Date: Wed, 9 Feb 2011 15:21:15 -0800
From: iwalked7miles@aol.com
Subject: A Father's Challenge

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 Nine

The two of us had two more nights and one full day left to share before
going home.  I sat in the recliner, reading a book I'd brought with me.  I
had left the door open to hear the sounds of the night.  Lucas had wanted
to build a fire but I thought it still too warm for one and didn't want to
waste any of the wood.

Trips to the cabin like this for me were like mini vacations.  We had the
one central lamp on, giving off enough light and still allowing the four
corners of the main room to be shrouded in shadows.  When the entire family
was here, my wife liked to tell stories out lout to the kids.  I didn't
have the kind of talent to keep people interested in any story I could try
to tell.  But my wife, she's good at creating a story as she talked it out.
They were mostly on the suspenseful side, the kind of stories that made the
kids sit tightly next to us.  But, as things go, they got older and you
just couldn't get them to do that any more.

I had probably began staring at the same page in the book without reading
for several minutes now, thinking about a great many things.

Lucas was on the couch listening to his ipod with head phones on.  I
started to stare.  He was lost in his own little world.  I caught myself
remembering past years, things he did, things he said.  I realize that in
life some children never have the parents they deserve and need.  And some
parents don't deserve the children they have.  I don't believe in God, and
never will.  If he did exist, I thought, he really needs to see a
psychologist because he's cruel to watch some of the things that happen in
life.  I looked at Lucas, thought of my other kids and knew I could never
harm them or let them be harmed when I can prevent it.

The situation me and Lucas were in...well, I came to the conclusion that
this isn't anything new.  It was a feeling of relief.  For us, it's new,
but the scenario, I'm sure it's happened to others.  I just wonder how many
fathers actually never allowed their sons the curiosities of intimacy.
When Lucas wanted to know that I jack off and would like to see it, I
didn't hesitate.  Good things came out of it for both of us.  I imagined,
from here on in, that Lucas would pretty much tell me everything he wants
to in the future.

Closing the book I was no longer reading, I set it down, feeling a yawn
come on.  The hour was late, and I was thinking about my bed.  To get my
son's attention, I had to get up and wave a hand in front of his face.  He
pulled the head phones off.  "I'm gonna turn in."

"Ah, yeah, okay," He said.

I went into my bedroom and crawled under the sheets.  I didn't have any
particular way to lay to be comfortable.  I could sleep on my back, on my
side, or my stomach.  Tonight, it was my stomach.  Minutes later, I felt
like I had an audience.  I looked to the door and saw Lucas standing there,
nothing but a sillouhette.  He'd turned the light off in the main room and
we were in the dark.  The cast of the moon's light helped to see somewhat
for me.

"I know I'm too old to be crawling in bed with my parents," He said, "so I
thought if I asked, you'd let me."  He waited.

I dropped my head back on the pillow with a grin on my face.  I let him
wait for over a minute before I lifted the sheet up invitingly.  He wasted
no time in climbing in beside me.  I let my arm drop over his torso.

He closed him eyes, laying on his back.  I studied his profile.  And to my
liking, there was just enough moonlight to see him.  I could tell that he
didn't seem tired.  "You don't look like you're ready to go to sleep."

He smiled, keeping his eyes closed.  "I'm not."  He squirmed a bit at his
confession.  "I thought we could talk more if you aren't too tired."

"Talk, or be playful?" I asked.  He fidgeted again but didn't reply.  It
was one of those times when even though I was tired I got a second wind.

"You haven't slept beside me in quite a long time," I commented.  I was
suddenly glad for the darkness.  There is always something...special about
two people talking in the dark.

Bringing up another subject, he said, "I know why I like doing what we're
doing, dad."

This got my complete attention.  I think that since this all started, I
wanted an answer to this.  Sleep could wait.  I remember him telling me a
few days ago that he didn't know why he suddenly wanted to do these things
with me, so it was surfacing that he too was asking himself, perhaps
drilling himself, for the answer.  I waited with patience.

"When I look in a mirror," He began, "I see myself but always think of you.
I'm going to look a lot like you."  He finally opened his eyes and turned
his head to me.  We were nose to nose.  Before he continued, I turned on my
side and pulled him to me, and he snuggled close.  I love when I see an
action I take being appreciated.  "Because of that, I think I want to feel
what it's gonna be like for me when I'm older."

This immediately made a lot of sense to me.  I knew all along that Lucas
wasn't doing this to be explicidly sexual with me.  I could comprehend
this, and the level of his voice rang with responsibility and gratitude.

"Of all the guys I know, none of them sound like they want to be anything
like their dads," He said.  "When I hear this, it makes me think of you
too, so in a way, things constantly make me wonder about myself."

He paused for a time.  I didn't want to say anything.  I didn't want him to
lose his concentration.  But as the moments kept being silent on his part,
I had to dig in.  "You know there are gonna be differences between us
physically," I said softly.

"Yeah," He agreed.  "I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna turn out exactly like
you."  When he said this, I wondered if he was thinking about every
physical aspect or just cock size.

"What parts of me do you hope happen to you?"

"That's a good question!" He laughed.  "I'm wondering now if I'd like being
hairy like you are, and of course, I'm wondering how big I'll end up being,
sure."  I felt his shrug against me.  "But there are other things I'm glad
I'm able to see.  Like how you cum.  I know I'll never do it the way you
do.  I don't even feel weird that I like seeing it," He spoke assuringly.
"I figure, heck, if I can't do that, at least I know someone who does!" He
laughed softly.  "And there are your muscles.  You look healthy, and that's
the way I want to be," He continued.  "I even notice how quickly you get
that five o'clock shadow."

"What I'm saying, dad," He sighed, pressing his face to mine, "is that I
like where I came from."

He couldn't have said anything better that my heart could hear.  It pulled
at all my strings, thrumming them with a great love.  When he kissed me, I
put a hand to the back of his head and wanted to hold him there.  He didn't
mind at all.  Our lips pressed, released, pressed again.  Lucas pulled my
upper lip between his.

Again, I remembered what I thought earlier in the day...that if Lucas
wanted to do other things, I'd be willing.  I understood his interest in me
now.  He had a personal point of view about this, and who was I to stop
him.  He had a legitimate claim to his curiosities.

At feeling this, I caught the familiar stir of arousal.  Someone was
interested in me, it pulled at my libido, and I wasn't afraid to express it
and let it be seen and to be touchable.

Lucas broke off the kiss.  He felt my cock hardening over his flesh, at his
groin.  I felt his cock wake up touching mine.  "If we get hard, dad," He
said in a wicked, humorous manner, "I won't be able to not do anything
about it."  While saying this, his hand pulled our cocks together in his
grip.

I felt fortunate.  I felt invigorated.  I felt completely alive.

As he played with our cocks, rubbing them together, and I kept hugging him,
he stated, "What I really want is to make you cum again so I can taste it."

"You don't want to taste yours before you taste mine?" I asked.  It was
being so much more fun and classic doing this in the dark.  And sensual.
Lucas was even being sensual, but I questioned that he really knew he was
being this way.  I had to give him credit, though.  He was intelligent.  I
made myself believe he was feeling the sensuality to this.  And if he
wasn't, I didn't take the risk of asking just to find out.  I wanted him to
pick up on his own feelings and express them as opposed to me pointing
everything out.  I wanted him to enjoy every discovery he could make on his
own emotionally.  Physically, yes, I'd tell him things, but how he felt
about things was at his own pace.

"Luke," I said passionately before he could respond to my last question,
"do what you want.  I won't say no."

In the darkness that filtered dim moonlight, our eyes met and understood.
I gave him the okay to feel legitimate with his thoughts that I couldn't
see, allowing him to show me without speaking them out loud.  There are
times when this is the way it has to be between two people.  I wanted to
know what he was thinking, and he wanted to show me without hesitation,
without guilt, without shame.

What I imagined he was thinking turned out to be true.  He nudged my arm
for release, and moved down my body.  I turned on my back and tossed the
sheet away.  I watched his face close in on my cock, stopping and looking
it over before putting his mouth on it.  There was no way I could act any
differently then expressing that I immediately enjoyed the warmth of his
mouth.

And I thought, considering the situation, the darkness helped.  It caused
me to think that there are some people who are more active without being
fully seen, and some people wanting to be seen doing what they're doing.
Lucas put all of his attention to my cock, his tongue dancing around in
circles at its head while his fist stroked me.  He was exhibiting himself
bravely.

I rarely got a blow job.  My wife did it occasionally, but reluctantly.
Here and now, my son was focusing on pleasing me.  It doubled, even tripled
my excitement.  He didn't know that it could bring me to the edge as he
continued.  I knew I'd be able to warn him when I started cumming.  I put
my hand on his head, splaying my fingers in his hair.  It was like feeling
a spider's web without it being sticky.  His hair was soft, fleeting as it
passed through me fingers.

Lucas said he wanted to make me cum, he was focused on it.  I was glad that
he put all of his attention on me so that I didn't give him any because of
how quickly he could shoot.  If he was insistant on tasting my sperm, I'd
let him get me off and see how he planned to do this, considering how I
cum.

Yet, I wanted this to be mutual, especially in the dark.  So I said, "Son,
after you make me cum, I'll do this to you."

He stopped sucking on my cock, surfacing to look at me, perhaps for visual
acknowledgement.  Then he returned to giving me head.  He didn't try to get
a lot of me in his mouth.  He paid attention to the head of my cock, and
that was okay.  I had a sensitivy there anyway.  I remembered when Lucas
asked me where else on my body I was ticklish and I wouldn't tell him.
This is where it was.  I was ticklish during and after I came at the head
of my cock.

I grew close to shooting, so I said, "Luke, if you really want to taste me,
then after I cum, do what you're doing again."  I said this in a breathless
way because my body was enjoying the attention.

"Can we put the light on so I can see it?" He asked.  Although doing this
in darkness was intriguing, my wondering what all he would do, I guess I
wasn't surprised that he wanted to have the visual.  I reached over and
turned on a table lamp next to us, illuminating the length of the bed.  He
had kept on invigorating me with his strokes when his face appeared, a
ready smile for me to see.  He put my cock back in his mouth, what he could
or would of it.  I knew it wasn't long now.  In the past few days I had
gotten too much wanted attention and was liking it.

The muscles in my legs trembled as the moment got closer.  I felt the build
up.  I began to moan against my will, learning that someone could make me
feel this way.  Lucas stroked me faster when he heard my moans.  Knowing I
was about to discharge, I said gruffly, "I'm gonna cum."

Lucas pulled off just as that rope of sperm sailed out and landed on my
stomach.  It was odd, because I normally don't cum on myself.  I felt the
split second heat of my body's liquid.  Then the rush, the true grit of my
balls letting go as my son jacked me off, the spurts of semen that hit my
upper chest.  I let myself go with this orgasm, shuddering with no control,
my body rumbling against the body contact with Lucas.  I didn't look to see
if he was liking it, I was concentrating on just liking it myself.

My body tensed at the last of my orgasm, then settled into trembling.  I
was spent as far as shooting goes, and my semen was dripping down my shaft,
his fingers.  I raised my head and told Lucas, "Okay."

He put my cock in his mouth again, sucking at it, getting the last remnants
of my ejaculation.  It tickled beyond belief and my body jerked and I
couldn't stop from acting like I was being tickled, wanting to push his
face away.  My hands came up defensively, but I didn't use them to stop the
tickling.  I wanted to, but I endured the sensation.  My son appeared to be
enjoying my squirming.

Lucas milked my cock until nothing tickled me anymore.  He continued
sucking on me until my cock softened before he let go with his mouth.  He
seemed to be confident, knowing he was doing.  I waited for him to tell me
whatever he would.

He remained motionless for a moment.  I saw him tasting the inside of his
mouth while looking at the spray of sperm over my torso.  I waited for him
to grasp what he was experiencing, not asking any questions.

When he dropped beside me, acting as if he were spent himself, I just
hugged him.  I had no idea how to respond to the situation.  I didn't want
to wait for what he thought about tasting sperm.  I wanted to know.
"Lucas?"

"Yeah?" He said playfully, nudging his face into my hairy and cum drenched
chest.  The side of his face rubbed into my sperm, but he didn't seem to
mind it.

"I should go get a towel," I responded.  He didn't like that idea.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he used the palm of his hand to rub my
orgasm into my flesh, softly, slowly, until it seemed gone.  I knew it
wasn't.  When sperm dried in hair, it had a pulling sensation.  But Lucas
didn't want me to move as the moments passed.  There was a smear of my
sperm on one of his cheeks that turned into a descending tear.  I touched
it with my forefinger and brought it to my mouth, my tongue emerging to
lick it in.  He watched curiously.

I ventured to do something with his cock, but he stoppped me.  It was a
gentle cease.  "Dad, I'm good.  I don't need to get off."

It took great effort to wonder about his mood, so I waited for his answer.
Lucas just tasted my sperm, and I wondered if he was trying to decide about
tasting it as much as when I took his entire load.  We weren't homosexuals.
It got me to thinking; one doesn't have to be homosexual to taste sperm.
Hell, perhaps a lot of straight men did this, tasting their own sperm.
Lucas and I were capable of tasting each others.

More moments passed as we lay there, my son filtering through his mind what
he just did.  In doing things like this, time always had to be allowed for
participants to adjust to what just happened.

"It's...strong," Lucas finally admitted.  "Tasting sperm."  He looked at me
with a mellowness in his eyes.  I knew he wasn't tired.

"I know," I replied.  "It's different.  Not something you taste every day."
I considered what I said.  "When I swallowed your load the other night, I
thought I was tasting life."

Weird, I knew, but that was my thought.  I connected earth to life.  Still
clenched beside me, I felt that he was still hard.  Of course he was.  He
was fourteen.  I was in a position to use the palm of my hand to massage
his smooth chest.  His breathing was even, I could even hear his faint
heartbeat.  "Are you sure you don't wanna pop a load?" I whispered with a
grin.

"Well," He chuckled, "if you insist."

"I'll show you something new, if you're interested."

Lucas was interesetd.  He didn't even nod, but simply waited.  No holds
barred, I positioned myself so that I could kiss his left nipple, nibble it
softly, wet it with my tongue.  The absolute smoothness of his skin was
something I was used to.  I thought I'd show him a little foreplay.  This
is where I thought I would draw the line, but now I was offering it.

I was enthralled at that moment when I showed Lucas how to nuture his whole
body when jacking off, not just his cock.  I was proud of showing him that.

Now I gently used my large hands to give attention to any part of his body
besides his crotch, to see if his body would receive the message and
respond.  He watched me use my mouth on both of his nipples, and as with
something I did to his mother, when I wet them with my tongue, I blew on
them when they were moist., all the while using the fingertips of one hand
to trace patterns on his stomach, his inner thighs.

He was getting the message, alright.  He even finally closed his eyes,
opening his body up to receive.  I propped myself up on my knees between
his legs so I could use both hands.  I traced my tongue from his belly
button up to his neck, then blew gently down the moist trail.  "Hah," He
breathed, head laying to one side.  I caught sight of his earlobe and took
it in my mouth, nibbling and pulling on it.

I figured that he could only take so much of pleasure like this before he
automatically had to ejaculate.  I didn't have much time due to this.  It
was just so thoroughly enjoyable.  I nibbled, wet and blew on his nipples
one more time before kissing down his torso and taking his rigid cock in my
mouth.  I could take all of it in, feeling his head at the back of my
throat.

He whimpered, his hands coming to the side of my face.  I used my
forefingers to kneedle his balls, still smooth, so infant, so tight.  He
suddenly reacted in a way I hadn't expected or thought of.  His hips came
up, then lowered, and again.  Something I had never shown him...humping.
Yet he was doing it.  I kept my head still so he could do it without any
clumsiness.

Then he started it faster, breathing loud, noisy in the small room.  I knew
he was ready.  He didn't have to announce himself.  One last final thrust
upward and my mouth filled his his orgasm, my hands going under him, taking
the moons of his ass to hold him to me as he came, squirming, eyes
gleaming.

Once again, the taste of earth and life.  I swallowed.  His load was small
for me to handle, and ended fast.  It tickled him as much as it tickled me
to be inside a warm, wet vacuum while shooting.  I didn't wait until he
softened in my mouth.  Backing upright, his hands fell from my face to his
tummy.  I watched him calmly as he came down from the high, smiling.

He sat up to hug me but I stopped him.  "Let me clean off before you do
that or we'll both have to," I laughed softly.  He nodded, looking at the
matted hair on my chest and stomach.  I left the room, used a warm cloth to
wipe down, and returned quickly, finding him curled in a fetal position on
his mother's side of the bed.

Laying down, I pulled him into me.  He turned himself so that he fit like a
glove.  I was spooning him, my hair tickling his back.  A moment later, he
asked, "That was foreplay, right?"

"You've heard of it?" I asked, surprised but not surprised.

"In a way," He shrugged, yawned.  "But the things I hear about are what
guys do to girls."

"Well, son, girls can do it back.  I'm sure you'll find that out."  Content
but groggy, I closed my eyes.

Lucas reached over and turned the light off, casting the room in moonlight.
"You can show me anything you want, dad, that you think I need to know," He
told me sleepily.

I didn't respond.  I just let myself enjoy the warmth of a body in my arms,
especially someone so close to me emotionally.  We both drifted off into
slumberland...