Date: Wed, 17 Apr 2002 07:50:44 -0500
From: Tim Foure <timfoure@hotmail.com>
Subject: MD Sequel J&A chapter 2

Jason and Andrew ( Me and Dad the Sequel, Part 3) - Chapter 2 - Mike

by Tim Foure
copyright  2002 by  Tim Foure

If you are under 18 or not permitted access to homosexual erotica where you
live, then you should not read this story. The other usual disclaimers too.
___________

This story is a continuation of "Me and Dad the Sequel". Different
characters are narrating different parts of the story, so you need to take
note of who's talking as you read each chapter.

Chapter 2 - Mike

It had taken a concerted effort, but I was able to follow through on my
intention to stay close to my brother Jason in spite of the sixteen years'
age difference between us.  I'd written to him and talked to him on the
phone both while I was in college and while I was getting my MBA, and I'd
spent time with him when I was home on vacation. But after Sands and I were
married and I began working, it became more difficult. For one thing, even
though Barry, Sands, and I had moved 'back home' and gotten a condo there,
Barry and I were traveling a lot of the time. When we were gone for long
periods, Sands preferred to spend time in London where she had friends
rather than to spend it alone with the baby in the condo.

But Sands helped me with Jason, inviting him to go with us when we'd gone
on vacations and even taking him along to London several times when I was
going to meet her there. He and I also continued to write to each other and
talk on the phone. And I'd been able to do things with him when I was home,
like go to the movies or just have him stay overnight with me when I was in
the condo alone. In fact, it occurred to me somewhere along the way that I
was including him in my life and myself in his in much the same way as my
dad had done with me after he and my mom were divorced.

All the while, of course, he was growing up, and I should have been more
aware of it than even Charlie and Mom since weeks and sometimes months
passed between the times I saw him. But somehow I didn't connect his
physical growth with the other kinds of changes he was going through.

Jason had always been very open with me, talking about whatever was on his
mind. In fact, I'd been the one to give him a basic version of the facts of
life when he had begun asking questions the summer I'd worked at the bank
in the islands. And usually something having to do with sex organs came up
periodically among the hundreds of things he talked to me about on the
phone or when we were together. I probably should have noticed that dicks
started to appear more and more often in that rotation of topics, but
somehow I didn't, so I was surprised when it suddenly moved to the top of
his list.

It had happened on a weekend when he was staying alone with me. I'd had to
come to town for several days of work while Barry and Sands were both away,
so I called Mom about taking Jace off their hands from Friday until Sunday
afternoon when I would have to fly out. They had plans of their own for
Saturday night and had been having trouble with Jace about a baby
sitter. Jace had decided that being eleven meant he could stay by himself,
but Mom and Charlie didn't agree.  I solved their problem without their
having to deal with the issue of his staying alone since he always jumped
at any chance to stay with me.

Mom had invited me to have dinner with them when I came to pick Jace up, so
it was actually after Jace's normal bedtime though not really late when we
got to the condo.  As soon as we were inside the door, he had taken his
little overnight bag and run to the bedroom he always used when he stayed
at the condo. I'd gone into our room to get undressed. I was hanging up my
suit when Jace burst into the room at a dead run and jumped into the middle
of the bed. He was naked, which didn't surprise me. He never wore clothes
when he stayed with me.

"Ready for your shower, Jace? Or are you too sleepy?" One look at him told
me he was very wound up and not at all ready for sleep, but I thought I'd
ask anyhow in hopes that we could get to sleep soon. I was tired from a
long day and from the very hot sex I'd had with Dad and Bob the night
before.

"I'm not sleepy at all," he told me.

"I didn't think you were," I said as I slid off my boxers and dropped them
along with my socks into the laundry basket. "Let's get cleaned up then."

He leaped off the bed and raced into the bathroom. He already had the
shower running by the time I reached the bathroom door. He was standing
with one hand under the spray testing the temperature. "It's ready," he
told me as he stepped into the stall.

I'd bathed Jason from the time he was born and done other things to take
care of him like changing his diapers as much to give my mom a break as
because I'd loved him from the first time I'd laid eyes on him. I really
enjoyed taking care of him. Once Jace was out of diapers, Mom had passed on
the job of bathing him to Charlie just as she had given me to my dad for
the same thing. In fact, I could see a lot of the familiar patterns of my
own childhood repeated as I watched Mom and Charlie raise Jace. When I came
home from college for vacations, I took over the job of bathing him from
Charlie, usually at Jace's insistence. At some point along the way Jace had
gotten old enough that he didn't need to be bathed any longer, but I knew
he still showered with Charlie though I didn't know how often, and he
always took it for granted he'd shower with me when I was there. It
occurred to me as he got older that I probably ought to discourage him from
doing that, but I also remembered when Grandfather forced an end to my
bathing with my dad and how much I'd hated him doing that, so I did
nothing.

Then one day while I was soaping him up as we stood in the shower, Jace
suddenly asked, "How come you always wash me and I never wash you?"

I decided to go for a joke. "That's because I've been saving mine up. You
really owe me a bunch of showers," I told him.

"Then I'm gonna wash you next," he told me emphatically.

And he did. I had to sit cross-legged on the bottom of the tub for him to
reach my hair, but in the end he did a fairly thorough job even if it did
take three times as long as it would have for me to do it myself. When I
went to bathe him after that, he always reminded me that he 'owed' me a lot
of showers. That continued for quite some time until one day I pointed out
to him that he would never be able to pay off his 'shower debt' because we
washed each other every time and his debt never decreased. I thought he
ought to be taught the basic lesson of economics that people who maintain
credit card debt while continuing to use the card and to make minimum
payments never seemed to learn. I also thought he might be getting big
enough to want a way out of showering with his big brother. He told me he
had already figured it out for himself that he would never get to pay me
off and he was glad I knew that too. But he continued to insist that we
shower together whenever we could.

So I followed Jace into the stall one more time and closed the glass door.
"Who goes first?" I asked.

"I wash you first, ok?"

He was tall enough to reach the top of my head with me standing up so I no
longer had to squat down for him, but it did help if I leaned over. He
shampooed my hair, helped me rinse out the lather, and soaped up the rest
of my body. He had never been bashful about touching me anyhow, but bathing
me had given him a reason to leave no part of me untouched. He did his
usual thorough job and then maneuvered me under the spray to rinse off. I
returned the favor, noticing that he'd gotten hard. That happened to him
irregularly and seemed to have nothing to do with my carefully withdrawing
his foreskin and washing the head of his dick. It also never seemed to
embarrass him. I suppose there was no reason why it should since it had
been happening to him his whole life.

Once we had dried ourselves and each other, we settled into bed to talk. I
would have been content to drift off to sleep, but Jace was wound up and
seemed to have a long list of things he wanted to talk about. It hadn't
been all that long since I'd seen him, so much of what he wanted to tell me
brought me up to date with what was happening in his life. He asked some
questions about mine too, most of which had to do with people he knew that
I might have seen since the last time I talked to him.

After a while I was still managing to hold my own, but he was clearly
winding down, so I held up my arm and suggested he cuddle against me. He
liked to go to sleep with his head on my shoulder, his chest and belly
pressed against my side, his arm across my chest, and his leg lying across
mine. Since his body was as warm as a little furnace, I never needed even a
sheet over me when he slept with me. I usually rubbed his back lightly as
our talk tapered off and we finally went to sleep. That seemed to be what
we were doing this night too, though I was vaguely aware of his small hard
dick pressing against my thigh right where it joined my hip. I'd felt it
there many times before so I gave it no thought. I also noticed he was
rubbing his hand up and down my belly, which was something he rarely
did. As he spoke less and less often, I let myself move into the twilight
zone of maximum comfort that sometimes comes just before sleep.

I don't know how long I had been in that state or perhaps even fully asleep
when I began to notice something. It was a feeling I had trouble
identifying at first, and when I did figure out what it was, I couldn't
make sense of it. I finally forced my eyes open and saw that Jace was
sitting crosslegged beside me holding my hard dick in one hand and rubbing
the index finger of his other hand in circles around the head of it.

"What're you doing?" I asked.

"Nothing."

I should have realized what the answer would be, but I wasn't fully awake.
As I woke up more, I thought of a better question. "Why are you holding my
dick like that?"

"To make it get hard," he told me. He had continued to hold it and run the
fingertip around the head, so clearly he wasn't feeling 'caught'.

"Just wanted to see if it would get hard or what?"

"Yeah, kinda. I figured out something and I wanted to see if it worked on
your dick."

"And it did, right?"

"Sure did! It got hard really fast."

"What are you doing with your finger there?"

"Rubbing around the stuff that comes out."

By this time it had registered that his fingertip felt lubricated. Since I
didn't usually begin to ooze precum without a moderate amount of
stimulation, I wondered how long he had been playing with my dick and what
result he was after. It suddenly occurred to me he was in the process of
masturbating me while I slept. Since I still thought of him as a child, it
was a shock.

"Why are you doing that?" I asked.

"I like the way it feels. Don't you?"

"Yeah, it feels great."

As I watched, he moved his fingertip from the head of my dick to the head
of his. I could see it sticking up from his lap, hard and with the foreskin
drawn back to reveal the little red head. He rubbed the head of his own for
a half minute or so before he moved his finger back to mine and rubbed the
head for a short while. I realized I was oozing drops of precum and he was
rubbing one of them around the head of my dick and the next around the head
of his own. I also noticed his hand was moving slowly up and down the shaft
of my dick. It wasn't moving through a great distance as if he were trying
to jerk me off. Instead, the motion seemed to be caused by the rubbing
action of his other hand almost as if that motion was being transferred
through his body from one hand to the other. But no matter what his
intention was, the slow regular stroking of my dick was steadily increasing
my level of excitement and consequently causing the steady flow of
precum. It would take a while, but if he continued what he was doing, he
would eventually make me cum.

He was completely absorbed in what he was doing and didn't notice me
watching him. After a few minutes I wondered what I ought to do. What I
really would have preferred was for him to settle down and for us to go to
sleep. I was about to suggest that when he spoke.

"What is this stuff anyhow?"

"What you're rubbing around?"

"Yeah. It's really slippery. I thought it was pee but it's not." He
continued rubbing as we talked.

"No, you're right. It's not pee." And then I told him all about precum.

"That's wild!" was his response. "How come I don't make any?"

"You probably will when you get older. Growing up is kind of like building
a building. Your body gets bigger each year, and while the part you can see
is getting bigger, the insides that you can't see are changing and
developing too. Your body just hasn't gotten around to finishing that part
of you yet. Some guys don't ever make precum. It just depends. But you
probably will." I started to add 'since I do and your dad does,' but I
didn't want to have to explain how I knew about his dad. I'd learned that
such not-so-innocent comments were the ones he was most likely to seize on
and ask embarrassing questions about.

"I can't wait until I do. It feels really good to rub it around on your
dick head."

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it. What d'ya think about getting some sleep? It's
kinda late."

"Yeah, ok," he said with some reluctance in his voice.

I could imagine him squatting there rubbing first my dick head and then his
until eventually the gentle vibration of his hand on the shaft of my dick
would bring me to an orgasm. It wasn't something I particularly wanted to
happen just then. But instead he cuddled up against me again in his usual
position. As I started to go to sleep, I felt his hand slide down my belly
and his fingers dig into my pubic hair to touch the base of my dick. A few
seconds later I was unconscious.

To be continued.
_______________

Comments appreciated. Send them to TimFoure@hotmail.com. Flames ignored.

My thanks to Zerena Rae who has for some time kept me more literate than I
might otherwise be.

Visit my website at SoManyMen.com/TimFoure/Stories/