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It was a school night, like any other night in the last four years. My son, now the ripe old age of nine, and I had given up the pretense of separate beds years ago, saving that room for the rare times he had friends spend the night. The day was now done, and without the prodding necessary of other boys his age, he turned off his computer game and got ready for the evening shower. Unlike other boy's his age, however, I was also joining him.
Closing the bedroom suite door, we made our way to the large walk-in closet and shed the day's clothes. While we were father and son outside of this room, as the door shut, we became equals and lovers. As we quickly stripped, we talked about the day's events. He discussed what he was doing in school and talked about his friends, and equally openly I talked about work and the family finances. We hid nothing from each other and, just as importantly, truly cared about what the other was saying.
As was tradition, when we were undressed, I picked him up and carried my sweet child to the bathroom. He was getting bigger, but I was making sure to keep up with the workout so I could carry him as long as possible. As I laid him feet first on the tile floor of the bathroom and started the shower, letting the water warm. My son scampered to get towels and washcloths as I adjusted shower's settings. Finding everything in its place, we join each other under the running water, and I lean down and properly kiss my boy for the first time since we awoke.
Knowing each other intimately, we share a passionate kiss, his small tongue flirting with mine. My hands rub all over my boy, though without the urgency of new lovers, with all the same passion. Every time I gaze upon the pale, hairless flesh of my blond haired beauty, I fall in love with him all over again. As I feel the soft skin of his round, but skinny butt, my body begins to react, anticipating sharing each other yet again.
When we break our kiss, I gaze into my son's blue-green eyes, seeing his kind and loving soul. He also stares back at me, rediscovering his father yet again tonight. I brush the light freckling of his soft cheek, and he holds my hand there for a moment, before kissing it gently. I remind him of my love for him, and he does the same. As we hold each other's hands, saying nothing, the sound of the splashing water echoes warmly through the room.
Soon though, the nightly routine continues, and my son begins to wash me. I sit on the floor, giving him access to my head. He gently massages in shampoo, making sure to clean me well. It has been years since I had to give him instructions to make sure I ended up clean, and now I just sat back enjoying the feel of my son bathing me, an activity he has demanded since we became lovers.
With the first rinse, he repeated the process, his small fingers slowly massaging the conditioner deep into my scalp. I moaned at the pleasureful release of stress. No matter what the day held, my boy's gentle fingers in my hair made all right with the world.
However, time stood still for no man, and soon he was rinsing me again. He then lathered up his cloth and began to clean me all over. Starting at my face, his gentle but deft touch cleared the dirt of the day. He worked down my chest and arms, making sure I was clean, picking his conversation about the day back up as well.
After thoroughly scrubbing my back, I stood up. He gently moved to my rising penis, paying special attention to it. As he slowly washed the hardening shaft, he quieted down, licking his lips in anticipation. I rubbed his hair, letting my fingers drift down beside his ear, causing my son to tilt his head, close his eyes and coo. However, he took only a moment to enjoy my touch before moving on to washing my shaved balls, making sure to clean the area thoroughly. Stubble was forming, but this weekend there would be time to clean properly, and today he only rubbed them enough to clean them well and enjoy touching his dad where most boys could not. He then had me turn around and deftly cleaned my behind, sticking one of his small fingers up into the hole he knew well. I moaned in approval as he did so, and as a reward he lingered momentarily playing with the sensitive skin. He then moved on to wash my legs, and feet, getting every crack of every toe.
I moved under the running water and rinsed. It was now my turn to wash my boy, an activity I both relished and looked forward to every day. Like him, I started by washing the small child's hair, first quickly with shampoo, then lingering with the conditioner. With the gel keeping his short hair soft, I gently rubbed my son's soft scalp. He sighed contentedly as I took my time, letting him enjoy the sensation as much as I had moments ago. Feeling my son relax under me, totally trusting me was a sensation that I tried desperately to describe, but the warmth it gave me defied description.
However, both sensing the time, and my own arousal, I rinsed him. I then repeated the same process he had done to me just minutes past. I started by washing his cute freckled face, him smiling at me with his eyes closed, tapping his nose as I finished. He dipped his head under the running water, rubbing his eyes as he looked at me. We both remained quiet, enjoying each other's touch as I lifted his right arm, gently stroking up and down it with the soapy cloth. I paid special attention to his hairless armpit, an area on him I found especially beautiful, while my deft and experienced touch preventing too many giggles. The cloth continued to his right arm, repeating the process along the small but developing muscles. Silently, though his smile and slightly glazed eyes, my boy thanked me for the attention.
I then let the cloth drift gently across his light chest, definition still years from fully forming. My mouth watered as the white rag brushed against his cream colored, dime sized nipples, wishing for more time tonight to properly suck and harden each in turn. As I brushed his stomach, I momentarily became solemn, lamenting the changes that would wrack his body soon, yet looked forward to the man he would become.
Letting the cloth drift lower, I then gently rubbed the soap around his now three inch hard dick. The child's foreskin still covered him, but he was slowly being able to retract it now when we made love. I gently pulled back the skin to wash the flared glands in front of me. Seeing his bright red penis tip always filled me with lust, and while he was still soapy, I masturbated my boy a few strokes, causing a small croon of contentment.
When I stopped, my son sighed, knowing we would soon continue, but impatient for release. We then continued the nightly ritual and I turned him around and washed his beautiful, firm but round ass, devoid of any flaw. I loved staring at his cute butt, almost as much as I enjoyed being in it. I pulled his cheeks apart gently, exposing his tiny rosebud, and with my little finger, washed inside the tight hole. As tonight was a weeknight, I would not have the time to get him ready for a full fucking, but I still enjoyed giving him the pleasure of a father's touch up his small hole. As my little finger cleaned and massaged his most private of places, his small hand wrapped around his dick and pumped it. However, before he got too far, I stopped and brushed his hand away, signaling that I wanted to take care of him. He sighed again, frustrated.
Aroused myself, I quickly finished washing my boy, admitting silently to myself that I didn't get his feet quite as well as I normally would have. We then shared the running water, him shedding the soap that I had just covered him with, and me rinsing the remnants of bathing my boy.
As was tradition, I stepped out of the shower first and dried myself while my son remained warm in the running water. When my towel had sufficiently absorbed the water, and I felt dry, I snatched the second towel as my boy shut the water off. Dutifully, I went about my fatherly task of drying him, and joyfully went about my lover's task of kissing his beautiful lips. I then carried him to the sink, where side-by-side we brushed our teeth. As we had done since he was much smaller, we kissed before we rinsed, sharing our toothpaste, laughing as we rinsed.
I then carried my boy, towel and all, and placed him on the king-sized bed. Looking at the time, I realized that we were running late tonight, and should be asleep soon. So without as much foreplay as I enjoyed during the weekend, I undid his towel, exposing his hard dick. Taking a moment, I gazed at his beautiful form, noting where his skin lightened on his torso, and the milky white, hairless skin seemed to lead to his three inch cock and recently hanging balls. I gently massaged the two small, soft eggs, letting my fingers explore the folds I knew so well.
As I bent down to get a closer look at my son's package, the scent of his lust mixed with the light, clean fragrance of our recent shower. Overcome for a need to have my son, I quickly engulfed his penis and balls whole, a maneuver that my boy loved and one that I would do as long as his growing body would allow. My tongue massaged the child-sized orbs, causing my son to squeak in joy. I then let the small masses fall out of my lips, and sucked on his hard penis tightly, my tongue deftly skinning his small cock, and traversing the small fold of skin before pressing into the slit. My boy's hips bucked, trying to get more into me, and I pressed down on him, holding him steady.
Knowing we did not have the time to waste, I sucked on him hard and fast, bobbing up and down on his cocklet while beginning to masturbate my own dick. The repetitive and familiar exercise of showing my son my love through pleasure quickly brought the expected, yet longed for results. Although my son gave a valiant effort to hold out, soon the delectable pressure of his orgasm began to build. Despite my best efforts to hold him down, his hips buck hard into me, his body quivered and he cried out for his dad in the most delicious and heady voice. I continued to gently suck on him as wave after wave of pleasure engulfed his small form, picking up the speed that I masturbated myself.
Soon, his orgasm subsided and his body calmed, the blissful shaking of his dry orgasm passing. Knowing I needed release, he grabbed the jar of Vaseline that was kept beside the bed. I then climbed upon my boy, to my favorite weekday position, and placed my cock on his soft stomach. Wordlessly, we gazed into each other's eyes, thanking each other for the pleasure we had just received and would continue to draw.
Smearing the jelly on my cock and both of his hands, he then held my dick tightly to himself. I then began to quickly thrust though his small hands, my cock's head passing in and out of view along his chest, brushing by his outstretched thumbs as he laid there smiling, knowing he was giving me the release I needed. For a few minutes, I pumped along his stomach, my balls gently brushing his softening dick. Seeing the head almost as large as his hands peak in and out, I groaned. I looked at my boy in the eyes and whispered sweet nothings, which he responded by firming his grip on my dick. With the added pressure combined with the silky softness of my son's smooth stomach, I didn't last long and was soon shooting, covering first his face with my cum, then his chest, then dribbling the rest into his hands.
When I came down, I smiled at my child, and let him know how much I loved him. I then began the ritual of cleaning him by licking the cum off of his face and sharing it with him with a kiss. For a few moments we swapped the fluid between us, until there was none left to be had. I then continued down the boy's body, licking up the globs, and continuing to share it with him via kisses, until there was no more left. I then gracefully got up and went to the bathroom, cleaning my own dick, and warming a cloth. Returning, I gently wipe the remnants of our lovemaking off my boy as he started to drift off to sleep.
Before the night overtakes his small form, I position him in the soft sheets, covering him with a blanket. I then set the alarms for the morning, turn off the lights and snuggle close to him, pulling his body in close to mine. As sleep overtakes him I whisper my affection for him once more, and drift off to sleep myself, happy for another normal night with my son.
---- End ----
I hope you enjoyed the story!
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