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We sat, eating dinner in silence, only my 9 year old son and I on a table built for four. These lessons in silence were the norm now, and I told myself they were better than the arguments, or the pleading, or the hurt in his eyes. But as I looked up, and looked into the depths of his baby blues, I could see the hurt still there.
My son slowly moved the food around on his plate, hoping the holes he left would convince me he had consumed more than the few feeble bites he had managed thus far. Months this has continued, and each night my will crumbled a little more, till there was only the dust that currently remained.
"I love you," I whispered.
"No you don't," he retorted, not looking up. The fact that it came so quickly and without thought must have broken the last fiber of my strength, sending me hurtling into an abyss of self-doubt and self-hatred. I pushed my food away, and into my arms I began to let the flood of emotion bottled up flow out in a river of tears and cries that were unconstrained.
I could hear my boy call, "Dad... dad...," his concern obviously growing, but I was unable to answer his pleas until his hand touched mine. I grabbed for it as a drowning man grabs for a branch.
Between pained cries I spoke, "I just can't..." and "I can't lose you..." and "You're it... you are all..." and finally, "I'm so lonely..."
Whereas I was lost on a rough sea, my son finally gained understanding, and with it the calm of a shallow pond on a still day. He sat there, holding my hand until my crying stopped from exhaustion. My head still down on the table, I felt my son come behind me and hold me, remaining silent. Despite my emotional exhaustion, I could feel the relief that came over him.
"I'm lonely too and I promise I won't tell," were his first words. Panic again streaked across my entire body, but given then recent draining of my all my strength and the washing away of the last of my will, I could only speak my heart.
"I love you more than you will ever know," I said honestly, touching his lips with my finger as I rose to look at him. I wiped away my tears and continued. "I am scared... terrified... of losing you."
"You won't," he said. "Mom even screamed it as she left because she even knew..."
"Your mom never knew me, and I only was with her because of you..."
"But she knew me, and she knew I loved you more than her," he said matter-of-factly. "But she also knew that I loved you more than a normal son does his dad..."
"I know," I said, taking his hand. "I know she left because she heard you saying that... well what you said to me."
"That I wanted you to fuck me..."
"Yes that," I said, slightly exasperated, but the argument was not with me anymore. "But she knew from the time we met that I really was attracted to boys. If only I hadn't got drunk that one night..."
"... then you would not have had me," my son finished, slightly hurt and angry.
I sighed deeply, picking my next words careful. "I love you my son, but..."
"There is always a but," he said defensively, crossing his arms, ready to continue the old argument.
I held my hands up in a peace gesture, causing my young warrior to back down momentarily. "But..." I continued, taking his hand, "... I want to make sure this is what you want."
"YES!" he yelled angrily.
"I don't want to lose you... I'm sorry... I'm sorry I've held out so long." I pulled him in tight hugging him, and with my will gone, I could feel love replacing the emptiness, and my body's response to the boy I was holding. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
"I love you dad, and I really want to be with you," he whispered. Wise beyond his years, he added, "I know you are scared dad, but I also know you want this too."
"I do," I finally admitted to him, and to myself. "I have since before you were born."
No more words were said. Instead he took my hand and led me to the stairs, and started to take me to his bedroom. Instead, I gestured to my larger room. He smiled and we laid together. For a time we just stared into each other's eyes. I had so many questions. I wondered where he got this idea, or where he learned to do such an adult act, an act that society says children shouldn't know. However, I knew the answer, as I had the same answer at his age, though I had no one to express it with. I knew that he was born with the instinct for love, just like every other human. But I knew that his instincts, like mine, tended in a different direction than most, a direction many call immoral. But laying here, staring into my sons eyes, I realized those people were wrong, as how could love be evil?
However, soon, I quit staring into the eyes of my son and instead was staring into the eyes of my lover. I smiled, and took the first tentative steps to kiss my boy. I had kissed him before, but like a father to a son. This was new, and when my lips touched his, it was electrifying. What fears I had left melted away, and I grabbed my son, my lover, and drew him into me tightly, forcing my tongue though his inexperienced lips. On my chest I could feel his cock, already hard, pressing obscenely against me, causing my own body to respond in kind.
As I broke the kiss, my boy opened his eyes, gasping in delight. I could tell he wanted to speak, but I again pressed my finger to his lips and held one to mine. He smiled and nodded, understanding. I lifted his body up and removed his shirt, throwing it carelessly on the floor. As he lay back down, I removed my own shirt, flinging it to a nearby chair. For the first time in years, I felt his skin next to mine, and was overwhelmed by the sensation. I rolled over to hover over my child, garnering a huge grin, a smile I had not seen in months. Silently I cursed myself for my stubbornness, and my lack of trust in my own son, but in the same thought I promised to make it up to him.
I began by nibbling on his ear, earning me the coos and giggles of an unexpected corporeal delight. My ministrations continued as I worked down to his neck, nibbling at the silky flesh as my boy's head tilted to give me full access. Unsated, and with a fervor that had not existed in years, I continued further, sucking on one his tiny, but sensitive nipples, then the other. My boy cried out in pleasure, putting fist in his mouth as the new sensation overwhelmed him. Seeing the pleasure it gave him, I continued, switching side to side, sucking and chewing harder until he pushed me down further, silently begging for release.
I then continue down to my boy's navel, which can only be described as cute, or in this case, sexy. The small hole begged for my tongue, and I obliged willingly, before backing off and giving a soft blow on the area, causing my son's hips to buck, trying to push into something that was not yet there, but would soon be.
As my fingers thumbed the waist of my son's shorts, I looked up at him, once more silently asking for permission. He understood and nodded yes eagerly. Afraid my will would falter, I quickly unsnapped the fastener, drew down the zipper and in one swift motion removed both his shorts and small pair of underwear, which unbeknownst to him, I had secretly smelled deeply many times before adding them to the wash.
Before me, at full mast and in all of its glory was both my greatest fear and my most desperate prize. My son's silky white, nail hard cock pointed lewdly towards his face. Stealing my eyes away from the 3" cocklet, I look at my boy's eyes, and he smiles at me, nodding again, almost begging.
There would be times for subtlety, for teasing and for play, as the artificial boundary that I had unknowingly erected between us had now been demolished and would never be restored. However, this was the time for action, for making up for lost moments, and for giving my boy what he needed most. In one motion, I took my boy's hard cock into my mouth to the base, and sucked tightly. A cry of pleasure rang out in the room as I bobbed quickly up and down on his hard dick. The taste was brand new, and stunning, yet I had known this taste all my life somewhere in the back of my mind. The taste of my son's cock was like a vitamin that my body had been missing its whole life, but now absorbed it as quickly as possible, desperate for more.
Soon, his animal instinct took over and he began thrusting wildly into my more than willing mouth. With one great drive, he pushed his hips as hard into my face as they would go, and while shaking cried out as he was struck with what I was to find out later was the first orgasm of his life. With a few more thrusts, his body threw his remaining energy into his ecstasy, and then my son passed out.
Releasing his cock, and worried for my lover, I rose to his face. I heard him breathing, and relaxed, instead kissing him softly as his body recovered. Soon he rose from his trance and smiled, and mouthed the words "thank you." I kissed him, lightly, now acutely aware of my own body. I rolled to his side and began to masturbate in my own pants, still holding on to the last refuge of society's norms that I could. My son, having none of it, rolled over and pushed my hand away, and began to unfasten my belt.
When he got the belt undone, he looked at me, with the same pleading look he had given me for the last few months. I sighed, relaxed, smiled and nodded, giving him permission to do as he liked. With that last act of surrender, I laid back, content with my choices, and excited for what was to come next. I admitted to myself that I had been waiting for this for a long time, and still couldn't believe the moment was here. As my boy got the zipper down and my hard cock came into view for the first time, he was aghast at the size relative to his own, but subconsciously licked his lips. Then I knew, as he first reached out and touched my hard dick, that my boy not only wanted this, but in fact needed this to be whole.
His petite hands grasped my dick firmly, but with the gentleness and care of a prized and fragile possession. And it was true, at this moment, that I was his to do with as he liked. However, to confirm he looked at me, silently asking my permission once more. I lifted my hips off the bed in response, and he countered by making me as nude as he was. Once my clothes were off he positioned his small form between my legs, and just stared at my dick, memorizing every detail, and pulling every fold of skin. I let him play, trying to hold back the building orgasm, but unable to keep myself leaking pre-cum.
The clear fluid struck his curiosity, and he took a small amount of the pre-seminal fluid from the tip of my dick and played with it between his thumb and forefinger, stringing it out before the clear thread would break. Then, without warning, he stuck his tongue out and tasted the clear liquid, causing me to moan, knowing that part of my dick fluid was inside my boy. Finding both the taste pleasant, and enjoying my reaction, he grinned wickedly at me for a moment, before licking the trickle of fluid straight from the source. As his tongue touched the flaring head of my phallus, I was just barely able to hold back my orgasm, but my son was rewarded with an even stronger stream of pre-cum.
Soon he wasn't satisfied with licking just my penis, but his tongue found its way to my balls, and he played with one ball at a time, rolling it with his small tongue, and trying to take the orb into his mouth. As he played with his new toy, my hand slowly stroked his soft hair, trying to refrain from grabbing his head and pushing it hard into my crotch.
My son's lust continued to build, and he was soon at the head of my dick, licking the now steady flow of pre-ejaculate. My son then got brave and put his entire mouth on the head of my dick for the first time. Feeling his warm tight mouth on my dick for the first time almost caused me to cum right then, only being held back by the pain his teeth caused. I yipped lightly, and my son drew off, realizing his mistake. He looked at me worried and I smiled at him, brushing his face. He smiled and went back down onto my dick, keeping his eyes on mine and his teeth off my dick. I moaned in pleasure, and gently bucked my hips trying to get deeper into his mouth.
As it was, the sight was already obscene. Just the head of my dick was filling his small mouth, yet he tried to get more in. One day soon, I would teach him to get more down his throat, but for now, this was good enough. With my hand on his head, I gently bucked my hips so that my dick moved in and out of his mouth. I was extremely close, and knew that it would not last long.
As his hand grasped my tight balls, I couldn't hold on any longer. Unable to control myself, I pushed him down further, and pushed my dick slightly into his throat causing him to cough and gag as I shot load after load of cum. Unprepared for what was happening and panicked, he tried to pull off as cum started leaking out of his nose and mouth, dripping down his chin, but I held him down tight, keeping my dick planted firmly in his mouth until the seventh or eighth volley of cum left my body.
I then let up and he quickly sat up, tears of pain in his eyes and my cum dripping down his chin. I quickly saw what I interpreted as hurt and reached to hug him and start to apologize. However, after recovering his breath, a smile of pure joy spread across his cummy face. He obviously was scared at the time, but now realized what happened and was both overjoyed and proud. I still pulled him up to me and kissed him hard, tasting my semen on my son's tongue and he tasting the light flavor of his own dick. I licked his face, and fed him my cum through kisses as I reached down and masturbated my son's hard dick. Within only a few moments, he came again, and I continued to kiss him hard, and held on to him tight through his second orgasm.
Ignoring the mess, we both slept for a time, waking up together. As the conscious world took hold, and our vision was restored, we looked into each other's eyes and smiled. We then talked for hours, laying with each other completely naked, playing with each other's bodies from time to time. We were making up for lost time and re-learning who the real people were that lay here. We realized we were in love; not as a father loves his son, nor the love of new lovers, but something deeper that comes with the combination of both.
As we concluded our conversation and went to sleep for the night, I knew that this would not be the last time, but the first of many. We both also knew that we would not be lonely again, at least not like before, as we had finally found each other. I also knew that I would no longer feel guilty for being who I was, because my son needed the person that I am, not the one I pretended to be, and I needed my whole son, not just parts of him.
"I love you," I whispered in his ear as we drifted off.
"I know, dad. I love you too." No thought, just truth...
---- End ----
I hope you enjoyed the story!
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