“Son,” he said, “You’ve been making sperm for almost a year now, and masturbating for about nine months, right?” How the hell did he know. “I think so,” I responded, between sobs. I stared at Greta, in shock, and even though everything inside me was telling me to look at my father, to see what his reaction was, but I just couldn’t look at him. I had a great adolescence too. And maybe I should have asked a different way.” Then his hands were on my head and he forced me to look him in the eye, “Adam, do you like girls too?” Well, I did. The door was always locked. We sat in silence for a moment, Dad deep in thought, me still scared shitless. In one of those, I noticed that both the guys and girls seemed quite young, barely older than myself. Tell him that I’ve grounded you, if you want, and don’t tell him that I found-out what you’ve been doing.” Then he took a deep breath and paused before going on, “But now, I have to ask you for an almost impossible favor.”
