy and its own bathroom. Let’s just say that the bedroom got used as much as the rest of the basement did during their cocktail parties. Usually by more than just two people. Yep, the seventies was a time to explore one’s self, my parents seemed to be doing a lot of exploring.

The drinking was usually only contained to the social gatherings. My Dad had a beer or two while working on the yard but never really went beyond that.

The seventies brought something else along with it. Cocaine. And my parents were always the best hosts. Providing a little something extra at their parties was just polite. By 1975 beyond the booze and the sex there would always be a little bowl of powder at the end of the bar with the tiniest little spoon. The bowl was usually empty by the next morning but the bedroom was full.

My parents tried to shield me from their parties as much as possible and would make sure I was in bed by 10 pm before things really got out of hand. Even at fifteen I would be faking sleep by ten. By midnight I would throw on a pair of shorts and go into the back yard and peak in the basement windows with the bushes as my cover. My favorite window was the bedroom window of course where I got to watch all the action going on. Fueled by drink and cocaine the party goers were getting it on with whomever decided to come through the bedroom door. And the action wasn’t limited to opposite sex pairings. Three, four or even six people in a bunch on the bed exploring each other like it was their first time.

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As far as I can tell Mom only entered that room very rarely and usually was paired off with one or two people. She wasn’t much for the cocaine either. Explaining why her inhibitions were not as lowered as the rest of the guests. But Dad on the other hand. When he dove in he dove in the deep end. Men, Women, it didn’t matter and he made a stop at the bowl at the end of the bar as much as anyone else did if not more. My old man would be up till six in the morning sometimes having sex with who ever wanted to till everyone was spent.

The next day things were always very quite around my house. Party attendees would always be gone by eight am and my parents would sleep the day away. My Mom always somehow made it up to their bedroom upstairs on the second floor but Dad never left the basement usually till Saturday evening after he woke up. He would usually just pass out naked wherever the last sexual encounter was. This, of course, gave me chances to satisfy my curiosity and check my Dad out pretty well. Once he was out there was no waking him for hours. Dad was about 5’10″, 180 lbs with olive skin and muscular. He had a medium hairy chest with a treasure trail to his groin and hairy legs. His cock was full and thick with low hanging balls. I would gaze at him for a long time but never touch. I was too damn scared.

By 1976 or so the parties were winding down and were not as well attended as they had been in the past. But other things were changing too. My Mother was becoming very angry at my Father all the time and my Father seemed to be zoned out and nervous most of the time when he was home. I found out later that the cocaine had become a bit of a habit with him. His drinking was very under control almost non-existent at this point. But the coke was another matter.

One night, fueled by coke, my Dad had enough of Mom being a bitch to him and he stormed out. He was pretty high but not drunk. The next morning we got a phone call from jail. Dad had an accident and he caused another person in another car injury. The injury was not life-threatening but it would take a while for the person to heal. To make matters worse the cops found a baggy of cocaine on the seat next to my Dad.

In 1976 the war on drugs had not made its way into the mainstream yet but there was still stiff penalties for possession. My parents had enough money to get a good lawyer. Dad was looking at a 4 year sentence with 10,000 dollar fine. The lawyer got it reduced to a 2 year sentence with 2 years probation and 5000 dollar fine. His fee of course was about 5000 dollars.

So right after my 16th birthday, and soon after my Dad’s 35th birthday, my father was sent to the state prison for his two-year sentence. Six months later, not being able to “cope” with a husband in prison, my Mother filed for divorce. He did not contest it from jail. She got the house and the car and as soon as the divorce was final a new husband. A widower from down the street that used to come to the parties.

I was only able to write to my Dad as the prison was too far away and my Mother refused to make the trip. It was the worse two years of my life. And living with my mother, who had since become a devoted Christian, was becoming hell for a teenager. I counted the days till my Father’s release.

When I was 17 I had a part-time job and was able to scrap enough money together to buy a 1972 Pinto. It wasn’t the best car around but it was cheap and it got me around. Mom pretty much controlled when I was able to drive it and where.

A few weeks after I turned 18 and about a month before I graduated I got a letter from my Dad that would change my life. He was being released in about a month. Right after my graduation and unfortunately he would miss it. He said he was going to go ahead and live at the Dayton house and try to open back up the gas station and work as a mechanic like his Dad did. He couldn’t get back on at the railroad now so this seemed logical. He also asked me if I would come up and see him and maybe spend the summer with him. Dayton was about 65 miles away and I would have to leave when Mom wasn’t around because I knew she wouldn’t go for it. She didn’t trust my Dad anymore but I wrote him back right away and said I would do my best to be with him over the summer. In four weeks I would be on my way to Dayton, Texas.

Written By: Bobby Newberry

Picture: Google+

More to come! Let me know what you think and don’t hesitate to comment me ideas of what you’d like to read next. Thanks for reading, I hoped you enjoyed it.

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Video Title: Daddy and his boy.

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