A Father's Account
Copyright (c) 04 February 2008
By Bler (firstname.lastname@example.org)
It's time to get the ball rolling - or perhaps I should say, "get the balls bouncing." The previous two chapters outlined the circumstances which introduced me and my oldest boy ("Andrew") to mutual satisfaction. Though there was a lot of background info to include to bring you up to speed, the main event which spurred the last years' worth of intimacy (and hopefully many more future moments) occurred on that single Saturday night and the following Sunday morning. And so, we pick up where we last left off, at the breakfast table.
"Dad, I want to live with you."
"Does your mother know? Are you gay?"
"No, and yes," was his reply. "Will you have me?"
"Andrew," I said lightly, "I will have you any time you want."
I could see the excitement in his eyes. It was as if a whole parade of Christmas decorations had suddenly flashed in front of his young face.
In my head flashed visions of things to come, dirty things that supposedly only perverts imagined: blowjobs, handjobs, kissing, rubbing, touching, feeling, caressing, and the ultimate - fucking. I say "perverts" because society has labelled as such a consensual, intergenerational relationship between a man and a boy. I took stock of what I had been told. And then I realized that sex between men and boys was almost a natural thing - hell, even the ancient Romans and the ancient Greeks understood *that*. Someone had to teach the boys about sex, and not in that watered-down sex-ed class that they teach in school. Those classes didn't teach responsibility. They didn't teach passion. They didn't teach love. They only taught strict mechanics of the how's and why's and where's. Those classes were like cabinet assembly instructions: insert Tab A into Slot B, and out pops a baby in 9 months. They didn't even *hint* at the idea that two women or two men could possibly love each other (Slot A wears a Tab and inserts into Slot B; Tab A inserts into Slot C; respectively - Slot A is obviously the mouth in this case).
But now, things were different with my boy. Once an innocent bystander, he was now a guilty participant of pleasures with his old man.
Instead of taking him to putt-putt golf like I had planned, we spent Sunday just being together. It was the most exhilarating day a guy could have! He was certainly not shy about his attraction to me, and I made sure I wasn't shy in receiving his affections. He fawned over me so much that I started feeling like a celebrity.
"What's it like to be gay? How do you find other guys? Do you do 'it' here, or somewhere else? What kind of guys do you like?"
It was almost overwhelming! My son, looking up to me for advice about being gay. It was kind of disconcerting, yet comforting at the same time.
"Well, being gay just feels normal to me. It feels like I have always been this way. I don't mean to make you think I didn't love your mom, but it is like I only married her because I thought *that* was what I was supposed to do. I don't regret it, Andrew, because you are more precious to me than life itself and I can't imagine what it would be like without you. I mean, for one, I wouldn't have had such a good time last night if I hadn't married your mom..."
Andrew laughed a little. It was like he completely understood what I was saying. Oh God how I had wished for someone that "got" me so much as my own son did.
"I've been with a few guys. We've done a lot of different things. Sometimes I was with two other guys at the same time and that was fun."
His eyes lit up. It was like some kind of gear was moving inside his head. I could tell he was contemplating something, but I let it go.
"Mostly I like guys who's bodies look similar to mine. But I'm not close-minded either; I like guys of different races and backgrounds too. I know it will be hard for you to understand, but each guy I've had sex with has had different styles, different tastes and different ideas. And that is what makes it so wonderful, because I'm always finding out something new."
"I like that, what you said. I'm pretty sure that I'm gay - I like to look at other guys, and what we did last night felt good. It felt right, like I was doing something that just seemed right to me. I want to do it again."
That was all it took. I was so turned on; he was staring at my joggers as an obvious bulge began to develop. The TV was rambling away, but both of us were in a different galaxy. He pulled off his shirt, and I followed suit.
"Touch me," he practically commanded.
I put my hands on his smooth chest. My fingers felt his nipples, my joggers suddenly sprouted a tent. I massaged his nipples, and he moaned a little. It was odd, my large hands feeling his small, soft body like that. I moved them down a little to his abdomen and leaned over to lick his rock-hard nipples. I had to kneel on the floor, but it was a submission that I was willing to perform.
My hands grasped his flanks and my lips covered his left nipple. Then his right. Moving my hands gently to his back, I forced his chest to my mouth and then moved up to his neck. He gasped in exctacy as I found his "G" spot just on top of his shoulder and worked it. I moved my hands down his back, down his flanks, down to his hips where I gently - slowly - pulled down his shorts. My mouth found its way up his neck, his jaw, his ear, and finally to his mouth where he was obviously hungry for my tongue.
As we played tonsil-hockey, I felt his hands move down my back to may ass. Then his finger was in my hole, and I moaned into his mouth. His other hand found its way to my dick, which he gently began to touch.
I was in heaven!
Suddenly, his finger was out of my ass hole and his whole hand was on my back, pulling me closer. It moved up, up until it was at the back of my head, pulling me further into his mouth. My arms were around his back, squeezing him tightly against my chest. Then down, down until I found his dick. I pulled it up so that it was against my belly and I began to move up and down to masturbate him with my stomach as my hands found their way to his head and to his back. And my tongue was still exploring his mouth.
Suddenly he pushed me off - it was violent! Oh God I was turned on! He yanked my joggers down, hopped off the couch and got behind me. I felt his little dick penetrate my ass.
With one arm, he grabbed my neck in a choke-hold, I could feel the inside of his elbow around my Adam's Apple. The other hand grabbed my chest tight.
The next thing I knew, my 13-year-old was pounding the hell out of my ass! I didn't know what to do, except gasp in pleasure... I mean, I had had some big guys inside me before, but they were nothing compared to my boy's 4-inch dick sliding effortlessly in and out, nothing more than a little of his spit as lube.
His stomach was against my back, and his mouth next to my ear. I could feel the ripples of his belly moving as he pushed in and pulled out of my ass. He was riding me tight and as hard as he could, and I could feel the sweat from his chest against my back. He tightened his grip on my neck and his other hand moved to my dick, where he started jacking me as hard as he could.
As he pumped his dick into my ass, he would cry a little into my ear. He sped up. The moaning became more intense. He started to jack me off really hard and hot.
"Harder!" I moaned. "Harder and damn it fuck me like you mean it you little bitch!"
The dirty talk obviously turned him on even more! He suddenly started to push hard against my ass and his hand tightened around my dick.
"Goddam it son that feels so fucking good!"
I heard a slight laugh in his next gasp.
"Fuck, dad! Fuck, dad! Oh my fucking God! Shit!"
His body tensed. He cried out. His dick pulsed in my ass - he was unloading, and unloading a *lot* more than he did in my mouth last night. His hand had a vice-grip on my dick and suddenly I started to blow.
My ass hole tightened with each spurt of cum. I could vaguely hear my boy moaning over and over each time, but I was too busy having my mind explode to pay much attention. I remember seeing stars...
His body went limp. He collapsed on my back just as I was hitting my peak. The feel of his soft, small body against my back sent ripples of pleasure through my skin and made me cum only that much harder.
The couch, the floor, they were all covered by my deposit. I had never seen so much cum in my life! And here I was, kneeled on the floor with my head and arms on the couch, my son heaving for breath on top of me. I could feel his hard dick inside me, and as he pulled out, he jerked a little more and left a small load trickling down my ass toward my balls.
I turned around, put his hands on my shoulders. He looked like he was about to die! I cleaned his dick, balls, and groin area with my tongue - this caused him to jerk even more. He looked down at me, sitting on the floor. He fell to his knees and put his mouth against mine. I know it only lasted a few minutes, but that kiss felt like hours. Hands were flying everywhere. He was crying.
So was I.
I wiped the tears from his cheek.
"I love you, Andrew. Don't ever, ever forget that."
"I love you, dad."
We held each other so tight - our throbbing dicks against each others' bodies. We kissed. We explored.
He pulled his face back a few inches and looked directly into my eyes. He looked scared, but happy at the same time. His head fell to my shoulder. We held each other for a very, very long time. Our dicks eventually softened up and we got up.
"I'm gonna take a shower. You game, Andrew?"
"Hell yeah!" he said excitedly.
In the tub, he sucked and jacked me some more - but I was spent, there was nothing left to come out. Damn! did it feel good, though!
Later that afternoon, his mom came by to pick him up.
"Can't for next weekend, dad!"
"Me too, Andrew! Ask your mom about spending all next week with me, since you're not in school."
"Ok dad, I will!"
And he was gone. Thinking about that weekend made me hard again, so I jacked off. My son is so fucking hot!
I couldn't wait for next weekend. I started making plans that I knew would surprise, and - and probably delight - him...
Part IV is cumming very soon...