Date: Sat, 18 Jan 2014 16:09:12 -0500 (EST)
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Bedtime Moves

			       BEDTIME MOVES
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     I was back with Martha. I'd married her when she was pregnant with my
first child, and we'd agreed to not have any more children. When she got
knocked up again, I couldn't take it and we'd fought and I'd moved out,
gotten a divorce. God, I didn't make much money (minimum wage jobs more
often than not), and my current construction work wasn't much better. When
the weather turns bad, construction work turns from long hours six days a
week to a few hours now and then...if you're lucky. But I had a couple of
thousand dollars in the bank, Martha's back alimony gave her the right to
most of that money and the compromise was that we'd get back together until
spring and I'd turn the money over to her . A two-bedroom apartment, I'd
have to share Martha's bed with her, but that was okay. Somehow or other,
she'd gotten hold of a king-sized bed, plenty of room for two people to
sleep in without crowding or even touching.

     I was getting to know my children again after years of barely knowing
them at all. My oldest had turned into a strapping tumblebug of a boy,
ready to roughhouse and play and we spent a lot of time just tussling
around on the living room carpet. Sheila, the daughter who'd been born when
I was already gone, was way too shy, she clung to Martha like a parasite,
on Martha's hip or clinging to her leg. Sheila was nearly four years old,
and I suspected Martha was still breastfeeding her, the way that little
girl kept hugging at one of Martha's distended breasts.

     As for Martha...Martha had gone to seed. Welfare and my alimony checks
(sporadic) had left her with nothing to do but sit around and watch TV and
eat. The thought of sex with her was disgusting, thank God she made it
clear that while we were sharing the bed, we wouldn't be sharing anything
else. "And if I can find another bed for you, you'll move into it fast as I
can drag it in the door. I'm only taking you back because of the children,
James!" she declared several times.

     To which I always replied, "And the children are the only reason I'm
coming back!"

     After we'd squabbled out all the pent-up hostility, things settled
down to a reasonably placid setup and by the time we were ready to go to
bed, I was feeling halfway resigned to this situation. Martha had put two
separate sets of blankets on the bed, so we weren't in any danger of
touching our naked bodies together. Not that she got naked, but I did strip
down to my briefs to get into my bed.

     Martha was staring at my mostly-naked body. "What?" I asked her.

     She actually cracked a smile. "I'm remembering why I married you."

     I kept from barfing; Martha was about eighty pounds heavier than she'd
been when I'd married her! "Construction work takes a lot of muscle." I
settled for saying. "It can put some on you." I flexed a bicep. Let her see
what she'd given up. And then we both got into bed.

     Now, I'd been without any contact from any kind of woman long enough
that I may have considered folding those blankets together and letting the
darkness cover up her added poundage.

     But then it happened.

     "Mommy? Mommy?" came Sheila's call.

     And Martha promptly opened her covers and Sheila clambered in to lie
beside her.

     This didn't surprise me considering what I'd witnessed all day long,
but it did dismay me. No hide-the-sausage as long as we had company no
matter how I felt about it! "How often does she sleep with you?"

     "Not every night." Martha said, which for her was the same as saying
it was every night. "Why do you care?" She shifted to make room for her
child and now the bed was beginning to feel crowded, her butt was pressing
against my thigh. Ugh!

     Martha was cooing and baby-talking Sheila and I was wondering how long
this would go on until I heard, "Momma? Momma?"

     "Nash, baby." Martha said. "I told you you'd have to stay in your room
long as your Daddy is here."

     "He sleeps with you too?" Sheila didn't worry me that much, at
not-quite-four. But Nash was years older than his sister and it was time he
slept alone.

     "Yes, James. But you're sleeping where he usually sleeps."

     "Oh." What else could I say?

     "Go back to your own room, Nash." Martha said.

     Something in me rebelled at that. I mean, it wasn't that I liked the
idea of Nash sleeping with his mother at his age, but to make ME the reason
he lost that privilege rankled. Bad enough being the absent dad to a young
boy, turning me into the villain that took away his bedtime-with-mommy just
added insult to injury. I promptly switched loyalties on the entire
subject. "I guess if Sheila is going to sleep with us, Nash can, too." I
declared.

     "In this bed?" Martha cut in. "How is he going to fit?"

     She had a point. "I guess you and Sheila could trade off." I told
Nash. "You sleep in your bed tonight and Sheila will sleep in her bed
tomorrow night."

     Sheila understood enough of that to pitch a loud wail. "Don't worry,
baby." Martha crooned to her. "Mommy won't make you sleep in your own bed
if you don't want to."

     I realized that this was going to be the start of many, many nights
like this. I'd already picked up on the fact that Nash was being neglected
in favor of Sheila, nothing dangerous, but he was definitely second in
Martha's books. "Then we'll just have to make room." I lifted the covers up
and pushed the back of my body against Martha as much as I dared. "Scrunch
on in, sport."

     Nash crawled in and pressed up against my body, we fit well enough,
though I was touching Martha through the covers even with me on my side,
Martha's back was to us, and she kept soothing Sheila who was still
whimpering and blubbering, I felt Nash's body against mine and I realized,
whispered, "Nash! Are you naked?"

     "Uh-huh." Nash gave a sort of wet giggly sound to his whispered
answer. "Aren't you?" His leg came up and felt my briefs. "Mom said you
slept naked, so I pulled mine off."

     We were speaking softly and Martha was absorbed in her daughter's
comforting. "I normally do." I admitted.

     "Take them off, Daddy." Nash softly urged me. "Please?"

     You got to remember how things were. I was with my son for the first
time in years. He was the only member of this family that accepted me
back. Sheila treated me like a stranger, Martha treated me like a leech,
only Nash accepted me as his father. And Martha was busily playing gently
and lovingly with her daughter on the other side of me. Fenced off from me
by two layers of blankets and four years of bad memories. I couldn't redeem
either of them...but I could redeem my relationship with Nash.

     "All right." I whispered. "But you'll have to do it for me. I can't
move." I couldn't, not without either knocking Nash off the bed or shaking
Martha more than I dared.

     Nash gave that soft wet giggle again and he sidled down under the
covers, he had to crawl over my body to do it, but he got his hands on my
briefs. The elastic was old and loose on my body, he got them down without
much trouble, I only had to lift my hips and he had them down and off my
feet. Martha grunted and hissed at me to settle my damn kid down and now,
she had just gotten her baby to sleep. Nash was "my kid" and Sheila was
"her baby." Like I said, Nash ran a poor second against Sheila in this
house.

     Nash snuggled up against me in the bed and I said to him, softly
still. "All right, Son. Now settle down and go to sleep."

     Nash did settle down and the soft sound of his breathing was really
soothing. It was like the best of my time with Martha had returned to me in
the form of my son. I fell right asleep.

     I awakened again with no idea what time it was. Martha was snoring
hard, with Sheila lying on top of her. It gave me more room than I'd
started with and I was lying on my own back now. But that wasn't what had
wakened me. Had it been the snoring?

     And then I felt it and I knew. Nash had hold of my cock. I had an
erection, whether from his hand or just the woody I usually threw in my
sleep, I don't know. He was fondling it, just playing with it, feeling it
out, holding it. He wasn't lying beside me any longer.

     I reached down and felt for him. Nash had scooted down under the
covers and I finally found his head way down where my cock was. I realized
he was lying with his head on my thigh and I got hold of his head and Nash
felt me touching him and scooted up to rest his head on my chest. His hand
never left my cock.

     "You shouldn't be doing that, Son." I told him softly as I could.

     "Why not?"

     Why not? Yeesh, what a question? In the middle of night in a crowded
bed! Crowded, yes! "You'll wake up your mother and sister." I could work on
the other details later...when I figured out how to phrase it!

     "I'll be quiet." and Nash darted back under the covers.

     "Son, son, I...!" That was as far as I got before Nash was back at his
post, and now his hand was working on actively flogging me! If I'd had a
"sleep erection" before, I had a full on boner now! "Oh, oh, God!" I hissed
out. "Nash, you got to stop that right now!"

     Nash either didn't hear me or chose not to hear me. Kids can be
selectively deaf at his age...hell, at any age. His hand got busier still
and I reached my hand down and got it on his head again. All I intended to
do when I threaded my hand into his hair was get enough of a hold to pull
him back up where I could talk to him.

     But instead, I pushed his head up against my cock, his lips landed on
it. Soft, wet lips on my dong and the sensation was one I hadn't felt in a
long, long, long time! "Ooohhhh!" was what slipped out from me in lieu of
another warning.

     Nash lifted away and then his mouth returned. I realized that he was
licking what must be precome off of my shaft! "What are you doing?" I
whispered.

     Nash had chased my precome to its source, my hand still with my
fingers laced into his hair, and he caught hold of my glans and sucked and
I moaned and more precome oozed out, I could feel it on my glans and then
Nash's tongue licking it away.

     Something in my senses stopped fighting it, my hand began to move my
son's head back and forth on my cock. I don't know if Nash moved from some
sort of prior knowledge or just was following some deeper instinct (sucking
a lollipop), but he began to actually suck on my cock, moving his lips up
and down, pulling on my shaft. He had my moans, soft as I could moan them,
to guide him. I let go and he kept working on me just the same. By now,
he'd figured out that doing this made his Daddy feel really good and he
wanted to keep me feeling good!

     Soon, Nash was working on my pud like he'd been born to the work. I
shivered, casting nervous glances over to my ex-wife and daughter asleep
right beside me. Her snores were a comfort, they told me she was still
soundly sleeping, oblivious to how my son was sucking my cock right next to
her.

     God, this was so fucking impossible! I had to stop this, I couldn't
let him do this to me, I had to stop him, I had to reach down and prevent
him from doing this, tell him it was wrong, tell him to never again...never
again.... God, I couldn't even make myself think it! If I did...he'd have
to stop!

     Waves of pleasure were racing through my brain. God, I was getting off
by being sucked by my own son! What the fuck was wrong with me that I could
just lie here like this, let him do this to me? I had to stop him, right
now, before...before...oh, God, too late!

     "Ah, ah, ah-hah, hahhhhhh!" was my muffled yells of climax, as I
sprayed my spunk into my son's mouth. Nash didn't hesitate as I came, he
sucked on my prick like it was so much milk, drinking me down as quick as I
shot it out. I was shivering all over, breathing like an asthmatic old man,
and when I finished unloading my balls into my son's mouth, I panted.

     Nash sucked me absolutely dry and then he crawled back up me and his
head poked out from under the covers. "Wow, Daddy, what was that?"

     "I came, baby, I shot my wad."

     "What's a wad?"

     I sighed, chuckled softly, and said, "I'll explain it to you tomorrow,
okay?"

     "Okay, Daddy."

     I got Nash back up against my body, spoon-fashion in my embrace, his
back up against me, and we went back to sleep again.

     Again I awoke in the darkness. At first, I wondered if Nash had gotten
hold of my cock again, then I realized that he was still asleep, his little
buttocks pressed up against my groin. I had another one of those sleep
erections. And my cock had somehow wormed itself between my son's
legs. Covered in my son's silken flesh, warm in between those tender
thighs, no wonder I was hard again.

     Well, he was asleep. He wouldn't mind, anyhow. Just a few motions to
make myself feel the warmth and the pleasure one more time. My hips moved
gently, making short, easy motions, sliding my prick back and forth between
my son's legs. My cockshaft was rubbing against his testicles, I could feel
them like tiny soft marbles on my glans and upper shaft.

     Nash stirred as I fucked at his warm, small body. "Daddy?" He
murmured.

     "Shush, Son." I told him. "Go back to sleep."

     "Mmm." Nash sighed as he felt my cock sliding between his thighs,
rubbing his ballsac. "Feels, good, Daddy."

     "It sure does." I reached down and my hand found Nash's dick, I could
just catch hold of it in two of my fingers, and Nash sighed again as I
began to fondle him, small gentle strokes of my fingers, working his dick.

     "That's nice, Daddy." Nash whispered. "You feel so good."

     "So do you, Son, so do you." I promised him.

     "I want to sleep with you every night, okay?"

     "Sounds good to me, baby." God, my dong was beginning to heat up, now
that Nash was awake and loving it. My fingers were wiggling his dick and
Nash was beginning to grunt in his pleasure at his father's fingers on his
cock.

     "We can do this every night, okay?"

     "Sure, Son, sure!" I panted. "You can sleep with me every night. I
promise, every night."

     Nash began to moan and grunt and I knew that he was having his
little-boy climax, that dry tingling that is better than anything he'd ever
felt in his life. He stopped just as my own orgasm kicked in and I kept
right on pumping his weiner as I thrust at his warm little body with my own
passion taking control.

     "Oh, Daddy, sleep with me every night, okay, okay?"

     "Sure, Son, every night, I promise, I promise."

     "Oh, oh, oh, Daddy, oh, oh, oh, Daddy, oh!" Nash was having a second
climax, this one was shaking his entire body! I remembered a similar
incident in my own past, my brother's fingers on my cock, he hadn't stopped
when I told him to, and I'd been hit immediately after by the most intense
orgasm I've ever had, before or since! Nash was having that climax now.

     And so was I. "Ah, yeah, Son, sleep with you, sleep with you,
Ah-ah-GAHH-AHHHHH!"

     "Uh, uh, uhhhhh!" That was Martha. My God, we'd woken her up! "James,
what is all that racket?"

     Both Nash and I were too exhausted to answer. Caught, totally
caught. Martha would have to be an idiot not to realize what we'd been
doing!

     An idiot or a person awakened from a very deep sleep. "Can't you two
talk some other time?"  She asked next.

     Nash had caught his breath quicker than me. "Daddy said I could sleep
with him every night!"

     "Every night? Oh, no, God, no!" Martha promptly answered. "This bed is
too small."

     "I know." I agreed. "That's why I'm moving into Nash and Sheila's
bedroom. You and Sheila can sleep in here, Nash and I will sleep in there."

     "Nash's bed is awful small." Martha pointed out.  Nash had a
three-quarter bed.  "You two will have to sleep on top of each other.

     Nash giggled at that.  "No worse than this." I said. "We'll be fine."

     "Yeah, Momma, we'll be fine." Nash agreed.

     "Okay, anything, just shut up and go back to sleep."

     "Let's go to my bedroom right now!" Nash demanded.

     "Yes, why not go there right now?" Martha agreed. "Then you two can
talk all night long. Anytime you want, all night long, as far as I
care. Just shut up now, it's the middle of the night!"

     "Let's go, Son."

     We surrendered the king-sized bed to Martha and Sheila and I climbed
into Nash's bed. It was small as I'd said, but it was big enough. I lay
down and Nash crawled in by me. "Now we can play anytime we like!" he
crowed.

     "That's right, Son." I agreed. "Any time we like, all night long."

     Nash's hand grabbed hold of my cock and I took his and, holding each
other like that with him resting partly upon my chest, we both fell soundly
asleep.

     It had taken most of the night, but Martha and I had worked out the
best sleeping arrangement for our little reconstructed family after all.

				  THE END
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