Date: Tue, 09 Oct 2001 10:20:25 -0500 From: Tim Foure Subject: MD Sequel chapter 31 Me and Dad the Sequel, Part 2 - The Next Generation - Chapter 31 - Charlie by Tim Foure copyright 2001 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. ___________ Chapter 31 - Charlie The easy nudity and frequent body contact with Dave and Larry at the gym sent me home twice a week even more ready for sex than I usually was, and during the early part of her pregnancy Linda was only too happy to oblige me. She continued to be surprised that I didn't come home from the gym exhausted as she'd expected I would. But as she grew bigger and her sex drive declined, I found myself masturbating during my morning shower more and more often, especially on Tuesdays and Fridays after I'd gone to the gym the night before. I was careful to wait until Mike had finished in the bathroom and had gone back to his room. It wasn't so much that I cared about him seeing me as it was a habit. I thought of masturbation as essentially a private activity. But then circumstances seemed to conspire to take away that privacy, though I didn't realize what was happening at first. As it became more difficult for Linda to get started in the mornings, she asked me to take over getting Mike up and ready for school. I was glad to help out, taking it for granted that the stories about how difficult Mike was to wake up were greatly exaggerated. It didn't take me long to realize that, if anything, the facts were being understated. Mike was very hard to rouse from sleep, and even when he'd been pulled far enough into consciousness to answer a direct question, he remained as limp as the proverbial boneless cat. For several mornings we struggled together, or I should say I struggled while he hung limply from my arms, to get his pajamas off and to guide him down the hall to the bathroom. It didn't seem to bother him in the least that he had a hardon which practically slapped me in the face each time I pulled off his pajama pants. Things eased up somewhat when he stopped wearing pajamas and I could avoid the effort of getting them off of him, but as a result he was even less awake when I pulled him from his bed. I felt peculiar at first as we went down the hall having a naked teenager hanging on me, his hardon the only part of his body which was self supporting. But after a few mornings like that, things changed. I found that instead of him ending up beside me when I pulled him out of bed, he came up practically in my arms. After a little rearranging, we ended up in our usual position so I could help him get to the bathroom. Then I became aware that the rearranging involved more and more rubbing of his crotch against mine. Since I was usually still sporting most of my morning erection, the rubbing was taking the form of his dick sliding against mine. By the time I had him standing beside me with his arm draped over my shoulders and mine around his waist, I was as hard as he was. He also seemed to be waking up much faster than he had been, though his level of consciousness seemed to level off as soon as he was standing beside me. I mulled this over and concluded he was up to something, and I had a fairly good idea what it was. I decided to go along with his game, watching his plays to see how he would bring it off. I have to give him credit for being fairly subtle about it, or as subtle as a teenager can ever be, but eventually we reached the point where he invited me to join him in the shower so we could masturbate together. From that morning on, on the few days a week when he had spent the night at home and Chris hadn't spent it with him, he invited me to join him in the shower. At first we masturbated ourselves, though after we were finished he always grabbed my dick and squeezed it lightly as he was getting out of the shower. But one morning he asked me, "Have you ever done it to somebody else?" "You mean masturbated someone else?" "Yeah. Or had somebody else do it to you?" "No, I never have." "It's really hot! Chris and I do it to each other all the time. Want to?" I mulled it over. It was more than I had intended to do. But then I decided, 'Why not?' "Ok. How do we do it?" I hadn't even gotten the question out before he had wrapped his lather-filled hand around my dick between my own hand and my pubic hair. He began stroking immediately, pushing my hand off the end of my dick. My method of masturbating is to keep the skin over the head and stroke lightly all the way to the end with my whole hand. I noticed immediately that he was doing the same thing. Since I knew it was unlikely he'd had any experience stroking uncut boys among his friends, I took it for granted he'd been watching me closely. The other possibility that occurred to me after a while was that, give the closeness of their relationship, his father might have taught him how to masturbate. The idea appealed to me. It was something I could look forward teaching my own son if Linda and I had a boy. "You can do me at the same time or wait and do me afterwards," Mike told me, breaking into my thoughts which were focused more and more on the pleasure his hand was giving me. "Which do you like better?" "I like to take turns better. That way you can pay attention when I'm doing you and I can pay attention when you're doing me." "Fine by me," I said, leaning against the side of the tub enclosure to support myself as Mike continued to stroke me. In a short time I had an intense orgasm, almost sliding down the wall of the tub as my knees went weak. As soon as I was finished, I worked up some lather with the bar of soap and took hold of Mike's dick. I had stroked it a few times in the same way as he had stroked me when he suddenly pulled back so his dick slid out of my hand. "You can't touch the head so much. It's too sensitive. I can't stand it. Hold it like this." He showed me with his own hand and then took mine and arranged it on his dick as he had demonstrated. As I started to stroke again, being careful to avoid the head, he closed his eyes and sighed. In under three minutes I felt his dick jerk in my hand and then begin to pulse as cum shot out the end. He grabbed my arm to support himself, opening his eyes and smiling as his dick began to soften. "That was great!" "I liked it too," I told him. He made short work of washing himself off and got out of the shower. I washed as he dried himself and dried myself as he brushed his teeth. I shaved after he left. And that became our pattern every morning he was home without Chris until a month or so after Jason was born when it began to taper off. At first I felt bad about the increasing infrequency of our mutual masturbation, as if I'd only been using him while Linda was unwilling or unable to have sex. But when I thought about it carefully, I realized he had been the one who had been in control all along, and he had also been the one to slow us down. We never stopped completely while he lived at home or was home on vacations from college, but it became a rare event rather than a regular activity. There was also an unexpected secondary effect from our mutual masturbation. I had thought Mike was exceptionally open with me almost from the first time I met him, and I was aware that the closeness of our relationship increased steadily in stages as we got to know each other better. But after we began our morning play in the shower, it seemed as if another layer had been peeled away because Mike started talking to me quite freely about sex and his own sexual activity. I had no experience with teenagers to compare this to, but I was certain this kind of openness was unusual. And I was amazed at the depth of his knowledge and the variety of things he and Chris had tried. I'd had to admit to him that I didn't have any similar experiences of my own to share with him since I'd hardly had any friends my own age as I was growing up. He told me he felt sorry for me for missing out as I had. So in an effort to return the same intimate level of information about myself that he was revealing to me, I began telling him of my dating experiences after my fiance and I had broken up and before I began dating his mother. I never talked about my sexual relationship with his mother, and he in turn never asked. As Linda got closer to her delivery date, Mike also started talking about the baby. He was hoping for a boy, and I had to admit many of my fantasies about my relationship with the baby as it grew up were centered around its being a boy too, though I did have a number of fantasies about what it would be like to have a daughter. Mike, it turned out, also had fantasies about the baby, but his were centered exclusively on its being a boy. He was particularly interested in one thing. "You're not gonna let them circumcise him, are you?" he asked me. "I hadn't really thought about it. But the doctor delivering him, if it is a him, won't do it with being told to. It doesn't happen automatically." "I thought it was, like, routine. But you're a doctor so you ought to know." In spite of what he said, he didn't look convinced, so I told him, "It is pretty much routine, but it still doesn't happen automatically. Parents have to give instructions to have it done. But it may be something as simple as checking a box on the papers you fill out during admission for delivery. I'll look into it." "Just make sure it doesn't happen to him, ok?" "Why is it such a big issue? It might be better for him in school if he is circumcised. I told you what it was like for me growing up and having a penis that looked different from what most of the other boys had." "I don't know why I think that way but I wish you wouldn't get it done to him." He paused for a few seconds. A shrewd look passed quickly over his face and then he said, "It'd really piss Grandfather off if you don't. He's the reason it happened to me. But I already told you that." I decided to play along with him. "Now you've given me something to think about. It doesn't matter to me one way or the other, but if it would piss your Grandfather off, then it might be worth doing. Or not doing, to be more accurate." Our shared dislike for Linda's father was one of our strongest bonds. "Honest, it will! You can ask my dad." "No need. I believe you." "So you won't then? Promise?" "I'll talk to your mother about it." "Why? She doesn't have a dick. What would she know about it." "Well, she is having the baby. Remember? And if she has an opinion about this, I want to know what it is. You could always talk to her about it." "You're kidding, right? Talk to my mom about dicks? No way!" I couldn't help but laugh. "You know, she has seen one. In fact, she's seen yours, though not recently. But I'll talk to her about it and let you know what she says. Ok?" "Yeah, that'd be great! But I still hope you don't do it to him." And in the end, we didn't. When we brought Jason home, Mike offered to babysit whenever we wanted. Linda was sure he would be less willing once the newness of the baby wore off. When he told her he wanted to learn how to change his diaper so he could help her out, she was certain that would be the turning point. Personally I thought he only wanted to check on the condition of Jason's foreskin, but I kept that to myself. But Mike surprised us both. He remarked a few times that it was hard to believe such awful smells could come from such a cute baby, but he changed Jason's diaper whenever Linda asked him to or whenever he decided for himself that it was needed. That meant I was seldom saddled with the task, a thing for which I was very grateful. Over a short period of time Mike showed his willingness to do nearly anything for Jason that needed doing. The one thing he couldn't do, though, and the one thing that probably caused the greatest change in Mike's thinking, was breast-feed him. One evening a few days after coming home from the hospital. Linda settled on the sofa and began to feed Jason. Mike was watching television and apparently hadn't noticed what she was doing until she spoke to him and he turned to answer her. As soon as he saw her breast, he turned very red and began to stammer that he'd leave until she was done. "You can stay here while I feed him," Linda told him. "It's ok." "No, that's ok. I'll just go do my homework or something." He was out of his chair and headed for the door. "Mike. Come back here." He stopped but he didn't backtrack. And he wouldn't look at Linda. "You're being silly. This is a perfectly natural thing and you're old enough to know it. Now sit down and watch your program." "I'd rather go do my homework." "You're not fooling me for one minute. I know you better than that." The tone of her voice changed. "You know, this isn't the first time you've seen my breast. You looked at it close up for quite a long time while you were nursing." He did look at here when she said that. "I did that?" "Of course. That's the way you feed babies." "Then what are baby bottles for?" "For mothers who can't or don't want to feed their babies at the breast. I can and I want to besides." "I really did the same thing as he's doing?" He gestured toward Jason. "Same thing exactly. Now sit down." He sat. Every once in a while he would turn his head and look at her, and whenever she noticed she'd smile at him. The next time it happened, he seemed to be paying no attention, though I did notice him looking out the corner of his eye at her periodically. Linda noticed it too. "You know what, Mike?" "What?" he asked, turning to look at her. "I learned something recently I want you to learn too. It took me a long time to learn it and I wish I'd learned it sooner. Being nude or having part of your body show that's normally covered isn't always sexual just because someone else is there to see it. I never would have nursed you in front of anyone else except maybe my mother. Now I know that was a mistake. I know you're smart enough not to make the same kind of mistake, so I decided I'd ask you to think about it." "Ok," was all he said. But within days he paid only as much attention to the breast feeding as he did to most things concerning Jason. And he told me one morning he didn't need his robe to walk down the hall any more. I couldn't resist asking, "What if your mother sees you." "It's just a piss hard. Everybody gets them in the morning. Men I mean. Right? I know Mom won't care, so I decided to get over it." "Good for you," I told him, thinking that Linda's lesson took just as she had intended. To be continued _______________ Comments appreciated. Send them to TimFoure@hotmail.com. Flames ignored. Earlier chapters of this story are archived at WWW.NIFTY.ORG in the gay male/incest section.