Date: Sat, 5 Feb 2011 21:55:41 -0800 From: Miles Subject: A Father's Challenge 7 Disclaimer...the following story is entirely fictional and the characters not related to anybody nor to any situation. It is a product of my storytelling imagination. I hope you enjoy it. By the way, thanks to all of you for your wonderful emails. I enjoy hearing from you. Comments can be sent to iwalked7miles@aol.com . Part Seven Have you ever experienced yourself being rushed out of sleep although there are no alarms, nor rhyme or reason? You just find yourself waking up and and looking around, rubbing your eyes irritably, wanting to find the reason for the sudden wake up call? That was me the next morning. I lay heavily in my bed, studying the ceiling. It was one of those times when either my imagination would take over, or I had to face myself in a mirror. It all hit me, what transpired the night before. Hell, the day before. I looked at my stomache, thinking about my son's sperm swimming around in me. I felt crazy. I'd slept a bit longer then the morning before, I realized when I checked my phone clock. Laying there, I waited to see if I felt like today would be a repeat of yesterday. Everything clicked in my mind. If I had to tell the truth, I looked at the empty place beside me on the bed where my wife slept when we were here, and wondered why Lucas hadn't snuck in to sleep with me after I'd fallen off. He wasn't there. Although I thought about it, I was relieved. He wasn't trying to make something of this that was unrealistic. Still, I let things go the way they went the night before. I remember, like a video playing in my head, not stopping Lucas from what he did. I played back in my mind that I'd swallowed my son's sperm. I was agitated, but I knew why. This whole thing was getting uncontrolable for me. I needed to change that. I wanted me and my son to enjoy quality time together around all of this sexual awakening we were sharing. In wondering about how I woke up, irritated and sudden, I didn't let myself hold on to it. What was done was done. There was no changing anything. I looked at my open bedroom door, and knew I had to walk through it. My oldest son and I had shared blow jobs. I moved to the kitchen area, looking around. Lucas must still be asleep in his room. That scared me. I hated that I felt fear. Something was going on inside my head and thoughts that didn't include all the things my son and I had shared up until this point. Then things began to surface for me. I calmed down. I was worrying about intimacy at it's final stage. Where was this going? Where did I want it to go? And where did Lucas want it to go? We were going to have to return to society in a couple days, a place where all of this was wrong. It occured to me that Lucas wasn't thinking about any of this as responsibly as I was. I looked at it from his point of view, remembering things he'd said. He was genuinely pleased to see a side of me not many people see. I was giving him something to relate to. Well, aside from the oral and jacking one another off. The challenge rang in my ears again. I was letting society seep in and weigh against my personal judgment. This had to cease, I urged myself while getting the coffe pot going. There just wasn't anything happening here that was wrong. If there was, I would sense it. Society as an entity would not brainwash me. I trusted in what I was doing. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the other open bedroom door to look in on my son. He was asleep and tangled in his sheets. I saw his naked thigh and grinned. He was growing comfortable with being nude. I decided to let him sleep rather then wake him with the thought I had in mind. It'd allow me to do a few things around the cabin and get that caffeine in me. Although I didn't expect just how much time I'd have as the boy slept, and it seemed lengthy, I'd stepped outside to see what the weather would bring, and it was looking good; I showered, shaved, struggled against my growling stomach to wait and eat with Luke; looked in my suitcase to see the clothing I wasn't wearing and wouldn't dirty. It had always been a personal humor to me to have the wife and kids see me take a suitcase full of clothes on this annual trip because they had no idea that I didn't wear any of it. It made me glad that Lucas knows, now. When he finally appeared, he looked much the same as he did every morning; his hair was wild, eyes still half asleep, the slowness in his walk. The major difference was seeing him with his morning woody as he gave me a 'morning' nod and disappeared into the bathroom. After a moment I heard him taking his piss. I was on my third cup of coffee when he joined me in the main room, sitting beside me on the couch. Yawning, he looked out the bay window. "Hey," He said cheerfully, "look's like we'll get some sun." Winking, I said, "Glad you noticed. How about a little fishing after breakfast?" To my surprise, he was gung ho about it. "Did you bring a worm pale?" "I bought one just before we left," I said happily, rising to get breakfast going, my stomach quite happy about it. Once fed, it took us almost an hour to organize what we'd carry to the lake to fish. Of course, we had to dress for this. The lake wasn't private. He seemed as reluctant as me about putting clothes on. It was a beautiful late morning. We cast our rods and did the usual boring 'waiting game' for nibbles, watching the bobbles. It was an unusual situation between us because we didn't find ourselves conversing. We shared side glances, grins, flirting, as it were. It was pleasantly harmless. Surprisingly, we didn't see anyone in eye sight across the lake nor to our left and right. A couple hours later, after many nibbles, we both had reeled in one good catch that would make for dinner later. Gathering our gear and heading for the cabin, each of us carrying our catch still wiggling on strings, Lucas said, "The only time I ever like to go fishing is with you. Otherwise, I don't see myself as someone who'd do it because I want to." "Too boring?" I asked. He nodded. I had to agree with him. "You don't seem to have patience for having to wait for results," I remarked. He thought about this. "Maybe." "Luke, it's me. I see that in you," I said affectionately. "You like to see fast progress." He looked at me appreciatively, causing me to realize that perhaps most people don't see a lot about themselves in the simple things in life. "Mine's a little bigger then yours," I said matter of factly as we approached the cabin. Lucas's jaw dropped, looking at me with a surprised expression. He guffawed. "Dad, I know you're bigger then me. I've SEEN and touched it! You're a lot bigger then me!" It caught me by surprise, this reaction of his. I chuckled, holding up my catch. "I meant my fish. It's a little bigger then yours." He looked at my fish and instantly blushed, dropping his fishing pole to use that hand to cover his embarrrassment, starting to laugh, turning slowly in a circle. "Cock on the brain, son?" I asked with a touch of devilish humour in my tone. It embarrassed him even more, but it was all in good fun. He appeared to have nothing to say in his situation but stand there as I continued to the back yard. It made all the worries from earlier that morning fade away. Once the fish were filleted, we both undressed, and gladly. We spent the afternoon in different ways. I finished up the wood chopping and Lucas redressed to head out into the wooded area for...whatever. I didn't know he'd grabbed a plastic container, but noticed it when he returned with blackberries in it. He'd done this once before, a few years ago, to his mother's delight. She knew what to do with them, making a pie. I, on the other hand, hoped we'd just share them with sprinkled surar or something. It tickled me that he rid himself of clothing once he returned. "So are all of your obligations met?" He asked me as I prepared dinner. "I think so," I said, running things through my mind. Our dinner was smelling good. "Now is the time I start thinking about myself when I come up here every year like this." Lucas stared at me with awe for a moment. "So this is your chill time?" He asked. "More or less," I replied. I thought at this point that I'd be somewhat more forthcoming. "Your coming here with me this year has been fantastic." I didn't want to list off why. "For me too," He said thoughtfully, more to himself then for my benefit. We enjoyed a pretty good dinner. I'm not the greatest at cooking but it hit the spot. There were no complaints. We'd brought plenty of vegetables for salads, chips, canned veggies. It was the best meal so far. Lucas seemed content about it. After dinner, I told him I'd clean up the kitchen. He was happy about that, as all kids would be. He lay down on the couch as I started cleaning up. No conversation surfaced between us. I kept eyeing him as I cleaned. I don't think even five minutes passed before I saw his cock get hard. I couldn't see his face. When he grabbed his cock, what I was doing as I was washing the dishes sounded incredibly noisy while he started stroking. I was amazed that he could get into it with the noise static, so I started being more quiet at what I was doing, yet watching him. He was incredibly relaxed to do what he was doing in my presence. I felt honored, and humbled. After watching him for a few moments, I realized that I'd gone into some trance and wondering why. Lucas was beating off steadily. This picture didn't look right. It took me a few moments to comprehend why. "Luke!" He turned to me, all questioning. I walked over to him and sat at his side, his eyes inquisitive. I paused to get the thought I was thinking to share with him. I looked at his cock in his hand and palmed my left hand there gently. He softly pulled his hand away, and I could tell that he might be thinking I'd jack him off, but that wasn't so. I didn't want to make him cum. I wanted him to believe something. Lightly holding his cock with my left hand, I met his eyes. "Son, you don't just have a cock. You have an entire body," I said quite passionately, looking him over. What I realized was that he was gonna just beat off to cum. I wanted him to know other things. My son looked a bit confused, so I took his left hand in my right, felt his fingers softly, then guided his hand to his chest. Using his index finger, I touched it to his left nipple, circling it about. I let go of his cock, grabbed his right hand and returned it to where it was, helping him to stroke himself slowly as I used his left hand to play with his nipple. "You have much more to play with then your cock, Lucas," I said softly. It hit me in a great way that I was in a moment that I could share more then sex with my son. I could show him how to enjoy himself alone. Although he was receptive to my giving him attention, he was also listening intensely. I took his hand from his chest and put his index finger to his lips. He wasn't sure what I wanted him to do, but finally his tongue emerged and licked his own fingertip. I returned that finger to his nipple, circling it around a few times, then traveled it down the center of his torso, to the right and along his hip, to the inside calf, then his balls. Then I let his hand go slowly, letting him do these things himself. He caught on, looking at his own hand discovering touching other parts of him besides just grabbing his cock and getting off. Once he looked like he was into this, I slowly stood and returned to the kitchen. Looking back, I found that he'd moved to watch after me, meeting my eyes. I nodded, telling him to try what I was showing him. He lay back, holding his hands in front of his face, studying them. I waited, almost holding my breath, wanting to know that I could teach him this particular thing. Finally, he used his hands to explore more of himself as he got into it. He raised one leg to trace a finger on, right to the ankle. Lucas started doing this to many parts of his body as I listened to his excited breaths. He was lost in himself. He knew I was there, but he we in self discovery, and I loved seeing it and being a part of it. No one would ever be able to tell me I shouldn't have been able to assist my son in this way. I couln't concentrate on much more else around me at this point. I grew hard watching my son explore himself, completely separate from me. I didn't get hard because I wanted to see him do this, I got hard because I know what it's like, exploring yourself, finding all of your turn ons. And I didn't get hard to get off in the moment. It was the type of hardon that was understanding what I was seeing. It was all about the mutual understanding of self. Not touching myself, I watched Lucas for several minutes at a distance as he was learning about himself. It was absolutely beautiful. It was a moment I would never forget. He didn't need me here. And in hind sight, I hope he tells me some day that he will always be glad for my openness. A man's sexuality is a strong, constant presence. Society would like us to supress this, but it isn't possible. In those moments watching my son explore his own body and finally climaxing, I was proud of myself. A few moments after he shot his load and was relaxed, Lucas stood and walked up to me, cum dribbling down his chest and stomach. There was a different appreciating in his eyes. He was impressed. "I don't know when I ever would have learned about that," He said in a soft voice, "but I'm glad you shared this." His smile sparkled. He looked down at my hard cock that was beginning to soften. When our eyes met again, he said, "I wannna know more about what it's like to be a man." He had such passion in his voice. "I'll share anything I can with you, son," I replied, nodding my head, and pulling him to me for a hug, feeling his sperm connect us. That would never bother me, feeling his load on my skin. It helped me wonder about the future...