Date: Tue, 12 Oct 1999 21:06:50 GMT From: Tim Foure Subject: "Me and Dad, part 19" (M/t) (incest) Me and Dad, part 19 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. ___________ When I woke up on Christmas morning, Jerry was in bed with me again. I didn't even remember him waking me during the night. Perhaps he hadn't even tried, but just crawled in with me since I had let him the night before. And again my leg was numb where he had cut off the circulation to it. I also had my usual morning hardon, and he was on top of me enough that his leg was laying across it, increasing the pressure on my bladder. I got myself out from under him without waking him and went to relieve myself. I noticed in the bathroom that I had a red mark on my chest above my nipple where he had pressed his mouth both nights. It wasn't sore, but it was certainly red. I guessed that he sucked on my skin there while he slept. As I was coming back into the room, Bill came in the hall door. He started at seeing me, apparently expecting me to be asleep. He looked embarrassed. I smiled at him and said good morning. He smiled back, sheepishly, and said good morning as well. Then he continued, "I thought they'd be up by now." I had decided before I went to sleep that seeing him jerk off was just as hot for me as watching me had been for him. I wasn't angry about it any more either. If anything, I had decided that I liked it. So I said, "Listen, I'm cool with last night." He looked a little surprised. "Really?" "Really," I said. "I don't have a problem with it at all, ok?" "It's definitely ok with me," he replied. He looked greatly relieved. He lifted Jerry out of my bunk and started talking to him quietly. Jerry wrapped his arms and legs around his father almost in a reflex reaction. Next he shook the intermingled twins, who woke up simultaneously and leaped out of bed, yelling, "It's Christmas!" over and over. They would have run out of the bunk room naked if Bill hadn't had his hand against the door, keeping them from opening it. "Put your pajamas on first!" he said. Two minutes later they ran out in their pajamas, still yelling. That ended sleep for everyone in the house. When I had gotten some clothes on and went downstairs, I saw the usual Christmas morning tableau of a circle of children surrounding the tree waiting to leap on the pile of packages surrounded by a circle of adults holding coffee cups. Always before I had been in there with the kids, but this year I hung back with the adults. Tony was the last one to arrive, his arrival signaling the start of the orgy of ribbon pulling and paper shredding. At Grandfather's insistence, thanks from the kids always took the form of notes written after Christmas, so the satisfaction of the children's greed was not marred by any need on their part to recognize the existence of the agency which had provided a particular gift. Because Pat was the youngest grandchild, he opened the first present and was practically knocked over by the surprise emergence of the puppy. I heard Sue ask Grandmother where the puppy had come from since she hadn't seen it when they wrapped packages the day before. Grandmother told her she had just closed the box five minutes before the children had started coming down the stairs. We discovered later that she had gotten up during the night to check on the puppy in its bed in the garage, and because it had looked lonely, she had ended up spending the last half of the night sitting in the kitchen with the puppy asleep in her lap. Grandfather watched with a look of keen anticipation on his face greater than that of the children themselves as they dug furiously through wrappings in hopes of finding just the gift they had wanted. When Pat discovered the puppy in the first package, I saw an evil glint develop in Grandfather's eye as he waited to see his plan to separate the twins come to fruition. But his hopes were dashed when Pat immediately handed the puppy to Pete and asked him what they would call it. When Pete replied "Roger", Grandfather asked Pat if he wouldn't rather name the puppy himself. Pat looked at him as if he were crazy and said, "His name's Roger." Grandfather sank back in his chair, temporarily defeated, and the twins naturalized a third citizen into their private little world. It was certain that Roger would never be lonely again. Once the children had assured themselves that there was no more loot to be had, they vacated the area around the tree and the adults moved in to parcel out the remaining gifts. The adults thanked each other on the spot for the gifts they received. I did the same, except in the case of Grandfather's and Grandmother's gift. I thanked Grandmother and hugged her, the first time I think I had ever done that. She was flustered by it, but seemed pleased. My mom chimed in at that point telling Grandfather how much I liked it, whatever it was. Having separated myself from the children by my behavior, I found that my perspective had changed as well. I had never noticed it before, but each of the children had staked out a part of the room in which they had piled their gifts. Pete and Pat, of course, had only one pile between them. But all the children then guarded their piles the way a broody hen guards her eggs. I was almost embarrassed to realize that I had had my own pile the year before. Grandmother went to start Christmas breakfast, called that by tradition but seldom served before midday. No doubt thinking of her carpets, she somehow managed to keep one eye on the puppy while she organized her workers in the preparation of the meal. At one point she told Pete that he probably ought to take Roger outside so he could do his business, only to be told in return that they had just come back in. It turned out that Pete could tell when Roger needed to go, even before the urge had struck Roger himself. It became even more uncanny when the adults began to notice that Roger did his business, whichever it happened to be, as soon as Pete took him out the door. This information spread among the adults, who were so amazed that they began a pool on the day and time at which Roger would have his first accident. While breakfast was being prepared, everyone cycled through the bathrooms and reappeared presentably clothed and without the pillow perms they had had earlier. Even the kids were driven off their nest-like piles of booty and made to go dress themselves or, in the case of the twins, be dressed by their father. It was, as it had been every year, a suspicious and watchful band of kids that was herded up the stairs, each child certain that someone would raid his hoard of gifts while he was gone. During breakfast Grandfather suffered his second serious defeat of the holiday. Pat placed Roger's bowl on the floor at the corner of the children's table between himself and Pete. When Grandfather saw it, he told Pat that the dog would have to eat in the garage. Pete moved between Pat and Grandfather and said, "That's Roger." Grandfather said, clearly annoyed, "I know what the dog's name is. Dogs don't eat in the house." Completely unperturbed, Pete said, "That's Roger. He eats here," pointing to the spot where he had placed the bowl. Grandfather then made the mistake of trying to bypass Pete and give the order directly to Pat. "Pat, take your dog to the garage while we have breakfast." Pat looked at Grandfather over Pete's shoulder while Pete said again, "That's Roger. He eats here." As if to emphasize that Grandfather had overstepped his bounds by speaking directly to Pat after Pete had already given him the answer, Pete frowned at Grandfather and then moved so that Pat was completely behind him. Pete also put his hand back onto Pat's hip, as if he were protecting him. Then he just stared at Grandfather, whose face had begun to turn red. Having had no success with the twins, Grandfather directed his attention toward Roger, who was sitting in the undignified position that puppies always assume and staring at each speaker in turn. "Come here, you!" he said. Roger's ears lifted, leaving only the points flopped over. He stared at Grandfather, holding his head to one side in the way that dogs do when they seem to be trying to understand what a human has said. No one, and most of the adults were now watching, no one expected the eight-week-old puppy to obey Grandfather. And of course he didn't. This angered Grandfather even more. He grabbed for the puppy. What happened next did so with the coordinated smoothness of long practice even though Roger and the twins had come into contact for the first time scarcely two hours earlier. Roger jumped just as Grandfather's hand was about to close around his neck and bit Grandfather on the fleshy part of his hand between the thumb and index finger. At the same time Pete wrapped both arms and legs around one of Grandfather's calves and Pat did the same on the other. The twins then sank their teeth into Grandfather's knees. Down he went with a thud. The three defenders scrambled away, forming a tight, watchful group on the other side of the kitchen from where Grandfather was lying on the floor. Grandmother and Tony rushed to Grandfather's aid, helping him up from the floor. He was very red in the face and so angry that he couldn't speak coherently. It was immediately clear that none of the bites had broken the skin. Nevertheless, Grandmother took him out of the kitchen to "put something on these wounds." As they passed Bill, Grandfather regained the power of speech just in time to berate him for the "unruliness of your two brats." Then he was gone, surrounded by a gaggle of well-wishers. I looked at Bill and smiled, saying, "Now I betcha he thinks the puppy was a bad idea." Bill smiled back, "Yeah. I'm beginning to be real fond of Roger." Pete and Pat, the disturbance over, took their places at the children's table and waited for their breakfast. Roger, of course, was on the floor between them, in the spot where he ate all of his meals for the rest of that holiday. After breakfast, the adults, a group in which I now included myself, sat around talking and watching tv while the kids focused their attention on their gifts. It amazed me that Sue and Melissa could be just as absorbed in holding up their gifts of clothing and imagining what they would look like wearing them as Jerry could be in playing with his toys. Pete, Pat, and Roger ran back and forth through the house periodically, involved in some sort of game which they appeared to understand intuitively and which no one else could even begin to fathom. Grandfather watched and brooded. Efforts were made to rekindle his Christmas cheer, with eventual success. In the middle of the afternoon I called my dad at my grandparents' house since I knew he would be there. I wished him and Gramom and Granpop Merry Christmas and told them what I had gotten. Dad told me we would have Christmas again with them when I was staying with him. After the call I went back into the family room. Bill seemed to seek out my company, as he had the day before. We made the same sorts of conversation everyone else was making, talking about nothing in particular. Then all of the women moved into the kitchen to help Grandmother fix Christmas dinner. Sue and Melissa, though technically not women, went with them. Grandfather went up to his room for a nap, and Tony, not having Grandfather there to brown-nose and not liking either me or Bill well enough to waste his time on us, disappeared to no one cared where. Bill and I watched the boys playing on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. After a while Bill said to me, "I want to apologize again for watching you last night." He was speaking quietly, so we wouldn't attract the boys' attention, but he wasn't whispering. "I'm ok now, you just surprised me is all," I replied in the same quiet voice. "I didn't hear you come in." "You wouldn't have heard a bomb go off. You looked so completely wrapped up in what you were doing!" "Yeah, I was really into it," I said sheepishly. "I've never even seen any porn that was as hot as that," he said. "Glad you liked it," I said. "Then when your first shot landed by my foot, I couldn't stand it any more." "I been working on increasing my range," I said, with a smile that said I was only half serious. "You did damn good for a guy your age." "So did you," I said. He laughed. "Well, I wasn't trying for range. I just had to get off as fast as I could." "Looked to me like you did. What'd it take you, like 20 seconds?" I asked. "Years of practice. When I was a teenager, I could do it in less time than that. Always afraid the old man would catch me. So it was the quicker, the better." "I would've hated that," I said. "Me too. Can't begin to imagine what he would have said if he ever caught me. But it wouldn't've been pleasant." "I can't believe we're talking about this," I said. "After last night, we have a secret. Now we got to stick together. You seem like you really grew up a lot this year." "Thanks." I didn't know what else to say. "No, I mean it. I meant it as a compliment. You remind me of your dad." "Thanks a lot. I do really mean that," I said. "I think your dad's quite a guy." "Me too. He told me he thought you were too," I said. "Really? I didn't know what he thought of me. He has lots of reasons not to think anything good." "Maybe. But he knows what Grandfather's like too." "You really do have brass balls, ya know, staring him down like that last night," he said. "Looks like they're running in the family this year. Pete did a pretty good job on him this morning." "He'd of killed me if I stood up to him like that." "He's already hit me once. He knows he better not do it again," I said. "Yeah, I heard about that," he said. "I think everybody did. Seems like it anyhow. Maybe he learned he better not be hitting people in case somebody bigger hits him back." Grandfather returned at that point, cutting off our conversation. Tony appeared suddenly too and followed him into the room. It occurred to me as I watched him sidle up to Grandfather that even Roger, puppy that he was, had more dignity when he was looking for attention from Pete and Pat. Dinner was the usual table-groaner. It was generally agreed as we finished with dessert that anyone who could still breathe hadn't eaten their fair share. I pitied Grandmother with all the dishes to wash, so I offered to help. But I was told that the women could take care of it and it wasn't a man's job. Sue and Melissa were, as usual, not as interested in being considered women now as they had been earlier in the day. So the males, adult and child, retired to the family room to watch the fire and vegetate until the mess was cleaned up in the kitchen. Jerry, Pete, Pat, and Roger recovered more quickly than the rest of us and began playing. Grandfather and Tony agreed on their shared opinions, this being what they did in place of normal conversation. Bill and I watched his boys play, lulled by the doxology-like drone of Grandfather spouting an opinion and Tony asserting the rightness of it in formulaic fashion. Eventually the women joined us too, and the tv was turned on so we could watch the Christmas night specials. When the kids began to fade, Bill gathered up his brood and headed them toward the stairs. He asked me over his shoulder if I felt like giving him a hand with them again tonight, and I decided I would. We had to wait while Pete took Roger out one last time. Grandfather bestirred himself enough to announce that dogs usually slept in the garage. Pete told him, "Roger sleeps with us." There was no further discussion. I had begun to decide that Roger was a very strange puppy indeed. Instead of sleeping the undisturbable, boneless sleep that all puppies sleep, he seemed to sleep with one eye open. All day I noticed that he fell asleep immediately when Pete and Pat stopped moving, but the second they did move, he was up and moving with them. He also seemed to watch whatever was happening around him until he understood it well enough to participate. This happened again while Bill was bathing the boys. As we herded the three boys into the shower room, Roger went and sat in the corner at the opposite end from the showers and watched intently as Bill bathed Jerry. At first I thought Roger was just trying to avoid getting wet, puppies being like little boys in their natural enmity to soap and water. When Jerry was handed off to me to be dried and Pat replaced him under the shower, I noticed that Roger divided his attention between the two of them. The surprise came when I started to dry Pat. Roger came over to help. He set about drying Pat's legs and feet with his all- purpose tongue. Pat accepted this as only natural, as if it had happened just this way all of his life. "Should I make him stop?" I asked Bill, whose hand was poised in mid air, ready to begin lathering Pete but frozen in surprise over what Roger was up to. "No, guess not," he said as he began to wash Pete. "He'll get tired of it soon." But he didn't. Instead, having finished drying the lower part of Pat's legs, he stood up on his hind feet, placed his front paws on Pat's legs, and began licking Pat's genitals. Again, Pat acted as if this were perfectly normal. "How about now?" I asked, almost laughing. Bill was on the verge of laughter too. "I'd sure like somebody to do that to me!" he said, giving in to the laughter. "No lie!" I said, laughing too. Roger went on unconcernedly but thoroughly drying Pat's little penis and ball sac. Since I had dried the rest of him, and since Roger seemed satisfied that I had done an adequate job, he sat on the floor when he was finished, obviously waiting to go to work on Pete. "That's amazing!" I said. "Yeah, sure is!" Bill said. I noticed that Bill's dick was a little longer than it had been when he was bathing the boys the night before. When Bill passed Pete to me, I began drying his head and back while Roger started on his feet. It ended just the same way, with Roger drying his penis and balls. Bill watched the whole time, not getting under the shower himself. "I've never seen anything like that," he said, shaking his head. He dried himself and put on his bathrobe, leaving his pajama pants hanging on the hook. Then he said, "I'll need to get a shower too after I get these guys in bed, ok?" "Yeah, I'm going to get cleaned up too," I replied. I got hard as he was saying that, thinking about the talk we had had during the afternoon and anticipating at least a good look at Bill's dick when it was fully hard. After he had taken the boys into the bunk room and closed the door, I stripped my clothes off and got under the shower. The water felt good beating on my hardon. In a few minutes I started lathering myself up slowly, knowing he would be a little while getting the boys settled. I was washing my hair and had my eyes closed to keep the soap from running into them when I felt hands slide across my hipbones to cup my balls and grasp my dick. I also felt a dick slide up my back as a belly was pressed against me, trapping that dick in between. "Ok if I do that?" Bill asked. "Yeah, but I want to get the soap off my face." Instead of answering me, Bill maneuvered us both under the shower spray. My hands were free, so I worked the soap out of my hair and made sure that there wasn't any residue around my eyes to burn them. Bill massaged my balls gently and jerked my dick. I reached behind me, trying for a feel of his dick, but able to touch only the sides of his legs and his butt. I said, "I want to feel yours too." With that, Bill let go of me and turned around, so I pressed my dick up against his legs and slid my hands around to take hold of his dick and balls. I was surprised how big his dick actually was when I touched it. It may have been half again as thick as my dad's and it was definitely longer. The skin on it was stretched tight by the circumcision, even tighter than mine. His balls were proportionately larger too, hanging looser than any I had felt before, and surprisingly hairless. "Your balls are like mine," I said. "No hair." "I shave 'em," he said. That was a possibility I had never even considered. My interest was in acquiring body hair, not removing it. "How come?" I asked. "Makes 'em more sensitive," he told me. Then I remembered my dad telling me that that was an advantage of my own balls still being hairless. I began to drag my fingertips lightly over his, using the water running down his body as lubrication. "Oh, yeah!" he said. I had been holding his dick, trying to memorize the feel of it. I began to jerk it slowly with a loose hand. As I did that, he began rubbing his butt back and forth against me. He meant to rub my dick with it, but he was so much taller than me that it was rubbing across my belly and not touching my dick at all. He even tried lowering himself by spreading his feet apart, but that made it harder for him to move his butt, and it didn't work either. "Lemme be Roger for a while," he said. I didn't understand what he meant at first. I caught on when he got on his knees in front of me and began licking my dick and balls. He was also kneading my butt with both of his hands. Since I was already good and hot, it was almost more than I could stand. I held out as long as I could and then said, "I'll shoot if you don't stop." "I got a little more time," he said as he stood up. I got on my knees and did the same thing to him. His dick filled my mouth completely, making it impossible for me to use my tongue. I had to keep one hand wrapped around the base of it to keep it from going in too far, so I only hand one hand to use on his butt. The muscle was big and round and firm, the result of years of daily jogging. When I realized all I could do with his dick was slide it in and out of my mouth, I went back to licking it and his balls while jerking the bottom half of his dick. He began to rub my head while I was licking him. A few minutes later he told me to stand up. He went down on his knees again and started sucking my dick. This time it was clear he meant for me to cum. He was jerking his own dick at the same time. "Wait," I said. "I'll suck yours after I cum." "Nah, it's too big, you'll just have trouble with it," he said. "Then let me jerk you off," I said. "I really want to." "Ok, but we have to finish up quick. I been in here too long already." He proceeded to suck me off. I came quickly. I was barely done shooting when he let go of my dick and stood up. I dropped to my knees and started sucking the head of his dick hard while jerking the shaft. "Oh, yeah!" he said. I kept it up until he came, which didn't take long. He shot a lot of cum. The first shot hit me in the throat with some force, the same force that had propelled it across the shower room the night before. I had to fight the urge to gag and then I was alright. As soon as he was done shooting, he pulled his dick out of my mouth. "Thanks," he said. "That was great! But I gotta go!" He grabbed a towel and began drying himself off in a hurry. I got up and walked with him. I had never done it like this before, where it was over so suddenly. Even Chris and I liked to make the afterglow last as long as possible While he was pulling on his pajama pants, I noticed that he had brought one of the straight chairs from the bunk room and wedged it under the door handle. It was then that I realized that the bathroom door didn't have a lock on it. I hadn't given any thought to the boys coming in on us, but he had. He pulled the chair out from under the handle and said good night as he left. I went back to the shower and finished lathering myself, having gotten only half of a shower before he came back. I ended up jerking off again too because I hadn't gotten the usual feeling of satisfaction which I now expected from sex in our quick exchange of blow jobs. As I was putting away my dirty clothes in the bunk room, I noticed that Roger was sleeping on top of the twins with his nose tucked under one twin's ear and the other twin's arm laying possessively across him. True to form, the twins had already shed their pajamas. I looked to see if Jerry was awake, but he was peacefully asleep too. I pulled on my clean boxers and slid into my bunk. Within minutes I was also asleep. To be continued. _______________ Comments appreciated. Send them to yngtim@hotmail.com. Flames ignored.