Date: Tue, 04 Dec 2018 20:06:50 +0000 From: eightxsixat14@protonmail.com Subject: Is That The Milk Chapter 6 This work contains intimate sexual acts between men and boys for the purpose of erotic fantasy. I do not condone such acts in real life. In fact, I support all laws that outlaw such acts. If reading such material is illegal where you live, or if you personally find it offensive, please do yourself a favor and do not read any farther. Don't forget to donate to Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. is-that-the-milk-6 I went into the master bath with my left hand filled with my now cooling cum, trembling from the power of the orgasm that Orson, my 5-year-old son, had just given me. My thoughts were many as I watched my thick, pearlescent jism swirl around the basin before disappearing down the drain. I couldn't remember when I last had an orgasm quite that intense. I was shocked to realize that John's attempt to treat Orson's phimosis had turned into one of the hottest sex experiences of my life. Seeing the awe in my son's eyes when he saw his daddy's substantial, erect cock for the first time, and watching him wrap his small hand around the shaft was, well, hot as hell; there are no other words for it. And then to watch and, of course, feel him play "Hide the One-Eyed Monster," in effect jacking me off, was hotter than hot. I haven't cum so fast with so little physical stimulation since I was a teenager and John seduced me. But that is another story. I was angry at myself for letting things evolve as they did and scared of what the consequences could be if anybody were to learn about it. Why did John so expertly lead Orson and me into a situation in which Orson eagerly, and with great delight, jacked me off? Was that his plan from the beginning? And then telling Orson that my semen is "Daddy's Milk", well, what was that all about? John had some explaining to do. Somehow, while rinsing the cum off my hand and cock, I got my t-shirt wet, so I removed it, took it to the laundry room, and returned to Orson's room in only my stocking feet. I had been gone maybe 10 minutes, and I was concerned as to what other nonsense John might have fed Orson while I was out of the room. As I entered, there was John, bare-chested and in the process of slipping his slacks and underpants off. "What the hell?" I said, clearly puzzled and with rising irritation. "Good, you're back, Brian. We were waiting for you," John said. "And calm down, for Pete's sake. This couldn't possibly be going any better. We've shown Orson how a normal foreskin should work, and we've shown him that stroking a penis is very pleasurable. It's time now for steps 3 and 4 of our treatment plan. First, we need to show Orson the limitations of a circumcised penis," said as he pointed at his rapidly thickening cock, "and second, to give Orson his first orgasm. To give him pleasure like he has never known it before, so he will want to jack off, er, masturbate and stretch that tight foreskin." Turning to Orson, he continued, "You want to see the complete head of your one-eyed monster someday, don't you Orson?" "Yeah," Orson replied, excitedly. I stood there stark naked except for my socks. I was conflicted and confused. I clearly felt that John had already gone too far, but he was a pediatrician after all, and therefore knew better than me how resolve my son's problem. He loved Orson as much as I did. So, I said with renewed confidence, "Well, we've gone this far. We might as well complete the lesson. This is on you John," I said pointedly while reaching for my pants, "At least let me get my pants back on first." "For Christ's Sake, Brian, set your pants down and sit on the bed next to Orson." We don't want Orson getting the idea that there is something wrong with nudity, do we? You don't mind if your Daddy is naked do you, Orson?" "No, I like you naked, Daddy." Feeling chastised, but still not sure that was the best course of action, I tossed my pants aside and sat down next to Orson. With his circumcised cock leading the way, John walked up to Orson. His cock was now hard as steel and pointing slightly above the horizon. I have always thought it to be one of the most beautiful cocks I had ever encountered. Except for the lack of a foreskin, it was perfect in every way; it was about 6-1/2" long and 5-1/2" in circumference, with a helmet-shaped cockhead and a pronounced coronal ridge. I had lovingly and passionately sucked that big, beautiful cock a thousand times. Looking at it, my cock stirred. Not wanting Orson to see it hard again, I crossed my legs in an attempt to hide it. Incidentally, when John and I measured the size of our cocks, some time back now, we did so the correct way, i.e., holding our erections straight out at a 90-degree angle from our bodies, we placed a ruler on the top surface of our cocks and pressed it into our pubic bone until it could go no farther. We then took the true measure. You can wildly increase the length of your cock by pulling it to one side and measuring the length on the stretched side, or by lifting your cock upwards against your belly and measuring the length on the bottom surface of your cock. Here, you can get almost any length you want, for the root of the cock passes backward through the ball sac. There is no clear place to stop the measurement, so it is very easy for a man to falsely state the length of his cock. Men do that all the time and it pisses me off. When a man tells you his cock is 8", you can usually count on it being no more than 6", which is a good length, so why lie about it? While I am at it, the proper was to measure the thickness of a cock is to wrap a cloth measuring tape around it. But I digress. Where was I? Oh yes. John said, "Orson, do you see a difference between my cock, er, my penis, and your daddy's? Noticing for the first time that my cock was hidden, John said, rather harshly I thought, "For Christ's Sake, Brian! Uncross your legs, will you? We have a lesson going on here." So, with reservations, I opened my legs, revealing my semi-hard cock. "Stand up, Brian. Stand up here next to me." Resignedly, I did as he asked. "That's better," said John. "So, Orson, do you see a difference between my penis and your daddy's? Silence while Orson studied our cocks. You see that your daddy has a foreskin and I don't. Right?" You have played with your father's penis and seen how the foreskin almost covers the head of his penis. Now, see mine. I have no foreskin. Here, Orson, put your hand on my penis." I watched as Orson excitedly wrapped both fists around his uncle's cock, with the piss slit pointing directly at his face. It was intensely arousing seeing my 5-year-old son eagerly grip my lover's powerful cock in his tiny hands. Of course, his fingers could grasp no more than two-thirds of its girth. With each beat of my heart, my cock rose more and more, though I thought it not possible after such a powerful orgasm only 20 minutes or so earlier. "Now, Orson," said John, "try hiding my One-Eyed-Monster in its cave." Orson tugged and tugged on his uncle's cock, but of course, John being circumcised, Orson could barely move the skin on John's rock-hard shaft. Orson looked puzzled and tugged harder. "Whoa there boy. You tug any harder and you are going to hurt me." John continued, "Now, Orson, hide your daddy's One-Eyed-Monster like you did before." So, Orson let go of his uncle's cock and grabbed a hold of my now fully erect cock. He easily moved my foreskin back and forth over the head of my penis. "You see, Orson," John said, "Your daddy has a foreskin and I don't. When I was a baby, my parents had my foreskin cut off." At that, Orson winced and frowned, but he didn't let go of my cock. "As you get older, you will discover than many boys don't have foreskins because they were cut off when they were babies. Your mommy and daddy were smarter than most parents because they did not want you to lose your foreskin. You can have more fun with your daddy's penis than with mine, because you can move his foreskin up and down the shaft and you can't do that with mine. To give me pleasure, you have to put a lotion on my penis, and that can be messy. It is much better to have a foreskin. I could treat your problem by cutting off your foreskin. But your daddy doesn't want me to do that. He wants me to teach you some exercises that will stretch your foreskin, so eventually, maybe in a few months, you can pull your foreskin back, so you can see the head of your penis. You don't want us to cut off your foreskin, do you?" "No," he responded with a shout, while gently stroking my raging hardon. "Do you want us to teach you how to stretch your foreskin, so you can have one like your daddy's?" "Yes," again said with a shout. "Well, good then," John said, "Sit down Brian and let's get this show on the road." Orson kept a firm grip on my cock as I sat down on the bed. John sat to my left on the edge of the bed, and he asked Orson to let go of my cock and stand sideways between his, John's, bare legs. You could see the disappointment in Orson's face as he let go of my cock. John backed Orson up against his left thigh, and with his left hand on Orson's tiny waist, he placed his right hand on Orson's cocklet and balls. He told me to watch carefully so I would know what to do next time. I watched as he gently manipulated Orson's balls, penis, and the surrounding skin surfaces. I might remind you that except for our socks, we were all still naked as the day we were born. "I want you to get a boner now, Orson. Do you think you can do that for us?" asked John. "I guess," Orson replied, staring at his 5-year-old penis that John was still massaging. As we watched, his cock slowly rose until it reached full staff. I don't think it took more than 30 seconds. "Ah, good boy, look at that, a very impressive boner for a 5-year-old boy, and I should know, because as a pediatrician, I've seen boners on quite a few boys your age." "I bet you have," I said under my breath. John ignored me. Orson looked proud as a peacock. Was Orson's cock big for a boy his age, I wondered? I had no idea. It was probably as big as my little finger. As John began to slowly and gently stroke Orson's penis to bring him to orgasm, I noticed that John's fully erect cock was touching Orson's right wrist. At that same moment, Orson reached out with that hand and began stroking John's balls and fully erect cock. I watched, lustily I might add, as my lover stroked my son's little cocklet while my son played with my lover's magnificent cock and balls. It was fucking hot, and for a moment I had a vision of my standing up and putting my cock in Orson's sweet mouth, with his left hand playing with my balls, all while he continued to fondle John's cock and balls with his right hand, and while John continued to jack Orson off. But, as fast as the vision entered my head, I chased it away as perverted and sick. "Does that feel good, Orson?" asked John. "I'll be very careful not to hurt you. This should feel really good, and pretty soon you will start to feel something you have never felt before, something really wonderful. You will like it a lot. You may at first think that you have to pee. But trust me, you don't have to pee. When you get that feeling, that means you are about to have an orgasm, a really strong incredibly wonderful feeling, just like the feeling you gave your daddy." At that, John looked over at me, then at Orson, and said, "You know, your daddy should be doing this. Here, Orson, move over between your daddy's legs." I was taken back by this development. I was mesmerized watching my beloved brother-in-law and lover jacking off my son and intrigued by his description of what Orson was soon going to feel. I know some boys find their first orgasm frightening because they have no idea what to expect or what is happening to them. John was preparing Orson, so that he could enjoy his first orgasm as much as possible. I scooted forward a bit spreading my legs to give Orson room, hanging my balls over the side of the mattress while my fully erect cock stuck straight out. Orson stepped between my bare legs and assumed the same position he had between John's legs. I cupped his left buttock in my left hand and tentatively reached out with my right hand and gently grabbed the shaft of his cocklet with my thumb, index and middle fingers, and began stroking it, mimicking as much as possible John's stroke and timing. It was fiercely hard and pointing directly at his nose. "Does this feel okay, Orson?" I asked. "I don't want to hurt you, I just want you to feel pleasure." He was looking at my cock and balls as he said, "It feels good, Daddy, really good." And then he reached over with his right hand and cupped my balls in his hand as he had his uncle's. I flinched at the touch, but quickly relaxed and enjoyed every second his hand spent lifting, lowering, and gently squeezing my balls. "Uncle John says this is where you make your Daddy's Milk," as he lifted my balls in his hand as if assessing their weight. There was that "Daddy's Milk" term again. I hadn't had a chance to ask John why in the world he assigned that term to my cum. I was anxious to find out why he told Orson that, as well as what else he might have told Orson during my brief absence from the room, but this didn't seem to be the time to ask him. I would, however, find out before the evening was over. "Yes, Orson," I responded, "all daddy's make milk in their balls. You will someday make milk in your balls too." At that he dropped my balls and grabbed a hold of my rigid and dripping cock, and said, "I really like your big penis, Daddy, can I give you pleasure too? Can we play Hide the One-Eyed Monster again? I want to see your Daddy's Milk again. Please, please." John chuckled at his question. I looked over at John and said somewhat cryptically, "You may have released another kind of monster here that I am going to have to deal with." To which John replied, "One that I would love to deal with." I understood his meaning, of course, at least I think I did, but I was still in a daze as to all that had transpired, and trusting that John, as a pediatrician and Orson's doctor, knew what he was doing. Speaking to Orson, I said, "We only played the one-eyed monster game, so you could see how a normal foreskin moves back and forth over the head of a penis. You are going to be having so much fun playing with your own one-eyed monster that you won't want to play with mine." "Oh, Daddy, please," he begged, "yours is funner cuz it's so big," and he began to stroke my cock, hiding and unhiding my 'one-eyed monster.' "Please. Please." I ignored his comment. By this time, John had gotten on his knees to Orson's left and was closely watching the action. Orson looked over at John's still raging hard-on and said, "Daddy, your penis is fatter than Uncle John's." John and I chuckled at his keen observation. "Yes, we know," I said. Then John got serious for a moment, and said, "Orson, you know that everything that has happened today between you, me and your daddy has to be a secret. You can never tell anybody that you saw and touched our penises, that we touched your penis, and that you saw your daddy's penis shoot out some Daddy's Milk, okay?" "Okay, I won't tell nobody," Orson replied, as if that was the most obvious fact in the world. "Anybody," I corrected. "Anybody," Orson parroted back. Wanting to quickly move the conversation in a different direction, I said, "You know your Uncle John and I love you very much. We want you to someday have a penis like mine where you can see the entire head of your one-eyed monster, where you can let him completely out of his cave. You would like that wouldn't you?" "Yeah," he said, as he started to act agitated. "It feels funny, Daddy," said excitedly as he started dancing on his toes, making it harder for me to continue jacking him off. But there was no way I was going to stop now. "I have to pee. I have to pee," he shouted, involuntarily tightening his grip on my erect cock. "No, you don't, Sport," John quickly interjected. "I told you it would feel like that. Now just wait a minute and you will have your very first orgasm, and it will be wonderful." John no sooner got that out of his mouth, when I felt Orson's penis swell slightly in my fingers, and get even harder if that was possible, and then it contracted tightly toward his abdomen as he experienced his first orgasmic contraction. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he bent his knees, twisting from side to side, and uttering guttural sounds that I couldn't begin to reproduce. I have to tell you guys that it was exciting to share with my son his first orgasm, and to know that I was responsible for it. This may sound strange, but it was a truly beautiful father-son moment, and I have no regrets. I'm thankful to John, for creating that experience for both Orson and me, for it never would have happened without him. As the intensity of Orson's orgasm began to wane, John picked him up and placed him on his back on the bed, and I spun around and laid next to him, cradling his head in my left arm, and stroking his entire body very gently with my right hand and kissing his forehead, cheeks, and neck. I was so in love with my boy right then. I do believe that the little guy nearly fainted from the intensity of that orgasm, for his limbs jerked spasmodically for a minute or so, and his eyes remained closed for a long time as his breathing slowly returned to normal. The ringing of a cell phone broke the magic of the moment. I recognized John's distinctive ring as he jumped up and pulled the phone from his pants' pocket. "Hello, this is Dr. Malloney. I understand. Of course. I should be able to be there in about 15 minutes." As he returned the phone to his pocket, he said, "I have a patient in the hospital that needs me right now. Sort of an emergency. I do believe, however, that we have accomplished our objective for tonight. Brian, can I talk to you for a minute before I leave?" Reluctantly, I pulled myself away from Orson and stood up. "Orson, you just lay there and rest a minute, okay? I want to go talk to Uncle John for a minute. I'll be right back, okay?" "Okay," he responded sleepily. John grabbed his clothes but pulled me out of the room before I could pick up mine. We stepped down the hall and out of earshot when John suddenly pulled me into the guest bathroom, threw his clothes on the floor, and locked the door behind us, all in one move. He embraced my naked body and kissed me passionately. "That was so fucking, hot, Brian. I've never witnessed anything quite like that. My patient can wait. I've got to get off before I explode. I know this is unusual, but it will only take a second. I'm ready to blow. Please, Sweetheart," said as he put his hands on my shoulders and gently urged me to drop to my knees. "Sure, of course," I said, "but this does have to be fast. He will be out of that bed in a minute and wonder where we are and what we are doing." And I quickly took John's magnificent cock into my mouth and throat. He was hot indeed, for within 30 seconds he shot his load, filling my mouth to capacity. Sucking that beautiful man off was always one of my greatest pleasures. I swallowed his load, and as I stood up, my cock was at full mast. John, still breathing heavily, grabbed a hold of it, and looking me in the eye, he raised his eyebrows questioningly, wordlessly asking me if I wanted him to take care of it. "No, John, no," I said. "I'm fine. I've got to get back to Orson and you must get to your patient. But, please, stop back by here on your way home. What just happened between us and Orson is monumental. It frightens me. We have got to talk about it. Can you do that? You have a key. Just let yourself in. I will probably be in the family room with a tall drink, trying to digest all that happened this evening. We really do need to talk, John. I'm going to be a wreck until we do. "I know," said as he proceeded to get dressed. "I don't know how long I will be at the hospital though. It could be 1 hour; it could be 3 hours. I just don't know." "That's okay. I guarantee you, I won't be asleep. By the way, why in heavens' name did you tell Orson that cum was called "Daddy's Milk? You could have just called it semen, you know." He simply winked at me a bit mischievously and said that he would explain that later. As John finished putting his clothes on, he said, "Listen, you should jack Orson off at least once a day for a week, and then I'll check in with you to see how things are going. He should be ready by then for us to teach him how to do it himself. Of course, he may try to do it on his own before then. But, to cure him of his phimosis, there is something you must do as you jack him off. Use long strokes on his penis so as to stretch the foreskin tight on the downstroke but be gentle when you first start. As his orgasm approaches, you can increase the force of the downstroke in order to increase the tension on the foreskin. Whatever you do, don't cause him any pain, or he will simply refuse the treatment, and we will be back to square one. When you can feel the pulses of his orgasm, you can increase the strength of your downstroke. You know how when you are cumming you can withstand more pain than at any prior moment? You know how I can bite your nipples as you get near orgasm and you find it pleasurable, but if I bite them that hard when we first start to have sex, you find it painful and not the least bit pleasurable? Well, that is what I am talking about. You can be much more forceful pulling the foreskin down away from the head of his cock when he is having an orgasm than at any other time. It is by doing this every day over a number of weeks that we will eventually cure his phimosis. Understand?" Indeed, I did. It seemed like a rational, albeit highly unorthodox, plan. John left and I returned to Orson's room to see how he was doing and to put my pants back on. My erection had subsided some but was swinging heavily as I entered the room. Orson was sitting on his heels in the middle of his bed, still as naked as the day he was born, fiddling with his erect penis. When he saw me, he got a big grin on his face and while bouncing up and down on the bed, he said, "Daddy, that was awesome; can we do it again?" Reaching for my pants which were on the floor, I said, "Do what again? It's just about your bedtime, Orson. What is it you want to do again?" My question was serious, because we had done quite a bit, and I was curious to know just exactly what the 'it' was that he wanted to do again. "I want to play 'Hide the One-Eyed Monster' with your penis again. I want to see it shoot Daddy's Milk again. Please, Daddy, then I will go to bed. I promise." "Oh, boy," I thought. John has indeed unleashed another kind of monster here, as I feared he might. Pulling on my pants, I said, "Your Uncle John wanted you to play that game, so you would see how a normal foreskin can be pulled back, so you can see the entire head of the one-eyed monster. That was just a one-time game, son. Boys, you know, aren't supposed to play with their daddy's penis. And you mustn't ever tell anybody that you played with mine. That could get us into a lot of trouble if anybody were to know what we did. Only you, me and your Uncle John can know what we did. You do understand that don't you?" "Yeah, Daddy, I won't tell nobody, uh, anybody, but please, can we play the monster game again. Please, please with sugar on it." I was simply too conflicted right then to let him touch my penis again. I was sure what we had done was wrong, and I needed time to process all that had transpired. "I'm sorry, Orson, but it is your bedtime now. Go to the bathroom, put on your PJs, brush your teeth, and get into bed. I will be back in a few minutes to kiss you goodnight." "But, Daddy, please, that was so much fun. I want to do it again," said mournfully. He was fondling his balls and penis as he spoke. "Not tonight. Now you heard me. It is time for you to go to bed." And I started to leave the room. "Ohhhh you're mean," he said dejectedly, but he crawled off the bed and stomped into the bathroom. I went to my room, took a shower, and wearing only my robe, I went to Orson's room to kiss him goodnight. I found him asleep on top of his covers wearing his Sponge Bob Square Pants "jimmies," and hugging his favorite teddy bear. I looked at him thinking, "this adorable boy, my 5-year-old son, played with my cock and balls less than an hour ago, and jacked me off until I unintentionally shot my load right in front of him. And then I, his father, jacked him off. My God, what have I done?" The enormity of it was overwhelming. -------------------------------------------------------- "So, guys, I see my story has had an effect on you," Brian said as he pointed towards Peter's and my crotches where there was no mistaking that we both had erections tenting our pants. Not only that but large ever-growing wet spots were visible on our denim shorts where our cockheads were leaking profusely. Brian opened his robe exposing his fully engorged cock, and said, "There is more to my story; the day I'm telling you about is not over by any means. I still need to tell you how Orson came to suck me off. But perhaps we could take a break now and take care of our dripping cocks before I continue?" "No, no," Peter and I both replied. "Please go on with your story. Our cocks can wait." Brian closed his robe, "Well, okay," he said. "But I do have to take a quick piss break. The bathroom is just down the hall there on the right if you need to use it. I'll use the one in the master bedroom. Be right back."