Date: Fri, 10 Jun 2022 09:50:37 -0600
From: Rocky Hawkins <justwriting@soniq.org>
Subject: Once with Rocky

Author's Note:

This story is told as a fantasy, and I won't tell you that there is any
truth to it. But, as narrator and protagonist, I am not really that
creative. So, you can decide if I made it up or not...

I love email and feedback, so let me know if you like this one!

DISCLAIMER:

The following content may contain detailed descriptions of sexual
interactions between a minor and adult. If the laws in your place of
residence or your religious beliefs make it illegal or wrong to read such,
do not continue. If this type of content offends you, do not continue.

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========================================================

It was easy to see why everyone liked him. At 14 years old, my son had just
begun to mature. In less than a year, he had changed so much! His brown
eyes (from his mother) had turned to a soft blue; his pudgy, round baby
face now had a light jaw line. His hair was like mine, sandy blonde, but as
he hit puberty, his 'new' hair was much darker.

Rocky was now only inches shorter than me, coming in at 5'8 to my 5'11. His
voice had lowered, but still not completely unbroken. It was quite amusing
to hear him when he was excited or angry. I noticed that he was getting
some definition, also. His growth spurt seemed to have moved his baby fat
to muscle, and my son was now close to being a young man.

It was a hot summer day in 1994 when I realized my boy had truly started to
become a man.

We were just about to go for the first swim of the year, and this was the
age where Rocky could join me in the Men's (not the boy's) locker room. I'm
not sure why I was so proud of that moment; perhaps it was knowing that my
son had all the right pieces. He was smart, kind, funny. He knew his body
was awkward and embraced his own clumsiness. He was eager to try new
things, and was brave about them. Offering him the ability to come into the
locker room, with adult men all around, was nothing for him. He asked only
one question; of which I expected. He asked, "Do I have to shower with my
suit like in the boy's room?"

I laughed at that, and shook my head. "No, Rocky. You can shower
normally. But you will be naked in front of others."

He didn't seem to mind this, and I didn't think he would. Rocky and I have
been pretty free about puberty chats, and he has never had an issue with
his body or self-esteem.

We came to the pool with our suits on, and a duffle bag of clothes to
change into. Like usual, Rocky went off with some buddies he met, and I
kicked back with some of the other weekend Dads. Most of them only had
weekend custody, but I was never married, and Rocky's Mom wasn't.. in the
picture. In fact, no one was in the picture. Made for very lonely nights.

"Dade, buddy!" Jordan, my co-worker and a weekend Dad, beckoned me over. I
shook his hand and accepted a 'coke'. He had these sleeve wraps for beer,
which made them look like Cola. Crafty.

We chatted for a bit, and when it was time to go, I called Rocky over, and
we headed into the locker room. It was still hot out, so not many were done
in the pool; sadly, I had a night shift at the factory, and needed to get
home.

We got to the lockers, and Rocky waited for me to open the locker. As I
worked the code, I realized: Rocky hasn't seen me naked in years! Well
before puberty, at least! I shook the thought out, knowing that we've been
talking about 'guy stuff' for almost a year now.

I opened the locker and pulled out the towels. I turned to Rocky, who had
just pulled down his suit. It was then, I realized my boy had truly started
to become a man.

He did not try to hide himself, and I didn't pretend I didn't see him. I
looked him up and down, and I smirked a bit. I pulled off my own swim
shorts, revealing myself to him as well.

"Well, my boy," I commented, "Looks like we are cut from the same cloth!"

I chuckled a bit, nodding to his cock. Like me, he was uncircumcised; also
like me, he had grown lower hanging balls than usual. He didn't quite
measure up to my girth or flaccid size (I was about 4" soft), but for a 14
year old, he was right on track. I briefly wondered how big he was hard,
but then clicked back into reality. "I'm sure he's just fine," I thought.

I watched his eyes slide down my own body, and grow larger as he reached my
own cock. As I said, 4" soft is pretty impressive, at least for a kid who's
not seen any before. I've gotten looks by others in the gym and locker too;
for what it's worth.

We hit the shower and I couldn't help but watch him. He soaped up, washed
his hair, his body, rubbed between his toes. Like me, he saved his cock for
last. I stared as he carefully pulled back his foreskin, gently soaping up
the tip and shaft. He began to stroke the skin slowly - he was genuinely
just cleaning it, but I could see him enjoying it. His eyes flittered for
just a moment, and I watched as he snapped back to reality. I could only
assume the shower was where my boy took his "alone" time, but he realized
quickly this was not the place.  He rinsed off quickly, but it was too
late. His cock had betrayed him, and was beginning to stand at attention.

I couldn't help but watch as my boy got a hard-on. He was now about 5"
hard, and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't panic, but I
could tell he was scrambling for what to do.

It was at this point I realized that his Dad, Dade Murphy, was also
sporting a hard-on. At 43 years old, my own cock was responding. Watching
my son get hard had sparked the same reaction in me. I had already cleaned
my cock, and now my 4" had grown to it's full mast of just under 7".

Rocky wouldn't look up from the floor, and for the first time I saw his
confidence wavering. I knew what I had to do.

I looked around and saw that there was only 2 other people in the showers -
neither of them near us. I turned off my water, walked over to my son, and
stood next to him.

I put my arm around his shoulder. We were both getting splashed by the
chest-height shower nozzle, and I could see him now peeking glances at my
torso, my cock.

With the confidence of a father, I leaned towards his ear. In a regular
voice, I said, "I told ya, cut from the same cloth!"

When he didn't respond, I tried again. "Look buddy, we all get hard-ons at
the worst - and best - times. It's gonna happen. Look at your ol' man? I'm
hard as a rock. Showers do it. Hot girls do it. Rubbing the dirt away can
do it. It happens."

He nodded, but didn't look up. I turned off the water and pulled down the
towels. I handed him one and wrapped myself up, pointing myself
upwards. "See, all ya gotta do is lock it up with a towel. Then you can get
dressed. It will subside, then you can worry about emptying the gun at
home, ok?"

He laughed at that, and took the towel. I watched as he worked his cock
under it, doing his best to hide himself. He loosened up again, and I knew
it would be ok. We dressed, and got home around 4pm. After a quick dinner,
I was off to work.

It was about 4am when I got home; the A/C was off, and it was hot! As
always, I stopped by Rocky's room to check on him. I wasn't surprised to
see that he was on top of the covers, but it was new that he was naked. Up
to this point, I guess I had assumed that he was wearing some kind of sleep
wear - I hadn't managed that part of his life since he was small.

I stood in the doorway and I started to think about his mother. Rocky had
so many qualities from her. When we first met, she was funny, and
clever. As I looked at him now, laying on his stomach, his pale skin in the
light, I realized how much his body was like her. Soft curves, supple and
ample ass... How I missed fucking that ass of hers.

That's how she wanted it. Soon after we met, I asked if she was on birth
control. She said no, that she was allergic; however, she had condoms, and
soon she even let me take her from behind, in the ass. Being a guy in my
late 20's, I wasn't object to ANY sex, as long as I got to enjoy her body
and cum.  So, if there were no condoms, she would bend over and take
it. The feeling of a tight hole stretching to meet my 6" girth was
amazing. She would cry and wail and tell me it was too big - but she never
made me stop. He moans and light pain got me to the edge every time. To be
able to cum inside her without condoms was amazing, and I never wanted it
to end.

But it did end. One night, we were both drunk. We got frisky, and I skipped
the condom. 9 months later, I had a kid, and she was gone.

For 14 years after, I've not seen much of women. A bar hookup here and
there. A couple blind dates. Once they know I have a kid, and work 2 jobs,
it doesn't last.

But now, to see that beautiful ass again, here in my own house - the
spitting image of hers...

My cock was rock hard. Even in my tighty-whiteys and stiff work cover-alls,
I could feel it trying to break free. As I continued to stare at Rocky's
ass, and see his body slowly rise and fall with each breath, my brain
connected his body to hers. My hand slid in the gap of my cover-alls and
slowly began to rub my cock through my underwear. I could feel the dampness
of my precum soaking the fabric, and I knew I had to do something. My thumb
reached into the waistband. It began to stroke the skin of my hard cock,
and I pictured myself with her. I imagined her tight body, like Rocky's,
face down. I could hear her voice beg me, "Dade, please take me - slide it
into me."  My whole hand was on the job now, and I could feel my hips begin
to buck. I needed to be inside her again.

A screetch of car tires snapped my out of my daydream, and I realized where
I was. My boy had shifted a bit, his knee upward and his hips wider. I knew
it wasn't her, but perhaps a touch...?

I quickly pulled back down the hall to my room and sat on my bed. What was
I thinking?

I took off my boots and slipped out of my cover-alls. Standing up, I saw
myself in the mirror. In only my Hanes underwear, a simple t-shirt, and
white socks, I looked myself up and down. My hard-on was still raging, and
I could see the wet area. My arms had bulked up since the new job at the
factory, and my stomach has tightened a bit. She would have loved the way I
look now.

I rubbed myself a little more. My cock had started to soften, but I was
rock hard as soon as I thought about her ass again. I needed to see it
again.

I slowly walked back to Rocky's room. He had not shifted, so his perfectly
round ass was right in front of me. Just like hers, it curved perfectly to
his legs, and shifted ever so slightly with each exhale. He had no hair
anywhere, just like her, and I could see the slightest dimple on the left
cheek. My cock twitched as I thought about the times I would bite that
ass. Her ass. My hand slid into my underwear.

My mind was now softly mixing the live, beautiful ass of my son with the
memories of her. I took a couple steps forward, and was now at the side of
Rocky's bed. Just a touch, to get the memory back?

I quietly dropped down to my knees, and in front of me was my boy. I could
feel the body heat from him as my chest lined up with his body. My right
hand, still in my underwear, was slowly keeping me on edge. I could feel
the fram of the bed with my hand with each long, slow stroke of my cock. It
was begging to be free, and it had control. I backed from the bed, my ass
now just above my heels. I pulled my knees together and pulled at the
waistband. My cock was so hard that it snagged on the elastic. I hooked the
band under my balls, letting my whole package free.

I looked down at myself, and rested my as son my heels. My cock was so
hard; I haven't felt this aroused in years. As I looked up at that tight,
smooth ass only inches away, my cock pulsed. Pre-cum oozed from the tip,
and began to slowly drip down to the floor.

My foreskin was pulled back with how hard I was, so I quickly caught some
of the pre-cum as a light lubricant.  My right hand began to stroke, ever
so slowly. The skin of my cock slid back and forth in my fist, long, slow
strokes.

My brain was on auto-pilot. I stared at my boy's ass and my stroking got
faster. I knew I had to be quiet, but I couldn't help let out a heavy
sigh. It wasn't enough to make Rocky stir, so I gave myself more
freedom. He was a pretty sound sleeper, so maybe...?

With each stroke, my need to touch his ass grew. Slowly, I leaned in. I
could smell him. We've always used the same soap, and the mix of his boy
scent with the soap made me gasp. I realized just then - it wasn't her I
wanted - it was him. I wanted to feel HIM.

My left hand, lightly on the bed, slowly and cautiously reached out. I was
inches from him now. Continuing on auto-pilot, I made contact.

My hand was as big as the entire left side of his ass as it rested on that
beautiful mound. My longest finger was at his hip, my pinky wrapping
slightly into his pelvis, and my thumb, floating a bit, directly above his
crack. I dared not move, waiting to see his reaction. Not even a shift in
weight, or change of breathing.

My thumb slid slowly along his ass, soon finding it's way in between. In a
mere moment, I was touching him. His hole was so warm, and the pad of my
thumb sparked directly to my cock. I paused again, sure he would notice
this - but there was no change. He was out like a light!

In what felt like hours, I waited. When I was sure he was still asleep, I
began to lightly caress him. His hole was warm, and his cheek in my palm
was soft. My own cock was begging to be stroked.

I pulled my hand away, licking my thumb. With equal softness, I returned to
his hold, pushing my spit against it. In a slow circle, I massaged my
son. My cock could handle it no longer, and I began to stroke.

With each circle of my thumb, I got closer. My strokes got faster and
longer, and my balls began to pull into me. I knew that it wouldn't be much
longer.

I was biting my lip now, and I lifted up off my haunches, lightly bucking
as my cock hungered to be inside that hole. My pre-cum was now sliding down
my shaft with each full thrust into my fist, and I wanted to cum.

My thumb was now directly on his hole, and my mind was losing focus. I was
staring at my boy, my thumb right at the prize, and all of my uncut 7" was
ready to blow.

It was in that moment, I could take no more. With no warning, my son's ass
puckered, and my thumb pushed in. Not far, just a little, but it was
enough. The sensation sent a spark through my entire body. I was humping
the air, my fist pounding my cock. I let go of my son's tight, welcoming
hole and stood up. My body commanded me to, my legs needing that
about-to-cum stretch.

My whole body tightened, and I stopped breathing. I began to cum, the first
wave of orgasm sending me into ecstasy. My cock shoved into my fist, my
cock bulging out over the bed. I didn't think. I couldn't. My cock was in
control, and my fist was a tool.

I was on my tip-toes as the first rope of cum shot out like a bullet. It
went flying well past my naked son, landing on the left side of his bed. My
fist took over and worked out the next few shots, and my eyes
widened. Before I could turn, I watched the next 2-3-4 spurts of my cum
spattered onto Rocky. My boy, still sleeping, now had Daddy's cum on his
back, leg, and ass. But I couldn't stop. The orgasm was the best I've had
in years, and I couldn't fight it.

I managed to pull back from him, letting the last few drops of cum fall to
the floor.

My orgasm faded, and reality sunk in. Rocky was still sleeping? Was he
unfazed by my stifled moans and hot cum on him? How was I going to clean
this up?

I pulled my underwear off, now the only item I could think of to wipe up
the mess. With the same care as before, I slowly wiped my son. His
shoulderblades, thigh, and ass cheek had puddles of my seed. With each
motion, I checked - his breathing didn't change. Damn, this kid sleeps
through a lot!

It was then I noticed, just between his perfectly round ass, one small shot
of cum. Laying on his side like this, it almost dangled from his cheek to
the other. My cock twitched again, and I couldn't help it. With my thumb, I
slowly slid across the cum strand and pushed back towards his hole. I
massaged it in, letting my own cum touch my boy in his most intimate
spot. I'm not sure why, but it felt like I needed to. Almost like I was
supposed to share this with him.

I stepped back from the bed, wadded up my underwear, and went to my own
bedroom. After a quick shower, I fell asleep, re-living those moments in my
head. I knew this was wrong. Why did it feel so right?

When I next saw my son, he was sitting in the kitchen, eating cereal out of
the box. It was still hot as hell outside, so he was just in underwear. I
choose basketball shorts. I smiled at him, reminding myself that he was my
son, and that I would love him no matter what.

He looked at me, then down at my shorts. His whole body slumped a little,
his hand resting in the cereal box.

Immediately, I got worried. I approached him, kneeling to my haunches to
meet his eyes. "What's wrong, Rocky?"

He sighed, then looked away. He was formulating his words, like
always. "Promise..." he started. "Promise not to get mad at me?"

I blinked, rested one hand on his knee, and the other at his chin. I pulled
his head up to meet my eyes. "I Promise... what's up?"

He looked at me, his face now determined. "Can we... can we do the butt
stuff again?"

My body went numb. I could feel the blood leave my face.

"Son, I, uh, well..." I was stammering. He was awake?

Rocky continued. "Cuz, after the swim, in the shower, I couldn't tell
you..." His eyes started to well, and I knew he was about to cry.

"I couldn't tell you that my..." his voice lowered, "penis... was hard from
seeing yours."

There were no words. I could only listen to my brave, perfect son to tell
me his feelings.

He wiped his eyes and refused to cry as he continued.  "...So when you came
into my room and touched me - I got all those feelings again."

I swallowed hard. "Son, Rocky... I thought you were asleep buddy. I mean,
what I did... well, when a man has a situation..."

"Dad," he said flatly, interrupting me, "I have magazines. I know what
people do with.. each other."

We were both quiet for a bit, and then I spoke up. "Well, Rocky. You were
very honest with me, so I have to say a couple things."

I felt a stirring in my cock again. Hearing the words from my son that he
was turned on by my invasion, my secret lust - I wasn't gay. This was
different. I had to explain to him.

"Son, here's the thing. What I did was wrong. Dads shouldn't touch their
boys like that."

He began to talk, but I stopped him with a finger to the lips.

"I had a moment where you reminded me very much of your mother, and I had a
moment of weakness. I regret that, and hope you can forgive me."

Rocky's face fell again, but I continued.

"I love you son, and it's my job to protect you, guide you, love you."

"THEN LOVE ME!" he shouted. Rocky stood up, pulling away from me. I could
see his arousal by this conversation. "Dad, I'm 14. Teach me. Love
me. Whatever - It felt really good, and it's all I want. I can't stop
thinking about the feelings. "

I stood up myself, allowing him to see my own hardness push against my
underwear. His eyes focused on it directly. Had he always wanted this? How
didn't I notice his interest before. I had to know.

"Rocky," I asked, cautiously, "Do you like boys, sexually? And, how long
have you been thinking about me...like that?"

He just nodded, and began to tear up again. "I have magazines," he
whispered. "They have guys doing what you did to me. It was what I've
wanted forever. But you say it's wrong..."

My whole body shifted and I rushed over to him. "No no no no, Rocky,
no. Being gay - wanting to be with boys instead of girls - it's not
wrong. You are not WRONG. You are not bad, ok?"

I hugged him tighter as he began to cry. "Oh, my son. you are perfect, in
so many ways, and this is not a bad thing at all. What I did in your room -
that was inappropriate."

We hugged, and I could feel my cock digging into him. "Dad," he mustered,
"I didn't think it was wrong. I felt amazing,"

I pulled back from him, and he looked me in the eyes. "I promise, I won't
tell anyone. Can we please... can you... I want it to be you Dad. Only
you."

It was clear. My son was gay, and I had opened a door for him that I was
unsure how to close. I didn't know what to do, or to think. My mind was
racing. I wasn't gay, I didn't like men. Dade was not gay, I said to
myself. However, in that room, in that moment, seeing my beautiful boy -
could I have done more? Would I have?

I had a lot to think about.


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Like it? Email me.  justwriting@soniq.org