I awoke by the sweet and velvety smell of baking. It was Christmas Eve and my mum was getting ready for the party that she and my dad were attending later in the evening. I tried to go back to sleep, but the clacking of pots and pans as well as my mother’s voice, obviously chattering in my dad’s ear while he ignored her by reading the daily newspaper was too much to disregard.

I stirred and noticed that the discomfort of a hard on was still present. Reaching over to the nightstand, I pushed the Play button on my stereo and a gentle whine of Mark Knopfler’s guitar filled the room. As if on cue, I heard heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs, and I hoped it was my mum coming to call me down for breakfast. Just as the sound of rushing feet reached my door, I heard her high-pitched yell coming from the kitchen. “Milo?” she yelled. “Come down, love and have some breakfast!” At the same time the doorknob turned and without knocking my father burst into my bedroom. I wasn’t worried, of course, but I have to admit, I felt very uncomfortable.

“Where have you been last night?” he asked without any introductory politeness of bidding me good morning. He stood in the door, meaty fingers of one hand holding onto the doorknob so tight they turned white, clearly exposing his anguish and probably anger.

“I went to a party.” I said nonchalantly, giving him the most innocent of smiles. “Why? Is something wrong?” I managed to slip a bit of concern into my voice. His love of stringent house rules prevented me from openly mocking him, as I didn’t want to alarm my mum by getting into a heavy argument.

Ignoring my question, he narrowed his eyes as if measuring my truthfulness. “When did you come back?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes as if thinking hard and retracing my steps. If I said I came home while he was still in the house, he would have known I lied and the jig would be up. It’s not like I was afraid, he couldn’t do anything to me for finding out his little secret, but I didn’t want to challenge his notoriously bad temper. “Probably after midnight, I’m not sure. Why, dad?” I asked again, my face a mask of undivided attention.

“There’s been a break in last night.” He lied smoothly, his eyes unwaveringly on me. “The student house.” He said, referring to the house across the street. “I was there checking up on the furnace, so I think I must have scared him off, but I thought you might have seen something.”

“Him?” I asked incredulously. “You saw who it was?”

“Well, no…” I caught him off guard. “I just presumed it was a man, or maybe more than one. I shouldn’t think girls would be breaking into houses in the middle of the night.” His face seemed to relax a little. “So, you haven’t seen anything, you think?”

“Well…” I dragged out the word, and with a yawn averted my eyes from the face that made me feel sick. “I don’t remember seeing anything. I wasn’t really looking, you know. I don’t even know if Emma was still up when I came home.”

At the mention of Emma’s name my dad’s eyes narrowed again and it had taken a lot of strength for me not to crack a smile.

“But all is well now, right?” I asked and plopped back down onto my pillow. As if in deep thought, my dad chewed on his lower lip, his forehead clearing after a moment.

“I suppose so. Nothing seems to have been stolen. No damage done.” He nodded and looked around the room as if searching for anything incriminating. “I’ll have to tell her to be more careful and lock the door when she’s all by herself.”

I nodded and with that my dad stepped out, closing the door behind him. I reached under the cover and squeezed my cock through my underwear, determined to do something about this spot of bother between my legs, which has deprived me of restful sleep the night before.

The door opened again and dad’s face, still plastered with suspicion poked inside the room. “Your mother is calling you to breakfast, Milosh.”

There! Milosh. He obviously didn’t believe my little story. I couldn’t care less. He was the one in trouble, not me and I decided not to feel or show any distress.

“I’ll just take a quick shower, dad. I’ll be down in a minute.” I said and he nodded again, this time leaving the room altogether. I waited for his heavy steps to thump down the stairs and remained in bed until I was certain he wouldn’t return.

A sunray poked through the shutters, tickling my eyes and I was grateful for this promise of a nice day, even though it would probably be a cold one.