Date: Sat, 25 Feb 2023 00:31:20 +0000 (UTC)
From: Jeremy Reynolds <jeremyreynolds1234@myyahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 11 of Caught under the sink

Hello! The usual Nifty disclaimers apply! Please email responses to:
jeremyreynolds1234@myyahoo.com

This story features themes of gay incest, between a father and his minor
son.

Chapter 11: Sammy (Son)


I paused at the door, looked down at myself to make sure I looked alright,
and took a deep breath before entering into the dining room.

It was dim, the lights having been mostly turned off, and Dad had some
light, smooth jazz music playing in the background. My nose was greeted by
some pleasant aromas--Dad had apparently made something with tomatoes, and
some kind of meat, maybe beef. He had also set up the dining table so that
it was topped with a table cloth, lit candles, neatly arranged plates, a
couple platters, and tall and skinny wine glasses. I saw a bottle of what
looked like champagne set near the middle, by the candles.

As for Dad himself, he was something to behold, and he had been truthful
when he had said we would be dressed similarly tonight. He stood behind one
of the two chairs, smiling at me and gazing at me in that "intoxicated" way
again (as perhaps I was gazing at him then, in that moment, myself!). He
wore a Navy blue, silky robe, it being closed somewhat tightly against his
waist by a piece of shimmering silk fabric tied there. I saw hints of his
chest, though, in the "V" the collar made. His robe was also short, as mine
was, coming far up the thigh, revealing his gorgeous, muscular legs. In his
arms he held a fairly large teddy bear, that had on a little T-shirt with a
heart on it.

"Wow, Dad," I exclaimed, stepping toward him. "This is amazing, all of
this!"

"It's our first date," he replied, looking like he was blushing a bit,
something I couldn't confirm in the dim light. "I want it to be memorable."

"Oh, it will be," I said, as I came up to him.

He handed me the bear and said, "Just a little something for my sweetie pie
... You look great, by the way!" He looked me up and down.

Now I was definitely blushing. "You do too, Daddy. I like the blue on you,
and the red looks great on me, I think."

"Yeah it does," he said, coming up to me and putting his hands on my waist,
seeming to enjoy feeling the smooth fabric of my robe, as much as I enjoyed
feeling his.

"I'm already so hard, Daddy," I said, looking up at him with as cute a grin
as I could manage.

"Me too," he said, and pressed against me so that I could feel it, hard
against my stomach through the fabric. "You're also making me so wet right
now." He leaned down and we kissed, this time very deeply, mouths wide and
tongues clashing in a passionate and tender way. As we kissed, I brought my
hands down to his thighs and caressed them on the side, my hand at times
drifting up underneath the hem of the robe.

We broke our kiss and he pulled out one of the chairs a little, motioning
for me to sit in it, which I did. He remained standing and handled the
bottle, which did turn out to be champagne. He carefully plopped it open.

"Would you like a little?" he asked, pointing it at my glass.

"Maybe just a little," I said, feeling nervous about how it would turn out
if I drank too much my first time. He seemed to be understanding and poured
only a little in my glass and then poured more into his own. I put the
glass to my lips and sipped. It had a really funny flavor. I think I had
been imagining that it would taste like soda, but it was far from that! It
was kind of tasty though, anyway. I felt a little warmth in my stomach and
a slight burning in my throat after I swallowed.

"What do you think?" Dad asked.

"Oh, it's ... interesting," I said.

"We'll be careful."

For dinner, he had made us some of his famous spaghetti and meatballs. He
spooned some onto my plate from the platter, and gave me a piece of garlic
bread from another platter. He took some of each himself and we ate and
drank (me only occasionally!) and talked about random things, like how the
food was and about what others of his meals I enjoyed, and things like
that. Finally, things turned back toward us, or our budding relationship.

"Dad, I had no idea you were such a romantic," I related. "I thought I was
the only one who is into this stuff in the family."

"I used to be more like this," he said. "Your mom thought was really
romantic."

"Do you still love her?" I asked, immediately regretting it. "I mean, um--"

"It's ok, Sammy. The answer is yes, I think I do ..." He looked off to the
side for a moment, looking deep in thought. "I think that maybe ... if you
ever truly love someone, you'll always love them, even if the relationship
ends in some way ..." He looked back at me, and smiled shyly. "Well, I
don't know about any of that."

We ate again in silence for a minute, listening to the smooth music and
mostly staring into each others eyes, or possibly lips (at least I was!).

"Do you remember the moment you knew you had feelings for me?" Dad asked,
putting down his fork and taking a sip of the champagne.

"I think ... it was at the pool one time, a year or so ago, when I first
noticed how ..." I searched for words. "... I felt about you as a man, and
as a sexual being, instead of only a dad or my dad ..."

"You are so smart!" Dad said, interrupting. "You are far smarter than an 11
year old should be!"

I blushed and smiled at the compliment. "Thank you. I think you're smart
too, Daddy."

"But go on," he urged.

"Hmmm, so that's when I think I realized I was very attracted to you, that
you were a very sexy man." I winked at him and he beamed silently. "But I
think it wasn't until some time later, on one of our game nights, that I
think I knew I loved you. There was just something about your smile that
night, or your laugh ... I don't know. But that night I wrote in my journal
that I loved you, more than as my dad."

He and I looked into each others eyes again. Then he asked, "Would you ever
be willing to show your journal to me?"

"Of course I would!" I said, and chuckled playfully. "You are my boyfriend
now, Dad. I can't keep any secrets from you!"

He shifted in his chair and leaned over to the side of the table, and we
kissed. Mmmm, he tasted so good, maybe even better with the hints of
marinara and champagne in his breath and on his lips. He lay his hand on my
thigh and slowly caressed it up to and then underneath the hem a little. I
felt myself becoming aroused again as he touched me and as our kiss
continued and grew wetter and slightly more intense.

We pulled away from each other again, but still leaned in somewhat. He took
my hand and rubbed his thumb over a part of it again, as he had done before
several times.

"Do you want your desert now, or later?" he asked.

"Oooo, what is it?" I asked, feeling excited, and not aware that he might
have been using an innuendo. (He wasn't!)

"Well, how about we wait til after ..." he began slowly, "... well, after
you know ..."

I laughed. "I like the mystery, Dad. It makes it more exciting. Yes, we can
wait."

"Nice ..." He looked at me, then toward the stereo, where a lovely romantic
tune played, then back at me. "Would you care to dance, sweetheart?" He
held out his hand, the gentleman!

I took it and nodded. We stood up and made our way toward an open part of
the dining room. We stood in front of each other and he put his hands
around my waist, and I reached up and hung my arms around his neck (I had
seen some movies where this was shown). We gazed into each other's eyes,
and began to rock slowly and rhythmically, doing little circles after a
while. He caressed my side and my waist, and a couple times seemed to be
inching back toward the top of my butt. I felt his cock through the robe
pushing into the bottom of my stomach. Mine was pressing up toward his
groin, possibly making contact with his balls, though I wasn't sure.

"Did you and mom dance like this?" I asked.

"Sometimes," he said, his hands sliding further down on my waist for a
second. "She loved to dance. I liked it too, but I always felt I was so
awkward when I tried to do it."

"Do you feel awkward right now, Daddy?"

He smiled and leaned in for a kiss. "No, I don't, actually ... I don't know
why, but this all feels so ... natural, maybe ... It's like we've done this
before ..."

I felt that too, this feeling of "naturalness" between us, and within
everything we were doing together. That isn't to say that it wasn't also
very exciting, or that it lacked anything "naughty" in it. I was the most
excited I'd ever been about anything in my life, and yes, I did have some
admittedly fleeting thoughts about how this was "wrong" somehow. But there
was that "naturalness" too, though, and a deep, driving sexual desire, and
above all there was an overpowering love. I felt waves and waves of joy in
myself, again and again, in this moment with Dad, and I sensed that he felt
the same way, from that "intoxicated" way he looked at me, and from how he
admired my body with his eyes and his touches. I felt like I was on "cloud
9," as they say, and almost floating with the joy and almost going crazy
with all the sexual passion I had toward him.

"I love you so much, Dad," I said, and swallowed hard. I felt like those
words weren't enough to show him how I much I truly did love him
then. "Thank you for being so good to me, and raising me so well."

"I love you too, Sammy," he said, taking a moment to lean in again to kiss
me. When he pulled back again, I saw that his eyes were getting watery, and
finally that a tear was there flowing down his cheek.

"Aww, you are so sweet, Daddy," I said, feeling teary myself all of a
sudden. I held his face with my hand, and he turned to kiss it. We hugged
then, continuing to move to the slow music, our bodies seeming to be
totally embracing each other through the silky garments.

"Are you ready ... to go upstairs?" he asked now, pulling back and smiling
into my face.

I nodded, and smiled back. He let go of our hug, took my hand, and led me
upstairs to his bedroom. He opened the closed door and allowed me to enter
first.

It looked like paradise in there. He had some lamps on near the bed on the
bed stands, casting soft yellow light down onto the bed. The bed was topped
with scattered rose petals, and he had also put a couple mints on each of
the two fluffy pillows. A defuser of some kind was in a corner of the room,
humming very lightly as it spread a mild eucalyptus sense through the air
around the bed.

"Wow again, Daddy," I said, as he came in behind me and wrapped his arms
around my sides and clasped them in front of my stomach. He bent to kiss to
neck.

"You like it, sweetheart?" he asked, though he seemed to know the answer
already. Or should have known!

"Do I?" I asked jokingly, surprising him with a quick turn of my head and a
kiss on his cheek. "It smells so nice in here."

"Eucalyptus." He slid his hands down to my sides. "I switched the sheets by
the way. The others were kind of dirty, you know?"

He went to the side of me, his arm around my waist, and walked me to the
bed. "I love the roses," I said, turning my head to smile at him again.

"I know it's cheesy," he said, with a shy, self-deprecating smile. "But
it's our first night as boyfriends, in our bed."

"Our bed?" I asked, feeling excited.

"Yes, if you want it to be our bed," he said. He slid his hand down from my
waist and held it against my butt, rubbing it affectionately and
playfully. "You can start sleeping in here from now on, with me."

"I'd like that, Daddy," I said, feeling that intense joy again I had felt
before as we danced. "So, what do you want us to do?" I smiled, and brought
my arm around to embrace him across his stomach.

"Well, I have some ideas ..." he started. I felt his fingers sneaking over
to my butt crack, and then darting away quickly as if he were trying to
hide what he was doing. "First, I thought maybe I could ... undress you
..." (as he spoke, he turned so that we were face to face again, him
stooping as he had before so that we were at level, our faces and our
cocks) " ... then, I want to kiss you ... and lick you ... all over your
body, every inch ..."

If I could have gotten harder then, I would certainly would have! I felt
myself beginning to breath more rapidly, out of excitement or out of
nervousness, or both. He leaned in and pressed himself, including his hard
cock on the other side of the silk, into me. He came in for another kiss,
and this time our lips massaged each other, and we took turning sucking and
licking in and around each other's mouths. The sound of wet smacking filled
that aromatic, erotic air surrounding us.

A few minutes later and I was sitting up against the pillows, splayed out
part of the way, in the middle of our bed. I hadn't bothered to move any of
the roses, or the mints. Whether the mints stayed put or not was not my
concern in the moment, and the roses were soft and unobtrusive.

Dad got up onto the bed, and scooted over toward me on his knees, and then
he put one of his legs around to the other side of me, so that he was
straddling my thighs, just below the bottom of my robe.

I watched, mesmerized, as he handled the ends of the silky fabric about my
waist and slowly untied the loose knot I had made earlier. Next, he took
the inside hems of my robe and spread them apart, revealing my nearly naked
form beneath.

"Glad it fits," he said, touching the thin waistband of the green thong I
wore. It actually barely fit, at least right now given how hard I was. The
thong's little front pouch stuck out so far and covered so little that from
above I could see a part of my cock, where the shaft met my groin. On the
back of the underwear, only a thin string of cloth went down into my butt
crack.

I eagerly (though a bit nervously, I'll admit!) anticipated feeling his
lips and tongue on me, all over my body ...