A Perfect Love

by Winter

 

3

Dad had set the alarm clock to go off at seven Saturday morning, to give us lots of time to pack and get ready. I woke up when a sunbeam played across my face, and turned to check the time. Six-thirty. Not really very sleepy, I decided to take a long morning. Just lie back and be comfortable. Dad was breathing quietly next to me, and I moved as close to him as I could, feeling the heat of his body. He was hard, his stiff penis poking me in the back, but for once it didn't make me feel aroused. It was just natural to have morning wood. I did, too. Feeling me move, dad put his arm over me, as if to protect me. I hugged it to me, kissing his fingers while I let my thoughts wander. Two weeks of vacation. Just me and dad in a solitary cabin. There was just so much we could do! I loved the outdoors, and the times dad had taken me hiking or fishing before were some of my most precious memories. This trip was sure to be so much fun! I got jittery, butterflies filling my stomach at the thought of our journey. While my mind was preoccupied I had watched the clock tick on, adding minute to minute, but way too slowly for me. Returning to the world from my little trip of planning, I quickly grew impatient. Something had to happen, and soon, or I'd burst from excitement. Leaning as far as I could without breaking dad's embrace, I managed to reach the clock. I moved the hands forward until it started to ring, then held it close to dad. He grunted something and reached for where it usually stood, then started to feel around for it. I had to bite my lip in order not to giggle as his grunting got more frustrated. Every time he was close to catching the clock, I'd move it out of the way, and it just kept on ringing. Eventually he sat up, cursing loudly as he looked around. I ducked in beneath the comforter, pretending to be still asleep while I cradled the ringing clock. It didn't take dad long to figure out what was going on, and I soon felt him grab my arms as he tried to pry it away from me. Giggling now, I fought against it, holding on even as he started to tickle me. In the end, though, I had to yield, and he took the clock, shutting the alarm off with a loud smack of his palm. A second later, another smack landed on my naked butt, and I squealed as I hid beneath the comforter again. Instead of digging me out like I'd thought he'd do, he grabbed the comforter and caught me inside it. Grabbing it by the corners he made it like a sack and carried me off the bed.

"This goes into the bottom of the large suitcase, I guess," he muttered as he hauled me down the stairs. "Better pack it first so the rest gets easier."

By this time, I was screaming with laughter, and when he finally let me go on the kitchen floor I had to make a dash for the downstairs bathroom. While I was aiming my morning wood into the toilet bowl, trying my best to empty my aching bladder, dad got in and stood next to me. While I struggled, he just seemed to let it go, even though he was every bit as hard as I was. I commented dourly on this injustice, but he just laughed and patted my back.

"It's a matter of technique, son. You just have to relax and let nature take its course."

"But how can you relax it? It feels like it's closed up!"

"It kind of does, when it gets hard. Try to relax the muscles around it."

"How?"

"Flex your muscles. Try to find the right ones." He finished up and moved to stand behind me. Then he took my hands and placed them on my lower stomach and crotch. "Feel the muscles as they move. See if you can find the ones that are tensed up. I'll aim for you while you search."

He grabbed my erection and pointed it downwards. The touch sent a shiver through my body, and as I sighed I could feel movement beneath my hands. Something down there was really straining to keep me hard, and even though dad's touch felt heavenly, I started working against it. Before long, I let out another contented sigh as I could finally empty my bladder. Dad held me all the time while he rubbed my back, and I almost wished it wouldn't end. But it did, and he shook me off, then turned towards the sink to wash his hands. I grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Dad, I really need to... you know..."

"You need to what?"

"You know..."

"No, I don't." I could tell he was lying, and I started to blush. "Enlighten me."

"Get off."

"I'm sorry." He backed away from me. "Did I stand too close to you?"

"Dad, will you make me beg?" I felt my face turn even redder.

"No, just tell me what you want, son." He hugged me again. "Just tell me."

"Can you do it for me? Please? It felt so good when you held it." I took his hand and brought it to my still hard penis. "Dad, please, it's beginning to hurt!"

"All right, Jimmy, but we need to hurry. The clock is ticking."

"Actually, it's not even seven yet." I grinned. "I moved it forward so it would ring."

"You little rascal." He shook his head, chuckling. "Okay, let's go back to bed, then."

"Right!" I ran ahead, turning at the top of the stairs to urge him on. "Hurry, dad, it's getting worse."

"I doubt it." He chuckled again. "Jimmy, this is a big step for me, okay? Please don't ask too much of me, just yet."

"Okay, dad." I looked down. "If you don't want to, I could..."

"No, it's okay this time, but I still need some time to re-adjust. The thought of doing sexy things with you is still... so new."

"I understand."

"Thanks, Jimmy." He sat down on the edge of the bed and made me sit on his lap. He held me with one arm, while the other hand stroked my inner thigh. The feeling made me shudder with pleasure. "I don't want to reject you, son, I just need to know that this really is what we want. That I won't hurt you in any way."

"You won't hurt me, dad, I trust you." I closed my eyes as his fingers brushed against my sac. "Please..."

He didn't answer, but leaned down to kiss my lips as his hand found my straining erection. He gently eased the foreskin back, just as our tongues met. I quivered with a mixture of delight and pain as his thumb rubbed the sensitive tip of my penis. The touch made me jump, and his hand disappeared and he broke the kiss. I opened my eyes just as he closed the drawer on the bedside table. He held up a little tube for me to see.

"I guess we'll need a little lube," he said, and squeezed out a clear drop of something viscous onto his index finger. "This'll do the trick. When you get older you will make your own lubrication. That's called pre-seminal fluid, because it's what comes out before you ejaculate."

"I remember that," I said. "From the time I rubbed your penis. It felt really slick."

"We'll, this works just as well." I shuddered as he touched the chilly droplet against my exposed head, smearing it out. "Feels okay?"

"A little cold, but it's getting better." He pulled my foreskin back and forth over the lube a couple of times, making me sigh and gasp with pleasure. "Dad, that's great!"

"Just relax and enjoy. Do you want to lie down?"

I nodded, and he leaned back and rolled over so we were both lying on our sides, facing each other. We were still so close I only had to inch my head forward to be able to kiss him. And I did, as he started to stroke me. Long, rhythmical movements that sent waves of pleasure throughout my body, making me jump every time he touched my glans. Pretty soon, I was forced to break the kiss, as I got afraid of banging our teeth together. Try as I might, I couldn't help squirming and jerking as he touched me. Then I felt my orgasm starting to build, and I wouldn't have been able to kiss him even if I'd had focus enough to try. He seemed to sense that I was getting close, because he slowed down, moving down so that he only touched my shaft, rubbing my tight sac on every stroke. This was something new to me, being denied my orgasm. I had never stopped while I was masturbating myself, but always kept going until I achieved release. This time, however, was different. Several times, dad would take me to the edge of the peak, then drag me back down before I could get over the top. I humped against his hand, desperate to get off, but he relented. I was so hard it almost hurt, and each time he let off I had tears of frustration in my eyes. He made me roll over to lie on my back, then moved along so his body half covered mine. I spread my legs to give him better access. He stroked me faster, squeezing my penis harder than before, and I hoped, yearned for this to be it. For release.

"Are you getting close, Jimmy?" he whispered. All I could do was grunt. "Okay, get ready for it."

I shut my eyes so hard I saw stars. Dad half sat up, and his free hand rubbed my stomach and chest, occasionally brushing against my nipples. I had no idea they had become so sensitive, and those touches made me gasp. My body was writhing on the bed, totally out of my control as I could feel my orgasm approaching again. This time, he didn't let up, but I didn't come, either. Instead, the good feeling just built and built, until finally I couldn't keep in a yell of pleasure. And I came. I pressed my penis into dad's palm, and he responded by squeezing it as it jumped almost violently. My breathing turned into a series of gasps and sighs, and I hugged him as tightly as I could, rubbing my face against his chest. The orgasm seemed to draw out as he kept stroking me, and I wasn't sure if I had a long one or two following each other. Eventually, though, the feeling started to abate, and dad lay down on his back, pulling me with him to lie on his chest and stomach. I sighed and shuddered, moaned and gasped as I seemed to settle into a state of dizziness. Dad held me in his arms, rubbing my back and my buttocks while he kissed the top of my head.

"It's the afterglow, son, just lie still and enjoy it."

I kept on shivering, hugging him tightly. Tears of joy were running down my cheeks as it seemed that this wondrous feeling wasn't going away. I felt like I wanted to squeeze him so hard I'd melt into his chest, merge with him. Become one with the love of my life. Dad pulled me up so he could kiss me on the lips, and I thrust my tongue into his mouth, desperate to show him how much I loved him. I think he got the message, because he kept rubbing my body while he mumbled into the kiss.

"I love you, Jimmy. God, I love you so much."

It felt like we lay there forever, but eventually the afterglow eased down to a feeling of satisfaction. A ghost of the glory I had just experienced, but still enough to put a wide grin on my face when we finally broke apart.

"Dad, that was..." I thought for a moment, but couldn't find a word strong enough to describe how I felt. "That was brilliant!"

"Yes, it was." He smiled warmly. "I had no idea you could come so hard."

"Me neither. I felt like I was on fire. Is sex always like this?"

"Jimmy, this wasn't really sex. I just masturbated you."

"You mean it gets better? I don't know if I can survive that."

"Heh. Come on, let's get started with breakfast."

"Just a minute, dad." I yawned, suddenly feeling very tired. "Let's just cuddle for a little while longer."

"Okay, son. A little while longer."

I laid my head down on his chest again, inhaling his wonderful scent through my nose. A bit of the afterglow still lingered, like little electric tingles across my skin, especially where it touched his naked body. I could feel his hard penis against my thighs, and I thought I'd ask him if I could reciprocate, but somehow the words never left my lips. Instead, my eyelids fell closed.

 

When I woke up again I felt like I was king of the world. Every fibre in my body remembered the sky-rattling orgasm I'd just had. I rolled around on the bed, catching dad's scent on the sheets, on the comforter. Then my eyes found the clock, and I froze. It was half past two. More than half the day was gone! A surge of panic swept through me as I leaped out of bed and climbed into my briefs. Not bothering to put anything else on, I ran downstairs and found dad in the kitchen. He was wearing boxers, a t-shirt and an apron, and was making pancakes. I pressed into his side and put my head beneath his arm. He hugged me and smiled at me, but I still felt tears well up in my eyes.

"Dad, I'm so sorry I slept so long." My voice was weak. "I just... I just thought I'd close my eyes for a second."

"It's okay, son. Set the table for us and we'll get something to eat."

"Wh-what about packing?"

"Oh, don't worry, I'm just about done."

"I'm sorry." I felt a tear run down my cheek as I put out plates. "I really wanted to help you."

"Like I said, don't worry." He tousled my hair as he set down a plateful of pancakes, then returned to the stove. "You slept so sweetly, I didn't have the heart to wake you up. I packed for you too, by the way."

"You did? But... how did you know what to pack?"

"Oh, I just grabbed some of your clothes and some of your toys. I hope it'll do, it's all in the car now."

"But dad, I'll have to do it all over again! You shouldn't have let me sleep!"

"Relax, baby." He loaded our plates with pancakes and sat down to eat. I poured us milk and opened the syrup bottle. Grinning, he reached out and pinched my cheek, wiping away the stray tear in the process. "You're not the only one who can mess with clocks."

"What?" He smiled and pointed to the kitchen wall clock. It was a quarter to nine. "Dad?"

"I thought I'd get back at you." He laughed, and even though I knew I should feel mad, I laughed too. "Gotcha, son."

"That was mean!" I pouted, but he just kept laughing. "I almost started crying."

"Poor little boy." He covered my pancakes with maple syrup. "Will you feel better if I said we still have all the packing ahead of us?"

"Not really." We started eating. "Dad?"

"Mhm?"

"I really wanted to... you know... do something back. You know, for this morning."

"Don't fret about that, Jimmy. Let's just take things as they come. No need to keep count on who does what."

"You made me feel so good, dad."

"It felt good for me too. You'll see, it sometimes feels even better to give someone pleasure than to receive it."

"I think I know what you mean." I took a sip of milk. "Back when I rubbed you, that felt so nice, too."

"Let's work today, son. The drive will take almost all of tomorrow, but then maybe we can think of something to do. Up in the cabin."

"Okay."

"Finish your lunch now. Oops, I mean breakfast."

"I'll get you for this, dad..."

I took a little syrup on my fork and flipped it towards him. It hit his chin, and before I had stopped laughing, another splat of syrup landed right between my eyes. We had a short, but intense syrup war, before we scoffed down our pancakes and hit the shower, both of us all sticky and gooey.

 

The rest of that day passed in a blur. I thought we packed enough things for a year-long vacation, but as we stuffed it all into the car it vanished pretty quickly. We had our camping gear and all the food we had bought, clothes and walking boots, swimming suits and rain coats, a deck of cards and some games. I had packed some toys, too. I really felt that I was too old for toys, but at the same time I often had fun with them. I told dad this, but he just smiled.

"Don't be in such a hurry to grow up, Jimmy. I hope you'll be my little boy for a while yet."

"I'll always be your little boy, dad." I hugged him tightly. "I just wanna feel a little more mature."

"You are very mature for your age." He kissed my cheek. "I'm glad you compensate that by being little and cute."

"Aww, dad!" I tried to sound crossed, but at the same time I melted into our hug. "You're so mushy."

We were sitting on the living room couch, me like always on dad's lap. The TV was on, but I wasn't watching. My mind was on tomorrow's journey. All we had left to do was to hand the house keys over to Mrs Richards, then we could be off. Dad hadn't told me much about the cabin, only that it was quite solitary, smack in the middle of nature. Most of Sunday would be spent on the road, which suited me fine. I loved car rides, the longer the better. Especially when you know you're going somewhere fun. I yawned. Apart from all the packing, we had also cleaned the house from cellar to attic, a sort of delayed spring cleaning and a way to keep from getting scolded by Mrs Richards when we returned. Not that our house was every dirty, but that woman throws a fit at the sight of a single mote. A dust bunny would've had her calling in the national guard. So we cleaned, and all the work, far more than any ten-year-old should ever have to endure, had me tired. And it was only nine o'clock. I kissed dad good night, brushed my teeth and crawled in beneath the comforter. Dad came up to tuck me in, and we shared one more good night kiss, this time a long one. Then he went back downstairs to watch the news, while I drifted off.

 

Sunday morning was beautiful. The sun shone from an all but cloudless sky, and a slight breeze took away the worst heat. When I woke up I was alone in bed. I hadn't heard when dad went to bed, or when he got up. It was half past seven, and from downstairs I could hear dad talking to Mrs Richards, while a smell of bacon spread throughout the house. I got dressed and went downstairs, smiling at Mrs Richards as she tousled my hair.

"My, Jimmy, I think you grow a little every day, don't you?"

"Well, I guess so. My clothes still fit, though."

"You make sure you have a lot of fun now, do you hear?" She held up the key for us to see, to make sure she had got it. "That goes for both of you, and if you find the time, send me a postcard, will you?"

"We will, Mrs Richards," dad said as we waved her off. "Thanks for watching the house for us."

"What else are neighbours for?"

Meanwhile, I set the table for us. Dad had made bacon and eggs, sausages and fried potatoes and some French toast. There was so much to eat I had no idea where to start. Half an hour later, though, it was all gone, and neither of us felt inclined to move.

"Oooh, dad, why did you cook so much?"

"Better than letting it go to waste. You didn't really have to eat that last round of toast and sausages."

"You cook to well, dad." I groaned, then burped loudly. "My stomach will see you in court."

"You're suing your old man? That's gratitude for you!"

"Relax, you'd win the case. Just bribe the judge with your lasagne."

"Unless that's final evidence." We helped clear the table, then he handed me an apron. "If you do the dishes, I'll take the car down to get some fuel."

"No way, dad, let's switch chores!"

"Do you really think you'll get past the mailbox?" We both laughed. "Remember when Timmy Hawkins thought he'd take his daddy's car down to the mall?"

"Yeah, I remember that!" I laughed at the memory. "His butt was beet red for a week after that. Everybody'd point at it in gym shower. Poor Timmy!"

"Well, Chad Hawkins had to get a complete new paint job on that car, and replace a couple of bicycles and hedges as well."

"Dad, stop!" I clutched my aching belly. "You're giving me cramps!"

 

With the dishes cleared away, we gave the house a last check to see if there were and lights or such left on. There were none; we even unplugged my clock radio, so dad locked the door and we were off. Once we were out of town and dad sped up, I settled back to enjoy the ride. I watched a field of grazing sheep, some ducks swimming lazily in a lake, a bunch of kids playing at the edge of a forest. It didn't take long before I started to yawn, but then dad opened the glove compartment and handed me a chocolate bar. Seemed like he had stocked up on more than gas. We found a radio station that played some good rock'n'roll, but kept it low so we could chat without being disturbed. I told dad about all the things I wanted to do once we were at the cabin; swimming, fishing, hiking. He told me that there were a couple of rivers crossing a forest near the cabin, and if we went back a way there was a place where we could rent a canoe. I had never done that before, and my tiredness gave way to excitement. I just couldn't stop talking about our vacation, and it seemed like dad never got tired of listening. He managed to get a word or two in every time I drew breath, but mostly it was a monologue. We stopped to rest and stretch our legs a couple of times during the morning, then had lunch at a truck stop. The food was great, and came in huge helpings. Stuffed, I slept for an hour while dad kept driving. When I woke up again, the landscape around us had changed. The open fields and farm country were gone, replaced by tall forests, low mountains, lakes and rivers. It was beautiful, especially in the bright sunlight, and I often persuaded dad to pull over so I could take pictures. My camera had been a christmas present; one of those cool digital ones where you can see the picture on a little display on the back. I had loaded up with discs, and I almost filled the first one during the car trip. The air changed, too. Up in the mountains, it wasn't as hot as it had been back home, and the air had a moist, clear quality to it. To a city child like me, every breath tasted like a piece of heaven. After we had stopped for a snack and some fuel at a gas station, dad left the main road for a much narrower one. Like a mule track, I thought, but he just laughed. A while later, I understood why. The road here was little more than a dirt path, filled with bumps and pot-holes. At an intersection, dad turned left, pointing to the right road.

"Down there is a camping site, that's where we can rent a canoe. There's also a public bath if you ever get tired of skinny-dipping in the lake."

"You've been here before?"

"Yeah. My dad took me to this cabin when I was seventeen, and I fell in love with the place." We passed a dangerously scruffy-looking bridge, with a river passing by way below. I held my breath, but it actually held. "Then it was sold, and for a couple of years it wasn't available for rent."

"So, I guess they got tired of it, the people who bought it, I mean."

"Must have. Crazy people, if that's so. You'll see, Jimmy, it's a place you'll long to get back to."

"Did you ever? I mean, until now?"

"Once. I'll tell you about it when we get there." He pointed to the right, and I managed to snap a picture of a couple of grazing deer. "Then it got unavailable again, but when I saw the new ad, I just threw myself on the phone. It's a place I just have to show my son."

"Wow. Is it far?"

"No." Suddenly, the road ended, and dad parked on a spot of grass. He killed the engine and we got out of the car. "In fact, we're already here."

 

 

 

Well, here's chapter three. Thanks, everybody who has written to me. It's really encouraging to know that you all read and enjoy my story. I'm really looking forward to hear your views on this chapter, as well as what you new readers think. Chapter four is under way alreday, but I have no idea how soon I'll get it finished. My e-mail address is winterimage@hotmail.com