Date: Sat, 17 Mar 2012 14:00:10 -0700 (PDT) From: Jerlar Subject: New Shower, Part 8 - Next Generation This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law. This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author. Mark Stevens New Shower, Part 8 - Next Generation The next few years brought many more changes in my life. Right after I graduated from high school I married Debbie, the girl I had met my senior year. The following year brought an even bigger change with the birth of my son, Brandon. I had planned on going to college, but with Brandon's arrival, that was put on hold. Knowing that I needed a way to earn a decent living now that I had a family of my own, Dad pulled some strings and got me hired on with the Postal Department. And, for a few years everything was good, life was great. With everything changing for me, the one thing that remained the same was the feelings I shared for my father and my uncle. My mother and aunt continued with their now once a month shopping trips, and after Brandon was older, I managed to convince Debbie to join them. The only draw back was we were limited in what we did with him around. Playing had to be done after my son was put down for the night, or during a day time nap. Still, the three of us, Dad, Dennis, and I, were happy to get whatever time we could scrape out of our busy schedules. Like I said, this was our way of life for several years, and I thought we were doing a great job working things out the way we did. However, I was very wrong in assuming any such thing. Debbie and I had been married twelve years when she suddenly announced to me she wanted out of the marriage. After Brandon had gone to bed one evening she told me we needed to talk. My mouth dropped. I was shocked and surprised to the point I couldn't take in what she was saying. "What did you say, Debbie?" "I said I need out." "You want a vacation?" "Steve, I love you; you've always been here for me. "But I feel so smothered at times I can hardly breathe." "Will time away help you? If so, I can work something out with Mom to help with Brandon." I watched as my wife of twelve years stood to her feet. She walked across the room and turned to face me. "No, Steve, time won't help. Let's face it; we were just kids when we married. And still kids, we had Brandon. I feel as if I've never had a life at all. I need one," she said quietly. The shock I felt left me and was replaced with anger. "Then get the fuck out of here." "What about Brandon?" I looked at her with daggers in my eyes. "What about him?" "What will we do about him?" I repeated her words. "`What will we do'? I don't know what your plans are? Mine are to raise our son and keep his life stable, same as I always have. I don't give a shit what your plans are." Debbie was silent for a couple moments. Finally she said, "I know you don't believe me, Steve, but I really am sorry I've hurt you. I would never do that intentionally." "Well, excuse the hell out of me, but I feel what you are doing is about as intentional as you can get." "I will sleep in the guest room tonight and in the morning I will take Brandon to school." "What are you going to tell him?" "At this point, I really don't know." "Do you even love your son?" "How can you ask that?" I suddenly felt completely crushed. "I'm through talking here. You can tell him whatever the fuck you choose. I will be at school to pick him up tomorrow afternoon." I watched as she turned and left the room, taking the last twelve years of my life with her. <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< I went into work the next day, but after a sleepless night and with no idea what I was going to do; I took a personal day from the post office and headed to the only place I knew to go. I went home to my mother. When I opened the door and walked into the kitchen I found her cleaning up after breakfast. She turned around and first gave me a smile and then replaced it with a worried look. "Is everything okay, Steve?" she asked. "I just wanted to spend some time with you, Mom. Any coffee left?" My mother poured a cup and handed it to me. "Sit," she ordered. "This is not you; what's happened?" I sat down at the kitchen table. "Debbie's left." I could hardly get the words out, let alone make any sense. "Where has she gone?" Had I not been so torn up I'm sure I would have found humor in my mother's words. "She's gone, Mom. She wants out of our marriage." Mom's face went white. "My God," she said. "What happened?" I shook my head. "Don't have a clue, Mom. All the time we've been married we've hardly ever had a cross word. I thought everything was going smooth." Mom took a sip from her cup. Then she sat it down and asked, "What about Brandon?" "Debbie was taking him to school today. I told her I could care less what she told him. I'm going to pick him up this afternoon." "Do you think you should pick him up now? Depending on what she tells him, he could be pretty up set." "I thought about it, but I decided to ride it out. I called the school before I left work and told them I would be here today if they should need me." Mom reached over and gave my arm a pat. "I'm glad you came home, Steve. Did you talk to your dad before you left work?" "I didn't see him. I have a feeling he will call here when he finds out I took the day off." "You think you should call him yourself?" "I think I'll wait here. If that's okay with you, Mom," I ended. "You can stay here long as you need," she assured me. "I appreciate that, Mom." I stood to my feet. "If you don't mind I think I will go up to my old room. I could use some time alone." "I understand, Steve." I leaned down and gave her a kiss. "I didn't get any sleep last night," I told her. "I'm going to lie down for a bit." I hurried up the stairs to my old room. Nothing had been changed over the years, and it still looked the same as always. I fell down on the bed and closed my eyes. I tried to make my brain slow down, but failed. I could see the look on Debbie's face when she told me she wanted out of our marriage. If I lived to be a hundred years old I would never forget that look. I must have drifted off to sleep, because suddenly I heard Dad's voice." "Steve?" He gave a tap on the door facing. I opened my eyes and saw him standing there. "Hey, Dad," I greeted." My father closed the door behind him and quickly made his way across the room to my bed. "I am so sorry, Son." I rose up from the bed and went into his arms. For a moment neither of us spoke a word. He just held me tightly, and suddenly I began to feel safe once more. I finally broke loose and pulled away. "Mom tell you my news?" Dad nodded. "She did," he said. "I wish there was something I could do to make this all better. Hell, I wish there was something I could do that would make it go completely away; but there isn't," he ended sadly. He took me back in his arms. "Just know I love you, Steve, and I will do anything you need to help you through this. You and Brandon, both," he added quietly. "I'm going to call the school and check him out this afternoon. I need to be with him." "And I'm sure he feels the same way," Dad agreed. Dad gave me a kiss. It was gentle and reassuring. "Just know your Mom and I will do whatever you need, okay?" I forced myself to smile. "I know." Dad stood to his feet. "For starters, what say we go down stairs and join your mom? I'm sure she's very worried about you." I got up from the bed and followed him to the door. Before he opened it, I put my hands on his shoulders, forcing him to turn and face me. "I want you to know how much I appreciate both you and Mom." Dad kissed me lightly on the mouth. "We're here for you, and together, we'll make work through this mess." I followed Dad down the stairs, and we joined my mother in the kitchen. "I have sandwich fixings if you two are hungry," she told us. I gave her a hug. "I love you, Mom." Tears formed in her eyes, and she said, "I love you, too, Steve. And you know how I feel about Brandon," she added. We somehow choked our food down. When I couldn't manage to eat any more, I said, "I think I'll head to the school and pick Brandon up. He should be finished with lunch by now. After all, it is Friday. We'll just get started with our weekend a bit early." Before I left I asked Dad if he wanted to ride into town with me. "I don't think so, Son. I think you and Brandon need the time together." As I drove the short distance back into town, I thought about my son and what I would say to him. I wasn't exactly sure what Debbie had told him, and I was filled with mixed emotions. Part of me dreaded to see him, while another part couldn't wait to see him, to hug him close to me. When I reached the school, I hurried inside and asked the secretary in the office to call him out for early dismissal. I sat on one of the wooden chairs and waited. When I saw him coming down the hall a few minutes later, I quickly jumped to my feet and went to him. I wanted to reach out and pull him to me and never let go of him. That's what I wanted to do. What actually happened was this: "Hey, Brandon, how would you like to leave this place?" "I would like that a lot, Dad," he said quietly. "You're all checked out, so let's go." Once we were in the car, Brandon turned to me and asked, "What the hell happened, Dad?" I looked at him and suddenly I couldn't keep the tears from flowing. "I don't know, Son. I am just as shocked as you are." I started the car. "Let's go somewhere and talk." "Can we go home, Dad?" I looked at my son. "Is that what you want?" He nodded and remained silent. Debbie and I had bought our first house about five years ago, and she had seemed so happy at the time. We both were, in fact. It wasn't as big as the one I had grown up in, but we were proud of it all the same. It was about half a mile from the school, and I drove there now. I pulled into the drive and shut the car engine off. I turned in the seat and faced my son. "What did your mother tell you, Brandon?" My son didn't reply for a time. He sat there looking out the car window, and I could almost see the wheels in his head turning. Then he turned and faced me. "Some shit about loving me but needing some space," were the words he said. "She does love you, Son." The words sounded hollow, but I didn't know what else to say. Brandon's eyes blazed red and he said, "Don't defend her, Dad." "I'm sorry, Son." Brandon shrugged his shoulders. "What do you have to be sorry for? You weren't the one that left." I tried to piece together in my mind what I wanted to say, but words seemed to fail me. Finally I said, "We'll get through this, Brandon, I know we will. If it's all right with you, I think we'll spend a few days with Nana and Grandpa. I need to sort some things out myself." "Do they know she left?" "Yes. I went by and told Nana this morning. Grandpa came home at noon, and we talked." "What do they think about it?" "They're shocked, same as we are. They don't know what to make of it all." "Are they all right with us staying out there?" I nodded and said, "They are all for it." "Good, let's go." I looked across the seat at my son. God, he reminded me of myself when I was his age. He had turned twelve in September, and already he was showing signs of growing into a nice looking young man. "Do you mind going in the house? We really need to pack a few things to take with us." He opened his door and got out. "Sounds like a winner to me." I followed him up the walk, and together we walked inside the house; the home where I had made a life with the woman I loved for the past five years. We were greeted by a thick heavy silence, and it was almost deafening to my ears. "Just take whatever you want for now," I told him. We separated and went different ways, and soon met up again in the living room. We each had packed a bag and were ready to leave. I forced myself to smile. "Find everything you need for now?" He nodded. "Yeah, so let's get the hell out of here." I looked around the room. "I agree, let's go." <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< The evening meal was over, and Brandon and I were in my parent's living room. Mom was cleaning up the kitchen with Dad offering what help he could. They soon joined us. Dad looked at me and asked, "Steve, you feel like going for a drive? Your mother says she wants a little time with her favorite grandson here." Surprised, I looked at Brandon. "You okay with that?" "I'm fine, Dad," he assured me. I stood to my feet. "I could use a little fresh air," I said. We grabbed our jackets and headed out the door. "Let's take my truck," Dad said." Once inside with Dad behind the wheel, we headed out the drive. Dad asked, "Any idea where you'd like to go?" I gave it a serious thought. Then I said, "You know what I would like? I would love some time with you." A look of surprise came on my father's face. "Are you serious?" I reached over and placed a hand on his leg. "Well, maybe not in the usual way," I told him. I was quiet for a minute. Then I said, "I would love to crawl into bed with you naked and just cuddle." Dad stared at the road in front of him for a minute. Then he said, "Well there's only one place we can go for that to happen. Are you up to it?" "Going to my house? I don't think that would be a problem for me. Would you be okay doing that?" For an answer, my father picked up speed and drove faster, creating a cloud of dust behind us. In no time at all he was stopping in front of my house. We hurried up the walk and went inside. The door closed behind us, he quickly pulled me into his arms, and suddenly I felt as if nothing bad was going on in my life. My lips found his, and I felt his tongue work its way deep inside my mouth. As we kissed, I began pulling him down the hall to the bedroom; the room I had shared with Debbie for the past five years. In only seconds we were both naked and in the bed. His naked body next to mine, I couldn't keep my fingers out of his thick chest hair. As the years began to pass after we started playing together, strands of gray had began to make their way through the thick brown curls, making him look even sexier. My cock suddenly gave a leap and was standing at full mast. Given with all the shit I had been through in the last twenty-four hours, I was surprised. "Oh, Steve, I love you so much," Dad whispered. "I know you do, Dad. I love you with all my heart." Dad ran his hands along my own hairy chest, stopping when he came to my dick. "Are you sure this is what you want? I mean, now, at this time?" I reached down and wrapped my fingers around his own thick hard cock. "I need you more than ever, now," I assured him. I felt his dick jump when he heard my words. "I do want you, Steve," he said. "I just don't want to take advantage of you in this situation." I pressed hard into his body, my cock grinding into his. "It's the other way around. I'm the one who is taking advantage of you because, right now, I have never needed you more. I have to feel your cock inside me." I reached over and pulled a bottle of lube out of the drawer. "Here," I said handing it to him. I watched as he squeezed some out into the palm of his hand. I spread my legs wide so he could reach in and grease my ass up. I shivered when I felt him work a slippery finger inside my hole. "That's right, Dad, grease my ass so your thick hard cock can crawl inside." When he decided he had enough in me, he squeezed more out and began coating it heavily on his dick. I raised my legs up and said, "Fuck me, Dad." With no more words between us, I felt my father press the tip of his dick next to my opening. He paused for a second, took a deep breath, and then with a force, pushed himself the rest of the way inside me. I could feel the thick brown hair that grew around his cock scratch me and rub against my skin. God, I loved the feel of those wiry curls tickling me. Dad began fucking me hard, starting with the first thrust. I met each movement, loving, needing the touch of his hard cock. It didn't take me long to have him moaning like crazy. "Shit, Steve, you're going to make me cum," he warned. "Fill me, Dad," I cried. "I need your cum so fucking bad." I felt his dick swell up, lavished the feeling I felt when the first wave of hot spunk coated the insides of my ass. I screamed out, "Yes! Oh, fuck!" When it was over, with his dick still planted deeply inside my cum-filled hole, Dad leaned down and kissed me on the lips. "I will always be here for you, Steve," he said. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him hard against my sweaty body. "I am so glad you are," I whispered quietly. Soon he pulled out of me, and suddenly I felt hollow inside. He fell down between my legs and started sucking my dick. With the ass pounding he had just given me, it didn't take long for me to fill the inside of his mouth with my thick hot load. Each shot I sent inside him he swallowed and didn't lose a drop. When I was done unloading, he pulled off and gave me a grin. "You should feel better after all that," he said. I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair. "Much," I assured him. Later after we had showered we sat in my living room for a time. Neither of us was anxious to leave just yet, and we were enjoying the time we had left. Dad looked at me and said, "Steve, your mother and I have been talking some things over. I have something to run by you." "I'm listening." "I don't think you should do anything yet; make any changes. At least for a few months," he added. I didn't speak, so he continued with his talk. "What would you think about closing your house up for a few months? You and Brandon could stay with us. At least until you see how things go from this end," he added. "Are you sure? It's not fair to Mom to have two more people around to care for." "I'm not going to be the one to tell her that." I looked around the room taking everything in with my eyes. This had been our home for the past five years. Each room was filled with so many memories. And most of them were good memories. "It might do us good to have a change," I finally said. "Why don't you talk it over with Brandon, see what he says, and we'll go from there?" he suggested. We went home a short time later. Brandon was up in my old room reading a book. I closed the door and walked over to the bed. Sitting down, I said, "Hey, Bud, I've got something to discuss with you." My son put his book down and focused his attention on my face. When I had finished talking, he said with a shrug, "I think I would like staying here; at least for a while." And so the next day being Saturday, we went back home and spent the remainder of the weekend packing what we wanted to take with us. By Sunday evening we had merged our home with that of my parents. End Part 8-Next Generation