Date: Mon, 12 Apr 2010 23:38:14 +1030
From: Marcus McNally <marcusis32@live.com.au>
Subject: Dad Gives Me A Helping Hand - 3

This story contains sexual situations between a father and his teenage
son. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this
story.  If you are under 18 years of age you are probably not legally
allowed to read this story.  This story is purely a work of fiction and any
resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred,
is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and
no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web
sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.

If you haven't already done so, you should probably read the first two
chapters before embarking on this installment.

*************

For the second night in a row, I had done the unthinkable and taken care of
the sexual needs of my temporarily incapacitated 17-year-old son.  It was a
while before I realized that the throbbing hard-on that appeared each
evening when I gave him a sponge bath was his involuntary way of reminding
me that his heavily bandaged hands and wrists prevented him from doing what
every hormonally charged teenage boy has being doing since the beginning of
time.

His initial embarrassment at displaying himself so flagrantly in front of
his father gave way to an urgent need to relieve his sexual tension.  My
initial embarrassment at seeing him so highly aroused during my 'duty of
care' was replaced by the realization that the solution to Matt's
predicament was, quite literally, in my hands.

Tonight, after washing him thoroughly with a wet cloth, I again took his
raging manhood in my oiled hand and slowly stroked it, before introducing
him to the two-handed "juice squeeze" technique; one hand twisting one way,
the other twisting the other.

Matt's response was an overload of sexual bliss, and his euphoric
whimpering told us both that this was no basic handjob.  His sweat-soaked
body went rigid and a long, guttural groan was followed by literally a
fountain of cum, ejaculated from his cock high into the air.

I gave Matt time to enjoy his orgasmic afterglow before mopping semen from
his chest, neck and forehead, and everywhere else it managed to land.  As
my son's limp body sank into the mattress, his right hand dropped into my
lap.  As I packed up the wash bowl and cloth and prepared to remove them,
his hand slipped under my dressing gown and came to rest next to my own
rampant cock.

Time stood still until I lifted my head and my gaze met Matt's.

*************

"You're turned on too, Dad," he said, a slight grin on his handsome face.
Words failed me, so I simply nodded.

"I wish I could help you out, like you've helped me," he said.

"That's not necessary, mate," I replied, as my cock involuntarily flexed
against the side of his hand.  "And besides, with those bandages it's not
possible, either!"

A look of frustration swept his face.  "You're the best, Dad," he said, as
he removed his hand from under my bathrobe.  "I wish I could just thank you
for everything you do for me, and all the sacrifices you make for me."

I put my hand on his forehead and swept back his curly fringe.  "It's never
a sacrifice and it doesn't come with any expectation of gratitude, Matt.
You're my son and I love you.  Your happiness is reward enough."

I smiled and added, "I think you now know I'd do anything for you!!"  He
smirked as I leaned over a kissed his forehead.  "Goodnight mate."

" 'Night, Dad," he replied as I walked out of his room.  "Love you".

I stumbled to my bedroom, my painfully stiff cock pointing the way.  I
quickly set down the basin and cloth, leaned against the bathroom vanity
and grabbed my dick.  I needed only a few quick strokes before my balls
surrendered and my cock discharged a series of cum ribbons across the
bathroom, the first two splattering against my shower screen.

The force of my orgasm almost caused my legs to give way under me and I
took a moment or two to compose myself before picking up the wash cloth and
cleaning up the spunk.  I crawled into bed and let sleep overtake me.

*************

I slept soundly through the night, so soundly that I didn't hear Matt's
nurse until she was clattering around in the kitchen, fixing breakfast for
a 17-year-old boy with a voracious appetite.

I climbed out of bed and hit the bathroom, to shave and shower and prepare
for hopefully a pleasant Sunday ahead.  I threw on some jeans and a
tee-shirt and followed the aroma of freshly brewed coffee to the kitchen.
Matt's nurse was cleaning up his breakfast plates and greeted me in her
usual grumpy manner.  "That boy eats like a horse," she muttered.

I thought to myself, yes, and he's hung like one too, but I said "all
teenage boys are hungry all the time."

I poured a coffee and headed upstairs to see the kid, who'd already been
helped to the toilet and dressed by the nurse.

"Morning mate," I said.  "Big day tomorrow!  We've got Dr. Manning in the
morning and we'll find out whether those bandages can come off."

"Woo hoo," was the response, as Matt repositioned himself against his pile
of pillows.  "Can't wait to stand under a shower."

"Oh," I replied with an exaggerated look of dejection on my face.  "There's
something better than you father's sponge baths?".

Matt laughed.  "You know what I mean, old man!".  And I did.  Matt was
looking forward to his getting back his independence.

Once again, Matt's mates dropped by in the afternoon, which broke up the
monotony of a day doing nothing much of anything.  The guys timed it, as
they usually did, so that food was a distinct possibility so once again I
made trays of sandwiches, pastries and drinks and the visitors took turns
feeding Matt and then themselves, while I attended to a neglected garden.

Over several hours I was able to get the front and back gardens in
reasonable shape, although another day would be required to get it the way
I wanted it.  I was just finishing up when Jack and Byron walked out the
door and called out that they were leaving.  I waved as I walked back into
the house to wash up and smiled to myself at the way those teenage boys
were thoughtful enough to bring down all the used plates and glasses from
Matt's room, yet it didn't occur to them that it would take 10 seconds more
to stack them in the dishwasher!

Once the kitchen was back to normal I climbed the stairs and checked on
Matt, who was engrossed in a cookbook, his endless fascination; being a
chef was his greatest ambition, having loved cooking food since he was a
young boy.

He looked up when I walked in and smiled.  "There's a great recipe in here
for mousaka and I'm gonna try it as soon as I can use my hands again," he
said.

"Sounds great, mate," I replied.  "I'm sure it's not the first thing you'll
be doing when you can use your hands again! But you're gonna have to put up
with my cooking a little bit longer.  Fancy anything special for dinner?".

I rattled off some choices but Matt didn't appear to be taken by any of
them - probably because I'd be cooking them and my culinary skills are no
match for his - so he tactfully suggested we get take away.  "How about
pizza Dad?" he asked.  "We haven't had pizza for a while".

I told him I'd order pizza and a Greek salad, and he reminded me to return
the DVD we'd watched the previous evening and pick up a copy of the movie
he wanted us to watch tonight.

"What's it called again," I asked.

"9 Songs," he replied.  "It stars that British dude who was in Holby Blue",
a reference to a cop drama we'd watched on cable earlier in the year.

Matt had suggested we watch '9 Songs' after I'd expressed shock at the
graphic nature of Intimacy, which was a mainstream film based on a novel by
Hanif Kureshi.  '9 Songs', he assured me, would 'spin me out'.

I placed the food order and helped Matt out of bed so he could get
comfortable downstairs.  First, he needed to empty his bladder, so once
again I stood behind him at the toilet bowl and lowered his tracksuit
pants.  As I reached around to help him aim, I realized he was half hard;
shit, this is one horny kid.  I held his cock as he pissed into the bowl,
and as I shook it he started to harden in my hand.

He grinned at me as I cleaned him up and I helped him downstairs to the
lounge, where he got himself comfortable on a couch with a pile of pillows
behind him.  As I grabbed my car keys I flicked on the television for
him. "Won't be long, mate," I said as I closed the front door.

I picked up the DVD first and as I handed the case over with my membership
card, the kid serving smiled and said "it's hard to believe you don't have
to hire this film from an adult bookstore!  "

"So my son tells me," I replied.  "He reckons it's gonna 'spin me out'!".

I picked up the food and drove home to find Matt trying, unsuccessfully, to
change channels.  I took the remote from him and flicked the TV to the news
channel so he could watch the summary of the day's sports events, and
dished up pizza and salad for us both.  I called out to ask Matt what he'd
like to drink and he called back, "can I have a beer?".

I knocked the tops off two Crown Lagers and headed to the lounge with the
evening meal.  When I first started feeding Matt food he ended up wearing
most of it, but I'd got it down to a fine art now.  Pizza was easy - hold
and chomp, and salad was easy for him to eat from a tablespoon.  He'd
chomped thorough more than half the pizza by the time I got to eat and he'd
clearly enjoyed it.  By the time I'd helped him drink half his beer he was
keen to watch the movie.

I fired up the DVD player and we started to watch '9 Songs'.  Matt
explained that the basic premise was a young British guy who hooks up with
an American exchange student who shares his passion for rock concerts.
There are several performances by bands whose names I knew from Matt's own
CD collection, among them the Von Bondies, the Dandy Warhols and Franz
Ferdinand.

Between each performance the film spotlights their lives in and around
London, which basically consists of fucking at every opportunity.  Like
Intimacy, the film we'd watched the previous night, the sex scenes were
graphic and hot.  Pussy eating, cock sucking and full on fucking, none of
it simulated.  That was definitely the actor's hard cock thrusting in and
out of the lead actress's pussy.

Again I was shocked that this was a mainstream film and Matt was enjoying
watching my reaction as much as he was enjoying the film.  My reaction
wasn't confined to my face, either.  My cock was throbbing in my jeans as I
watched the couple writing around in sexual bliss.  I could see Matt was
just as aroused, his own cock obscenely tenting his sweat pants.

"I can't believe the censors allowed this to be shown in cinemas," I said,
and Matt, after calling me a 'prude', explained that it initially got an
'X' rating in Australia, so it was considered 'porn', but that the review
board overturned that amended the rating to 'R', enabling it to be shown in
cinemas.

"If you think it's hot so far, just wait," said Matt with a grin.  "The
best is yet to come!".

It wasn't long before I realized what he meant. One of the final sex scenes
featured the girl giving the guy an amazing head job, with close-up shots
of her mouth bobbing up and down on the guy's large cock.  The shock came
when she stopped sucking him and slowly jacked him off.  In what surely has
to be a first for mainstream cinema, the camera captured him ejaculating on
his belly, the girl's hand working his shaft rhythmically as ribbons of cum
spewed from his cock.

I stared at the screen in disbelief, my reverie broken only by Matt's
laugh.  "You oughta see your face Dad!" he cackled, his genuine mirth
making me laugh too.

"Never seen anything like that outside of porn," I said.  "Amazing".

Movement in Matt's lap made me drop my eye line from his face, and I
chuckled at the way his throbbing cock was making a dance in his
pants. "Looks like someone enjoyed the film waaay too much," I said.

Matt grinned at me and said "Someone is injured, and all he needs is
someone else to help make the swelling go down!".

A fortnight ago a conversation like this with my teenage son would have
bewildered me, but given the shift in my father/son relationship with Matt,
I was actually turned on by it.  We'd always been close, but this latest
development had created a bond between us that stepped over the usual
parent and child boundary.  I played along with him.

"If you have a number, I'll phone this 'Someone Else' for you and have them
come over immediately," I said with a smirk.

"Thanks Dad, you're the best" he replied, and he grinned as he rattled off
my cell phone number.  Not to be trumped, I picked up my phone and dialed
myself.  "Engaged," I said.  "Looks like you're all out of luck tonight."

His face registered mock shock and he said, "I never thought you were the
kind of father who'd leave his invalid son in agony".

I sat down next to him on the couch, slid my hand down the front of his
tracksuit pants and said "I'm not", as my fist circled his engorged
one-eyed monster, which flexed in my hand.

He let out a small sigh, and grinned again as he raised his hips slightly
off the couch and raised his arms above his head, wordlessly letting me
know he wanted to loose his clothes.  I let go of his cock and slid his
track pants off, and smiled as his loose ball sac flopped over the edge of
the couch cushion.  I took the bottom of his tee shirt and whipped it off
and there before me was my fit, tanned teenage son in his naked glory.  I
momentarily pondered what did I do deserve such a gorgeous kid.

With no lube handy, I spat into my hand before wrapping it around his
pulsating dick, and my first stroke squeezed a dribble of clear pre cum
from his cock slit which I used to further lube his shaft.  Matt
simultaneously moaned, closed his eyes and lay his head back over the back
of the couch.  My hand got into a steady jacking rhythm and each time my
first passed over his cock head, a flicked my thumb up and down quickly
over his rim.  As my fist continued to pump, Matt's quiet, ecstatic murmurs
gave way to more urgent moans and before long he was once again thrusting
his cock into my fist.  His groans aside, his hastily tightening ball bag
let me know he was close and as I loosened my grip but picked up my speed,
he let out a primitive sigh of relief moments before the first spurt of
semen shot from his cock and hit his neck with the wet force of a bullet.
I moved my other hand to the tip of his cockhead and pinched his slit
between his thumb and forefinger.  Matt's orgasmic contractions continued
but with nowhere to shoot, his hot juice was backing up.  He whispered "oh
fuck" as he tensed and shuddered, then arched his back as I let go of his
cock slit and watched in awe as a stream of semen spurted like an out of
control water fountain, the cum splattering all over his chest.

Between pants, Matt gasped "oh fuck" over and over as his body slumped and
pools of warm white spunk started sliding down his body.  I reached for a
serviette and began mopping the mess as Matt's boner began to soften.

My head was reeling, my hand was covered in my son's seed, and the buttons
on my Levis were threatening to pop under the strain of my own raging
boner.  As Matt opened his eyes and raised his head, he looked me in the
eye and said "that was un-fucking-believable, where did you learn that?".

I grinned and said "you have much to learn, Grasshopper".

As I stood Matt's eyes fell to the front of my jeans and the damp spot that
had formed where the head of my cock was bulging my jeans left him in no
doubt that Dad has enjoyed it just as much.

"Seriously dude," he said.  "You gotta do something about that.  I can't
help you out but it'd be cool if you helped yourself out and let me watch."

I had no doubts this time.  As I stood in front of Matt I unbuttoned my
fly, hauled my jeans and boxers down with one swift tug and flopped down
next to my son on the couch.  I took my rigid cock in my hand and, like
Matt had done earlier, closed my eyes and lay my head back over the back of
the couch.  I could already feel the juice churning in my balls as I
stroked my dick up and down, and as I got closer to blowing my load, I felt
Matt's head resting on my shoulder.  I kept my eyes closed as the tidal
wave overtook me and I swear my heart stopped beating as my climax hit, the
first jizz-jet erupting from my dick and hitting me in the forehead.  I
felt Matt's breath on my neck as he let out a low whistle, drowned out by
my own ecstatic groan as five or six more warm spurts coated my chest and
belly.  We stayed together as I came down from my orgasm, and when I opened
my eyes I saw that at least one of those spurts had hit Matt on his right
cheek.  It had slipped down his face and over his lips and I was stunned to
see his tongue flick out and clean it.  My teenage son had tasted my cum!

After cleaning myself up, I pulled my boxers and jeans back up and took the
soggy serviettes and tissues out to the kitchen, and by the time I returned
to the lounge, Matt was nodding off.  I stood and enjoyed his satisfied
slumber for a few moments before shaking him and telling him it was time to
hit the sack.  Still naked, he stood up and rested against me as I helped
him up the stairs and into bed.  As I leaned in to kiss him on the cheek,
he turned his head and kissed me on the lips.  "'Night, Dad. I love you."

"I love you too mate," I said, as I flicked off his light.

*************

We both slept soundly that night and I was the first to wake, ahead of the
alarm, noting with some satisfaction that I could lie in for a while.  My
mind returned to the previous evening and the hot scene that played out
after we'd watched the 9 Weeks DVD and, not surprisingly, I felt a
throbbing under the doona cover.  I reached over and grabbed the bottle of
massage oil from my bedside table.  My hand slid down over stomach, past my
pubic hair and wrapped around my cock.

My hand built up a steady tempo, my closed eyes focused on the picture in
my mind of my handsome teenage son resting his head on my shoulder as I
exploded and splashed his cheek, his tongue darting out to lick my semen.
I felt the pressure building and kept myself on the precipice of a
spectacular explosion for what felt like an eternity before the telltale
signs of impending orgasm swept me over the edge and my cock spurted huge
ribbons of cum across my chest and stomach.  I lay there for a long time
regaining my composure as small rivulets of sperm ran down my sides and
soaked into the sheets. I shook my head to clear the images of my naked and
sexually charged son from my mind and reached for the Kleenex.

After hitting the shower and getting dressed, I woke Matt and got him
dressed, fed and out of the house, arriving at Dr. Manning's surgery by
9.15, a good few minutes ahead of his appointment.  Matt and I flicked
through fitness magazines until his name was called and he disappeared
before the doctor's office door.

I continued flicking pages until eventually the surgery door opened and I
looked up to see my teenage son beaming from ear to ear, triumphantly
holding up his bandage-free wrists and hands.  Behind him was Dr. Manning,
who walked over and shook my hand.  "All's fine with Matthew," he said.
"His wrists have healed well enough for the bandages to come off.  I'd like
to check him again in a fortnight and organize a final set of x-rays, but
all being well he'll be back to using his hands the way he always has."

At that comment, my eyes caught Matt's and we both smiled.  Yes, he'd most
certainly be using his hands the way he always has!  I only hoped he'd at
least wait until we got home before he had his first unaccompanied wank for
many weeks.

I settled the doctor's account and Matt and I headed for the car.  On the
way home, I stopped at the local shopping centre and surprised Matt by
taking him to his favourite caf‚ where we both ordered steak and salad
and neither of us could stop smiling as Matt reacquainted himself with
using a knife and fork and feeding himself.  It was a warm day and to
complete his celebration, I ordered us two cold beers and was touched when
he raised his glass and said "here's a toast - to my good health - and to a
fantastic dad for all his help!".

As we finished our meals Matt told me the first thing he was going to do
when we got home was take a nice hot shower by himself.  I reminded him
that Dr. Manning has warned him not to overdo things and Matt invited me to
sit in the bathroom and supervise, just to make sure he was up to the task.

Once home, Matt bounded up the stairs three at a time, and by the time I'd
reached his room he'd torn off his clothes and was heading to the bathroom,
a towel draped over his shoulder.  I joined him in the bathroom and sat on
the edge of the bath as he opened the shower screen door, reached in and
turned the taps on.

"Man am I gonna enjoy this," he grinned, as he disappeared into the steam.
I smiled to myself as he started to sing as he washed himself for the first
time in weeks, belting out "Hey Soul Sister", one of the songs I'd heard
endlessly when he was listening to his Train CDs.

"Sorry Dad," he called out, "I know you don't like my music", and suddenly
switched to Willie Nelson's "Always On My Mind", a nod to what he often
referred to as my "appalling taste in music".  Laughing, I grabbed a wet
wash cloth from the basin, opened the shower door and threw it at him.  He
yelped as it hit him and as I closed the door I could help but notice that
his cock was as hard as it ever got, pointed proudly up against his belly.

"Ah, I remember this wash cloth very well," he called out and a few moments
later I could see through the steamy glass the unmistakable action of my
son enjoying a date with Mrs.  Palmer and her 5 slutty daughters.  The
sound of cascading water couldn't drown out his long and loud groan as he
ejaculated, the white stream of his release splattering obscenely against
the shower screen.

"You OK, kiddo?" I called out.  "Yeah, thanks Dad," Matt replied. "Just
cleaning the walls after an accident involving the Milk Man and Cyclops!".
God this kid's a crack up!

Shutting the taps off, Matt stepped from the shower and stood before me
like a drowned rat, still smiling from ear to ear.  "God that felt good!"
he said.

"You mean the shower or the wank?" I chuckled.

"Both!!  I'd forgotten how good a shower feels.  But your sponge baths are
pretty awesome too Dad!".

I watched as he dried himself and followed him to his bedroom and smiled at
the obvious enjoyment he was getting from a pleasure as simple as dressing
himself.

*************

Over the coming weeks life pretty much returned to normal.  I was back at
work fulltime and Matt was back at school, playing sport, hanging out with
his mates, and relishing every opportunity he could find to spend time in
the kitchen perfecting his culinary skills.

I noticed he seemed more confident and certainly more relaxed and casual
around the house.  He'd never been a shy kid but since his recovery, he
spent more and more time walking around the house naked when I was home.
More often than not he left his bedroom door open at night and I became
accustomed to hearing him pleasuring himself before he went to sleep, the
distinctive slapping sound of a firm hand pumping a rigid dick, and the
instantly recognizable sound of his gratification as he released his
testicle squatters.

As the school year drew to a close, I realized that something seemed to be
on his mind, but it wasn't until he returned home with his report card that
it dawned on me that academically, this year had been a struggle.

Matt made another awesome dinner and was quite chatty as we ate, but after
handing me his report he fell silent as my mind registered the amount of
C's and D's he'd received.

Matt broke the silence with a quiet "sorry Dad" and when I looked at him,
he averted his eyes.

"It's OK Matt," I said as reassuringly as I could.  "The accident took a
big chunk out of your school year so these grades are only to be expected."

"The accident's kind of irrelevant Dad," he replied.  "Even if I'd been at
school I reckon I'd have got those marks.  I just can't do it.  It's too
hard and I'm not interested in those subjects.  I want to be a chef and I
don't need algebra and chemistry to make a souffl‚."

I pondered for a moment and said, "Mate, you know I'll happily get you a
tutor over the school break and by the time you start Year 12, you'll be
back on track."

There was a long pause before Matt finally spoke.  "Dad," he said, before
drawing a deep breath.  "I don't want to go back to school. I want to get
an apprenticeship as a chef and forget about Year 12.  I know I'll make a
great chef and you know it's always been my dream.  Please Dad?"

This time, it was my long pause.  "Mate, I understand what you're saying,
but you know I always wanted you to finish your schooling.  I don't expect
you to be Dux of the school or anything, but I've always believed that
graduation can be a great springboard for any career."

"Dad," he replied, "a piece of paper from the Education Department means
shit in the food industry.  Top restaurants don't care whether I know what
a split infinitive is, they care that I know how to time a CrŠme
Brulee."

We ended up talking quite late into the night and eventually, Matt had
convinced me to at least give some serious thought to his request.  In our
subsequent discussions I realized for the first time how incredibly
passionate my son was about being a chef and how committed he was to
realizing his dream.

After a lot of soul searching I finally told him on Christmas Eve that he
didn't have to return to school for his final year and that early in
January he could start applying for apprenticeships.  It was without
question the best Christmas present I could ever have given him, and with
tears in his eyes he hugged me tight and told me how much he truly loved
me.

And before the next year was over, I would come to realize that his love
for me far transcended the typical feelings a young man has for his father
...

* * * * * *

Please feel free to email me your comments.  marcusis32@live.com.au