Date: Sat, 7 Apr 2018 13:12:35 -0500 From: MC VT Subject: My Tiny Valentine (bisexual/adult-youth) My Tiny Valentine ©2017 MCVT November 30, 2017 Divorced, penguinesque dad personally manages son's puberty. A donation to nifty.org ensures a future of great strokes! Donate to your coming pleasure - you know you love it here! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Adult Content: 100% fiction, Mb, inc, self-exploration, ped, puberty. =============================================================== Friday-thru-Sunday fatherhood. "Drive-thru Daddy" time. That's my life. I'm Rod, another part-time parent. Legions of men like me hang out with our kids every weekend at parks, in malls or we're sitting outside arcades watching our part-time kids enjoy themselves. I'm sure you've noticed us - we're the somewhat ragtag army of divorced men buying our kid's a few moments of happiness in the hopes they'll remember us when we're old. We're the ones often wearing downtrodden, exasperated expressions and sporting spotted lint-balled sweatshirts and bleach-splotched jeans. Most of us still wear our hair like we did in high school and are in dire need of a trim if not a complete overhaul in the "personal presentation" department. ... Understand, I don't date. Well, I don't date anymore. I found out soon enough after the divorce women don't want a man with "baggage." Not sure if those women meant an ex-wife and a child, or they were alluding to my physique. I guess I could have lied about being divorced for a quickie; couldn't lie about my odd profile. But I would never lie about my son. Chad was the light in my dull life. He looked like me but smaller - dark, wavy hair and deep brown eyes, wide smile, and dimples. Fortunately, he got his mothers delicate frame and sense of humor. I get my son on the weekends and it's not enough time to know what's going on in his life. I miss hearing all the ups and downs of his young world. My two days of his sporadic interchanges are not enough to really build a solid relationship with him - the back-and-forth of shared custody is like hearing every few word in a song. I can feel the rhythm, but most of the meaning is lost. ... Chad often forgets the details of his days in his rush to manipulate me into taking him to his favorite haunts - like today. I'm waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him to gather his things for another Saturday at the water park. Today I'll sit around the side of the pool avoiding the other weekend fathers, and watching the teen girls in bikinis hired to supervise the crowd of rambunctious kids sliding and splashing in the sun. Cheap thrills behind mirrored sunglasses with a towel and a newspaper on my lap. I'd tried hitting on a couple of the moms, aunts and older sisters tanning while their charges swam, but I'd kinda let my profile slide - it decided to go southward when I wasn't looking and now I appeared somewhat penguinesque, being slue-footed as well. The worst part of my profile my jiggle. I jiggled when I walked; my father's hips. No takers among the females - they seldom acknowledged my comments, but I continued taking Chad. He loved swimming and seemed to be spring-loaded jumping around in the water and bounding up the three-story water slide ladder with the other kids. Rock music, hotdogs, and too much soda - that made him happy. So, the hardest job I had for the next few hours was to keep Chad slathered with sun block every two hours and spring for junk. We'd stop for pizza on the way home, and then he'd clean up and go to bed exhausted. Definitely not the relationship I wanted with my son and it was all I had. ... A big three-day weekend was coming up and I called the ex to tell her I wanted to take Chad to a big amusement park down the coast. Glad I called first. Chad was invited to a sleepover at a girl's house along with a passel of other kids. "You can pick him up at noon on Saturday - I'll send you the address." My ex laughed. "He's doing better than you with the women `Poppy-potamus!'" That stung. "We agreed - no insults!" I hung up. ... My work was sedentary. I managed a lab at a mid-sized hospital where I'd started as a lab tech just out of college. Good job; paid well and I taught Chemistry at the community college two nights a week to build Chad's college education account. Night students are mostly older people, few young cuties there to up their GPA though a little extra-curricular work on my lap. Except for my co-workers and Chad, my life was a wasteland of human relationships. "Poppy-potamus!" Damn, that was mean, but it planted a seed of change. ... At work, I hand-delivered some lab results to one of the doctors on staff and asked if I could speak with her before she left. When we met, I got right to the point. "Need to get rid of a few pounds. I have a young son who's a ball of energy... I want to take him on vacation to the Middle East, it's going to be a real trek... the farm outside of Sulemania - visit my parents. Can't haul all this fat around with everything else..." She smiled and suggested a "lifestyle change." Diet and exercise were the most permanent ways to reduce with the weight. My god, I blushed when I stood on the scale for her. I was well over two hundred pounds and stood a few inches below six feet. We talked for a while and I fidgeted a little - the extra pounds had brought on another issue. Couldn't get fully erect - maybe it was a mental thing. I explained haltingly and with a red face, the difficulty in my boxers. The need to see several big loads of cum jump out the end of a rock-hard, excited erection is a man thing. We're visual creatures. But I hadn't seen that happen in quite a while - I was getting anxious. "When you've lost fifty pounds, we'll discuss it again. You may not need any medication, and there are other options you could explore." She said behind a stack of patient files. She did give me a `scrip to curb the hunger, and suggested a gym close by where I could work out. Then, she gave me low-dose anti-anxiety med from her sample cabinet telling me she wanted me to watch my diet, work out and lower the stress in my life before I got into blood pressure problems. Good enough for a free consult, though I would have eagerly submitted to a prostate exam if she'd offered. As I left I wondered if women could smell my desperation that seemed to flare when I was around them - I'd heard they could. "Put some cologne on the next shopping list." I thought. "And a cold case - that'll kick-start the meds." I mulled. My anxiety over my lack of penile function and indulgent self-pity dissolved quickly in alcohol. "Stop!" I considered my entire situation. Alcohol only added more jiggle to my rear, and that's what I was trying to eliminate! Lifestyle changes were complicated. Now, I had to strategize and buckle down. ... In an effort to avoid exposing my body to the hunks from work at the gym near the hospital, I went to my local public rec center and started working out on the machines with the weights and pulleys. Another guy, "Jace," showed me the tricks of how to adjust the weights, and I was getting into exercising. It felt good to feel my muscles carry a full load again, though I knew I'd be sore the next day. Noticing my almost comical silhouette, Jace suggested my pointing my toes forward when I walked, and standing up straighter. "Never know who's looking - big boy." He grinned at me and wiggled his eyebrows. Genius! ... Mondays and Wednesdays I continued teaching; Sunday night, Tuesdays and Thursdays I pumped, huffed and sweated with Jace, keeping my toes pointed forward though it made my calves achy and did something strange to my hamstrings. I noticed a change after a few weeks and felt better about myself. I felt stronger but a thick ring of adipose tissue still clung around my waist like a pity date on Sunday morning. Perusing the net, I found a full-body plastic outfit - "sweat the pounds away easily." It was silver-colored and elasticized around my ankles, neck and wrists. "Jump start my weight loss..." I figured and sent lots `o bucks online for it. Zipping up the suit, I felt something of a very large holiday leftover - lumpy and wrapped in foil for the frig, but I slept in it every night until it started to stink. The garden hose made quick work of the smell and I decided some cornstarch was in order to ease myself back into it. Bad idea. It turned to white mud, then dried into a crumbly mess and got all over the carpets and furniture - something of a psychotic snowfall in the house after I shook it out. When Chad came over for the weekend, he froze in place when I came out of the bedroom in my foil suit - eyes wide as he deliberated what was going on. So, I told him I was getting ready to join the space program. "This was my training suit. Yeah, that white stuff is - uh, well, super nova dust!" He laughed! Good thing he had a sense of humor! ... Four months later, I was a lot lighter and felt better, but kept my foil wrapper and my workouts with Jace. Still had a gut, and my butt still jiggled and I had to wonder if women liked seeing a little jiggle as much as men do. My weight loss regime was a constant source of humor for Chad, and I let him enjoy his little jokes. He was a curious imp, and his patience with me was unbounded. ... As my attitude about my body improved, I took Chad to the beach after he got out of school one Friday. We stayed in a funky hotel during the off-season and walked the beach looking for shells, then walked the pier to see what the people had caught and wished them luck. There were a few other people on the beach, but not many. I bought him a shrimp sandwich with chips, and then he wanted a chocolate sundae. Iced tea and a few more pills for me. When we got back to the hotel room, I slipped into my space suit and joggers while Chad got his bike out of the trunk and we headed off in the fog toward the water, him riding circles around me most of the time and scaring the seagulls away for my almost breathless three-mile run. Chad broke a small sweat, but laughed and enjoyed himself making bike-tire prints along the shore spelling out his name. It was entertaining to watch him ahead of me, his wispy body pumping the pedals and standing on them for a while, then stopping to inspect something in the sand. His muscles were growing, but not as fast as his bones. He was long and lean, almost skinny with way too much hair. It almost caused a war to get him into the barber's chair. Secretly, I liked his hair long and shaggy - he looked something like a mini-Neanderthal wolf-child. He'd gotten his dark wavy hair from me, and it drew up tightly in the humidity of the air by the ocean. What a natural beauty! Big smile with dimples and smooth skin - the ex and I had made an excellent genetic match. Too bad about the rest, and life goes on. Chad and I stopped for clam chowder to go, and then watched a movie. Lying on the bed, clean and tired and full, Chad reached over to kiss my neck. "What's that for, elfkin?" "I love you." "I love you, too." I kissed his nose - the kid could have been out of a Rafael painting; cherubic with his rosy lips and cheeks. His thick hair ringed his face like the perfect frame for the face I adored. Only eleven years old and a complete charmer - he was going to be a handsome devil. "When are you going to get rid of that foil sweat suit? It stinks." He asked. I explained that I was losing weight and planning to take him to where his grandparents came from. "It's a long flight to Europe, then Damascus, but you can sleep. We'll see the old buildings, the river and the bridge. Wait till you see the big spice market and then the mosque with Saladin's tomb. We'll go to the big bazaar, maybe ride a camel... then go to north - your grandparents want to spoil you for a while." "Who's Saladin?" He chirped. "First Sultan of Egypt, centuries ago." Saladin required some explanation, but Chad was into the military history so I told him about and Saladin's exploits on the battlefield. Running my fingers over Chad's stomach, laying out the map when Saladin met Richard the Lionhearted, I explained about the crusades. "And, yeah, Saladin was Kurdish, like us! A very great man - smart as all get out." Chad was enthralled with the story about the dawn attack from the east and the strange details about the horses and the doctor. "Are you going to wear your smelly space suit on the plane?" I had to laugh. "Hope I won't need it anymore. I may meet a dark-eyed beauty with a big smile and who might date a man with his own seraph." I winked at him. "Sounds like Mom before you guys split." He said. "Yeah, well that's over, and I'm moving forward." I hugged him close. "Would you like a second mom?" "Depends on how fussy she is." He snapped back. "You and Mom arguing again?" I asked. "She's always harping on me - I make messes." He looked up at me. "Can you tell her to calm down? "Is this about that green slime again or is it the bubble gum?" "My sheets are spotty sometimes, and my underwear... Dad, tell her it's not my fault. It comes out by itself." I casually picked up my phone and called the ex. After a few verbal amenities, and with Chad listening, "You got to cut the kid some slack. His body is growing up. Let his body do what it has to do. Small inconvenience - and perfectly normal - and it's going happen a lot more often so get used to having a man around again. Looks like puberty caught up with him." She calmed down, but gave me an order. I had to give Chad the short course on his impending manhood. "Yeah, yeah. Yeah, I'll talk to him about it." I held the phone out so Chad could hear and rolled my eyes. "If you take care of the laundry, I'll take care of the other issues." I hung up and hugged Chad close. "Women love men's bodies, and getting attention from us. They like that! They like kissing and touching them, but they don't understand that penises are like pressure-relief valves." I reached down to his scrotum and rubbed it through his pajamas, "Always in production - have to keep the supply fresh and we have to keep the pressure just right." Chad looked up at me and smiled. "Guess so." ... After breakfast, we packed the car and stopped in a large department store. We found to the grooming products and located the hygiene products I felt we needed. Chad and I sniffed until we were dizzy finding a "manly" deodorant. I picked out several kinds of soap us and we went to another aisle for some colored briefs without any cartoon characters on them. Chad wanted the slick, cool fabric with no opening in the front - rather sophisticated for a pre-teen, but I approved without comment. Chad wanted a jock strap. I didn't know they made them that small, but we found a package. In miniature, but the same as mine in every detail - that enthralled me. I'd have to inspect it thoroughly after he tried it on just to make sure it fit correctly. Keeping my excitement at bay, I suggested we buy him new swim trunks, and we found a stretchy and rather skimpy pair. He wasn't sure about revealing so much of himself until I told him he might be able to try out for the swim team when he was older. "This kind makes them speedier in the pool." Then, I found some special powder for his sneakers - even I would have complained about the smell if he weren't my son. He refused socks. He picked out several cotton bandanas to use as cum catchers. We got gel for his hair and had his hair styled on the way out. Good-bye curls, hello mini-rock star. My guy tucked some of his new stuff into his rucksack grinning and we left. ... Back at home, I explained about shoe powder, and to use the deodorant when he was clean - all the important points of smelling good. "Never know who's sniffing..." I told him, remembering Jace' advice. Then I inspected his face for whiskers while he laughed. Of course, I took his shirt off and felt then looked closely under his arms. He thought that was a joke and continued laughing as I kissed and tickled. I was delighted with this parenting duty - his body had the most wonderful musk - very different from a man, but enchanting. No hair yet, but his little muscles and tendons were absolutely fascinating. His skin was smooth and his slender, straight body could have been used in a textbook as the perfect boy with a magnificently rounded butt. "Now, let's inspect the general's headquarters." I tugged at his jeans. I looked for pubic hair; none. We had a few words about keeping the sensitive areas clean. Of course, I had to make sure his foreskin moved easily, and was rewarded with a beautiful, straining erection for that effort. My fingers had to give his little scrotum a squeeze and move it around a little under the guise of looking for hair or crud - that's when a stronger whiff of boy musk hit my nose and I swooned but pulled myself back together quickly. "Soap and water at least once every twenty-four hours - more often if you've been sweating. This stuff is cheap, and we'll keep plenty under the bathroom sink so you don't have to ask your mom for anything. This is our man-business, okay?" Chad nodded and arranged the toiletries the way he wanted, while I sat on the side of the tub and watched him. "That's our guy-stash." He told me. He was proud, and that made me feel good about helping him resolve the delicate issue of body changes with some dignity and a lot of affection. With a blue camouflage-print bandana in one hand and a spot of lotion in the other I explained about how to masturbate so he wouldn't make a big mess. "The objective is to please yourself and release some of that pressure that builds in your testicles - constant production. Remember? Got to get rid of some of that semen - not much storage space down there." He nodded his head, and then I realized that I hadn't asked him if he masturbated, he only admitted to wet dreams and a little leakage in his briefs. "Chad, do you rub your penis when it gets hard?" I lifted his face with a finger under his chin. He lowered his eyes. "Yeah." "Do I see my son blushing for being normal?" He still wouldn't look at me. "The problem isn't you. The problem isn't your body. The problem is you simply don't know what's going on. "Now. Nothing wrong with you and nothing wrong with masturbating. Just another part of your life - like keeping your toenails trimmed, but feels a lot better. You understand?" He still wouldn't look at me. ... I asked Chad to explain to me about the lessons in his health classes at school - and he talked about hand washing, vaccinations, showers and bowel movements. Sketchy material and not much about his fluid production, masturbation and nothing about an orgasm. In that moment I realized he didn't have a clear road map to the destination of manhood. "I'll show you the rest of the information, would you like that?" He looked over at me and nodded - still somewhat embarrassed about his body growing rapidly and feeling somewhat out of control. Then, I remembered my half-erections and wondered if I could create anything like a clear pathway out of his boy-sized wilderness. My teaching materials still weren't dependable. Forging ahead, I called his mom and told her I'd take him to school in the morning. Then, I took him to the bathroom and told him to strip down as I undressed. "We're going to join the four-point-three billion men who are jerking off right now. Yep. All around the world, hands are stroking erections and feeling good right now - presidents, five-star generals, teachers and students. All kinds of men and a lot of boys tickling their poles when we do." I moved him quickly into the shower and let him watch me soap my groin. Then, I realized he couldn't see too much over my droopy gut. Neither could I. "Soap up, and let your hands tell you where it feels the best." I suggested. His eyes were on my groin, waiting for more instruction and I could feel it wasn't going to happen; no tumescence and no electricity between my testicles. "Of all times..." I gritted my teeth and decided quickly to use Chad's equipment for the example. So, I put my soapy hands to his groin and began rubbing his penis. That charming erection was about as long as my thumb, but responded robustly. His little twitches defined his pleasure clearly. Irregular breathing, a few soft, odd sounds then his ears turned red. "Is that good?" I asked. "Yeah." Chad's eyes were unfocused as he enjoyed my hand. I leaned over and kissed his nipple while my other hand fondled his tiny testicles. Within less than twenty strokes, his hips hunched and his eyes squeezed shut. He breathed a several hard breaths as his boy-orgasm waned. Pulling him against me, "Perfect orgasm, did you like that?" He kissed my neck. "Oh, yeah." "That's your duty to masturbate and learn to enjoy your body. Alright?" He nodded. "Keep your bandana under your pillow - cum happens!" ... I had sugar-free gelatin salad for dinner and watched Chad devour two burgers and fries. "Are you going running tonight?" He asked. "We'll go to the park and back." That was my local three-mile jog. "Yea!" Chad actually put his burger wrappers in the trash and took his glass to the sink, jumping around as if someone had lit his fuse. Then went and got his bike out and parked it on the porch, ready to go. As we left the driveway, Chad asked if we could shower together again. "We'll see how smelly we get." I remembered my "iffy" erections. He stood on the pedals of his bike with his butt cheeks tensed and disappeared down the hill while I chugged along the sidewalk concentrating on keeping my toes pointed forward. About half way to the park, I was thinking about our earlier shower and his pleasure. My penis started swelling as I jogged along. I had no way to cover my surprising but delayed reaction to showering with him and rubbing his cocklet. So, I picked up my speed and felt the strain in my thighs, but I made it to the park and home with an anxiously twitching erection needing immediate attention. If this would last, I'd show him a manly jerk-off. Hot thoughts pushed me up the drive and into the house quickly. ... Chad came back in the house full of energy. He bounded up the stairs and I found him in the bathroom, ready to shower. He stood naked, grinning at me, his erection full and bouncing. "Okay! Okay! I'm coming." Couldn't keep up with the kid! In the shower, he handed me the soap. I handed it back, needing his touch, but constrained by uncertainty and a potential shaming. The word "incest" was flashing like a neon bar sign at midnight somewhere inside my head. "Fathers can teach sons, and they not supposed to do sexual things with them, so you show me what feels good to you." He grinned and soaped himself. I pulled him close to my side and watched. It only took a few strokes until his torso jerked and he closed his eyes. Those were the most beautiful moments I'd ever seen - my son pleasing himself. His little lips opening and his narrow, straight body jerking with the pleasure of release, well, his droplet. I kissed his head and reminded him that his pits could probably use some soap as well. I was so erect I thought my corpora cavernosa would explode. He didn't wash, but looked at my groin and grinned. "Your turn, Dad." All the luck of the universe concentrated around my groin. My tool did me proud. I had to hold my belly to the side, but I was rushing to orgasm fast. I felt heat shooting up my erection too soon. "Oh. Nnng." I grabbed his hand pulling it toward my glans then shot a big load onto his face and chest, and then finally I hit his palm. After so many years of leaking a little, it felt good to feel seven or eight hot rushes come out while I gasped and moaned. Now I was grinning - and I felt incredibly powerful and satisfied at the same time. "That's a lot!" Chad was smiling. "You'll do that soon enough..." I was still trying to catch my breath. Two very happy men soaped and scrubbed and shampooed together and left the shower quite satisfied. ... We watched a movie that evening, but didn't see much of it. Chad was "clingy" and wanted to sit on my lap and give him some more affection. He told me about some of the things in his sixth-grade world and I listened carefully. Being somewhat shy, he was often the target of the more aggressive students. Him being so slender didn't help his situation, though his body was maturing at light-speed. I made a few suggestions He didn't want any kind of martial arts classes, "Dad, I'd get in more trouble if I use it. They'll send me to jail." Then, he wouldn't hear any more of it. I suggested a tattoo of a lunging tiger or lion. Nixed again - but he laughed and said it was silly. Sadly, he told me he felt alone, sometimes because his mom was always working and leaving him with an elderly neighbor lady. That made me feel bad, but not bad enough to go back to his mom. "Do you want to go with me to the college? You can sit in the back of the room and do your homework, and stay with me for the night." He nodded and flashed a grin with those heavenly dimples. "I'll work it out with mom." Stroking his hair, "When you don't tell me how you feel about things, I don't know how to help you." ... He got wiggly and moved on my lap, straddling my thighs, and leaning on my belly with his head on my shoulder. Those thin, smooth arms wrapped around my neck and I was so grateful I'd made this child, though the relationship had been something of a trial with the ex - my life was finally improving. "Tell me some more about how to feel good and keep the pressure right." He almost whispered. Holding him against me, I thought about what I could say to help my boy and remain a decent father... "Do you ever rub your nipples?" My hand slid under his pajamas and I tweaked and pinched a nipple tenderly. "Feel good?" I felt his eyelashes on my neck and his head nod. "When you get older, your girlfriend's gonna suck them - feels fantastic." My arms came around him and I pulled him hard against me. "Feeling another person's skin is wonderful, warm and their smell is so good. I love the way you smell, especially in the morning while you're still in bed." I tucked my hands inside his pajama bottoms. "Men usually like someone to touch them right here." My fingers found his anus and I rubbed lightly. It was so small, and delicate and very warm. "Like that?" He breathed in a jerky, deep breath and nodded. Reaching further, I patted and stroked, then massaged between his legs; Chad gasped, and then made a humming sound pressing his face into my skin. "If you want to rub yourself to feel good, do it in private. That's personal business." I advised. I could feel his erection poking me, so I reached over further between his legs and tugged his scrotum, feeling his almost almond-sized testicles tightly held against his groin, and for some reason I recalled marzipan, nutty, sweet candies my mother always gave out on Valentine's Day. "My tiny valentine." I thought, and I wanted to grab his scrotum with my lips and see how sweet his skin tasted on my tongue - to examine every tiny fold and wrinkle on his tiny, pale-pink sac. Couldn't help but wonder if his little testicles moved around yet - probably not. He whispered he wanted me to rub his ass again, so I whispered to him to bring the lotion and I'd rub his sweet butt but this one time only, "This is a lesson, so only tonight." When he got up, I noticed my full, hard erection under my belly. "Damn, I'm getting liposuction and skin removal; this lifestyle shit isn't working fast enough for me." I thought. When my spider monkey-cum-angel came back he straddled my thighs, I pushed him away a little. "When I rub your ass, you stroke your cock. Let's see what that feels like." I kissed his nose, and he touched my face, feeling my rough stubble. Then, he leaned over to kiss my nose! He opened the jar of lotion for me. With a fingertip full of the sweet-smelling lotion, I smeared it along his cleft and watched his face. He grinned. "More, Dad." He closed his eyes and leaned back while I gently massaging his tight sphincter. "Relax and let me put my finger inside you." Then I leaned forward and ever so gently began sucking a tiny, dark nipple. I felt his body shiver in a mini-tremble. When his fingers touched my face again, there was a sudden surge of pre-cum in my shorts. He pulled my lips hard against his chest with his hands in my hair. As my finger pressed into his ass, my lips pulled on his nipple harder. Chad's chest jumped with an irregular breath, and I reloaded my finger with lotion and pressed my little finger deeper. Very slowly and much deeper. Knowing it was a foreign and uncomfortable feeling for a few moments I stopped and told him to put some lotion on his erection. "Start rubbing your erection, slowly and lightly." I wiggled my finger inside his rectum. "Tell me if it hurts." I and gave him a quarter-inch twist to tickle his anus. His eyes widened and those cherubic lips formed a small circle in surprise. His delicate, white hand grasped his erection; the other massaged his scrotum. "That's right, keep going." All motion stopped a few moments later. My finger stroked along the inside wall of his rectum. I felt along the slippery wall, searching for the miniscule bumps of his growing glands under the pad of my finger. Then, I hit his sweet spot causing him to inhale quickly. "It's good?" I asked, smiling. Chad was making little whining noises and had a frantic look on his face. His jaw dropped open and his eyes were wide looking into mine. "Stroke," I told him. "I'm waiting for you." He looked down at his glans and started stroking; I rubbed along with his rhythm pressing slightly harder with each upstroke. Couldn't help myself, I grabbed a tiny nipple in my teeth and whispered, "Cum for me - hurry." His hips hunched and his glutes tensed, then he made several soft moans. His body stayed rigid for a few moments while I felt his sphincter contract around my finger twice. A Chad-sized orgasm happened on my lap and around my finger. Incredible sensation and I tried staying still, but I was breathing fast. I pulled his head against my chest and kissed his hair while I slowly pulled my finger out of him and massaged his anus. I'd shot a full load of boy-induced semen in my briefs and could feel it rapidly cooling into glue in my pubic hair, and I would gladly take care of that later to watch my tiny valentine descend to earth after his enjoyment. On the end of his penis stood one shiny droplet of liquid. I smiled and swiped my finger through it and brought it to my lips. "Virgin nectar." I thought. "That's what men do!" I told him and smiled. Though this was a normal bodily fluid oozing from an innocent and unknowing child, I found myself immediately addicted and more than inquisitive about Chad's physical pleasures. How a son maneuvers through puberty is a father's responsibility, not a lesson with coloring pages issued from the school district - but a divine decree. Yes, a spiritual directive. Though I'd never heard of or experienced the ritual, it must be true - it seemed so natural. My thought processes changed in that moment; Chad's body became the center of my universe. His increasingly intense levels of pleasure were of utmost importance to me, and this was mine. Who else knew his body better than the one who made it? ... That night, we stayed close together for a long time until Chad calmed down completely. He kissed my neck again and again, rubbing against my chest until I lifted his chin and kissed his lips lightly. His breath moved my chest hairs and I noticed his lips were close to my nipple. Another erection was rapidly forming, unsticking my pubic hair, briefs and erection. That was an unexpected and somewhat uncomfortable rush! I bit the inside of my cheek for a moment, not wanting these moments interrupted by anything other than our reciprocal pleasures. While I rubbed his toes with the lotion, admiring how tiny each little nail was, he told me he liked my tummy. "You like my fat?" I asked distractedly. "It makes you soft and comfy. Don't make all of it go away." "Only for you..." I thought, but steeled myself to remove all barriers between us - the fat had to go in order to get closer to my son. He needed to understand the bliss of a well-given blowjob... Fin.