Date: Thu, 19 Jul 2001 11:26:18 -0400 From: Lee Schenk Subject: "My Tim" Chapter 1 The following is the first chapter of "My Tim." The story is completely fictional and contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity between a father and his young son over the years. The story contains no violence, and all sexual activity is with the complete consent of all the persons involved. Anyone who is offended or otherwise disgusted by this kind of material should read no further. The author welcomes any comments about this story or his writing style. However, if all you want is to condemn me, don't bother. I ask you why are you in Nifty and this particular story area if you aren't interested yourself. So forget the flames. However, constructive suggestions are welcome. Send to: Lee at jlee0442@hotmail.com My Tim Chapter 1 - How It All Begins Where do I begin? Tim, a blond, blue-eyed, nearly 14 year old eighth grader, is my son, my best friend, and my lover. Yes, that's right, I said my lover. I try to think how this all began, this supposedly immoral incestuous relationship which most would condemn. Yet, this is a relationship so complete and so perfect I can not imagine it not being. So condemn me if you will, but I want you to know our story before you judge. My Tim was a sexual being as far back as I can remember. His fascination with the penis, both his, mine, and any others he might happen to see in the restroom or swimming locker room, was complete from the time he could just toddle. Let me say, I am a single parent. My wife of a two years left Tim and me shortly before Tim was a year old. She left with no word and to this day I have no idea where she is. Therefore, I have been the only real parent Tim has ever known. Both my parents are dead and I was an only child. I did not know if my wife had a family. I never met them, she never mentioned them, and I never asked. So, in essence, it was and is Tim and I together. I am gay and although I make no secret of it, it is not something I've announced to the world. I tried to live the straight life, even tried marriage to give my life the illusion of normalcy, but it didn't work. So when my wife departed, I decided I would not go that route again. But this is not about me, a 36-year-old man named Jim. It is about Tim, my Tim, and us together loving and helping each other become what and who we really are. As I said before, Tim was always a sexual creature. When I'd change his diaper and wipe his little penis with a baby-wipe, his peanut of a penis invariably became hard, and his little hand would reach down and fondle it. This also happened when I gave him his bath. Now perhaps this is normal. I have no experience with babies other than Tim. When he was about two, I decided it would be easier if we took a bath together since I usually became drenched in the process. He loved it! And the first thing he noticed was my flaccid penis. He couldn't quit looking at it and trying to touch it. I tried, for the most part unsuccessfully, to divert his attention. My penis was just too fascinating for the little tike. This went on for about a year with me trying to focus his attention elsewhere while I got him washed. Finally one day just after his third birthday when we were in the bath, he looked up at me and said, "Daddy, you wash me. Why don't I wash you?" I said, "That's what Daddies do. They wash their little boys, but Daddies are grown men and they don't need help washing." "But I want to wash you, Daddy," Tim replied. "Can I wash you too, please?" I figured why not and handed him the soap and my wash rag. The little imp for about 30 seconds made an effort to wash me, but then he reached out and grabbed my penis. Looking up at me, he smiled and said, "Your pee-pee is real dirty, Daddy. I better wash it good." And that is exactly what he started to do. I let him for do this for a little bit. I didn't want to him to be inhibited. But soon I could feel my cock begin to expand under his washing. I pushed his hands away and said, "I think I'm clean enough there. How about the rest of me?" Tim calmly put his hand back on my cock and stated flatly, "No, Daddy, I don't think it's clean yet. I need to wash it some more." I was taken back by his assertiveness and noticing his little dick was as hard as a rock and standing up straight, I pushed his hand away and got out of the tub. "We're clean," I announced. "Let's get dried off." I bundled him in a towel and patted him down and then tried to towel myself off. Tim took his towel, saying, "I'll help you, Daddy." He then immediately started toweling my cock. I picked him up and took him to our bedroom. As I placed him on the bed, I decided to ask him why he found my penis so interesting. "Tim, why did you want to wash, Daddy?" I decided the indirect approach would be better than just cutting to the chase (or my cock). "You always help me, so I wanted to help you. Did I do something wrong." "No, my little love, you did nothing wrong. I'm proud you wanted to help your Daddy." "I'd like to help you all the time, Daddy." "Tim, why did you just wash Daddy's penis-his pee- pee?" "Well, I like your pee-pee the best and it's where pee comes out, so it had to be real dirty." "That's true. Our penis does get very dirty because we use it to go to the bathroom. But why do you like my penis the best, Tim." "I don't know. I just do. I like my pee-pee and yours is so big and all nice and I want to see what it feels like." "I understand, Tim." "Can I feel it again, Daddy, right now?" "But we're not taking a bath now, Tim. It's all clean." "Yeah, but I still want to touch it. Can I? As he asked, he wrapped his little hand around my penis and looked up in my eyes. "I don't know, Tim. Some people would think it was bad for me to let you touch my penis." "Why?" he asked innocently, never taking his hand off my dick. I was at a loss. How did I describe the societal implications to a three-year old? "This is too hard to explain to you now, Tim. Let me just say, that many people would think I was a bad Daddy if I let you touch my penis. They would say I was abusing you." Tim looked puzzled, "What is aboosing, Daddy?" I smiled at his mispronunciation, "It means being mean to you and mistreating you and hurting you." "But you aren't doing that to me. You would never hurt me. You love me." "Yes, my little love, you are right. Daddy would never hurt you, but that doesn't mean lots of people would not think I was abusing you if they knew I let you touch my penis." Tim thought of what I'd said for moment and then his face lit up. "Daddy, we just won't tell anyone else." "That's very wise of you, Tim. No we won't ever tell anyone else that you touched my penis." When I finished, he once again wrapped his little hand around my prick. "What are you doing, Tim?" "I still want to touch your pee-pee some more." Then he paused and thought for a minute. "Do you think I am aboosing you, Daddy?" I smiled and tousled his little tow head, "No, my little love, I do not think you are abusing me. I think you are just a curious boy. If it makes you happy and no one ever knows but us, you can touch my penis. "I love you, Daddy!" "Oh, I love you too, Tim. I love you so much. Let Daddy lay down on the bed and then you can explore all you want." And that is exactly what I did. I lay on the bed and spread my legs and let my nearly 3 year old son crawl between my naked thighs and fondle my cock. Tim was very intent as he played with my dick and prodded my nut sack and hefted my balls in his little hands. I looked down at my exploring boy and smiled, amused at his intense curiosity. I did not get hard since I didn't see it as sexual, merely the sweet innocence of my son. Soon he flopped down on the bed beside me, spread his legs wide, and said, "Your turn Daddy to look at me." I dutifully climbed between his hairless legs and put my face down close to his little hard dick which was laying flat against his bald pubic bone. His little pea-sized balls hung in a small hairless, wrinkled sack. I'd never really inspected my son's genitalia that closely. The doctor, I noted, had done an excellent job of circumcising him. His little balls were so beautiful, as was the rest of him. Soon he propped himself up on his elbows and looked at me disgustedly. "You're not doing it right, Daddy. You're supposed to touch it while you look." "Okay, Tim, sorry," I smiled at my son's cute face. "Lay back down and I'll do it right." He flopped back down and I heard a sigh as I took his little peanut between my first finger and thumb. I rubbed it a bit and then took his little sack and both nuts in my hand and felt them. Then I tenderly caressed his bald pubic bone and his inner thighs and the space between his little balls and his baby asshole. To my amazement I found my cock was as hard as it had ever been. Here I was touching my little boy and I was getting totally turned on. I licked my finger and rubbed it around the small cap of his cockhead. Tim squirmed and sighed again, saying, "That feels good, Daddy. Tickle my pee-pee again." I slicked my fingers with spit and rubbed all over his little peanut. Tim propped himself up on his elbows and watched me jerk on his little dick. That's when he noticed my cock hard, standing up between my hairy thighs. I'm not particularly hung, but a rock hard, oozing 6-inch dick looked pretty impressive to a 3-year-old. "Daddy, your pee-pee is stiff too. Let me touch it now." He sprung up and scooted between my legs and grasp my hard cock without even waiting for my answer. "You got pee on your pee-pee, Daddy. It's all sticky." "That's not pee, Tim. It's something a man makes when he feels really good like I do now. You have to be big like me and have hair around your penis to make the sticky stuff. But don't worry it won't hurt you." "I'm not worried, Daddy. I like your pee-pee best when it's stiff like this. It's more fun to touch." I couldn't believe how hot it was to have my little boy playing with my dick, which stayed completely hard but never came close to shooting since he never established any kind of rhythm. Soon he was yawning. I pulled him up and lay him on my naked chest and rubbed his back for him. I leaned down and kissed the top of his little towhead and whispered, "I love you, my little, love, my Tim." He sighed, "I love you too, Daddy." He fidgeted a little on my chest and until he was comfortable and drifted off to sleep as I lightly rubbed his back and bottom and little legs. My cock was still rock hard and dripping. As I stroked my naked, sleeping son's body with one hand, I took my aching prick in my other hand and with a few firm strokes I shot one of the biggest loads of my life, all over me and my sleeping boy. Afterward I used my hand to get off as much cum as I could, licking the juice off my fingers. I didn't want him to wake up with dried cum all over his body. I wasn't ready to explain that. Then I turned the light off and tried to go to sleep. Sleep didn't come easily. What came was a severe attach of conscience. What had I done? How could I let this happen? I had abused my own little boy-the absolute light of my life. I determined that this would never happen again. Yet, even as I swore to myself that I would never take advantage of Tim again, I knew that Tim's innocence and insistence would get me to do much the same thing as we'd just done. He seemed so eager and so pleased and so happy-and I knew I would not let my son grow up thinking having a physical relation with a man was something to be ashamed of. If he turned out to be gay, I wanted him comfortable with his sexuality and proud of himself at all times, not closeted with guilt like I spent most of my life.