Date: Tue, 9 Feb 2016 11:56:51 +0000 (UTC) From: Julian Otero Subject: When He Was Six When He Was Six Note: A short time ago I posted six story fragments and asked readers to pick one or several that I should develop fully. You can see the six here: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/a-half-dozen Almost all who replied included this one about a young father and his very young son. Let me know if you like this first part and whether I should continue. I will appreciate your comments and will reply. Julian: ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com And most of all: Please make a contribution to nifty so this great archive may continue. Donate: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html I first had sex with my son when he was six. That night his mother was working late and it fell to me to get him in the bath before bed. We were both in a playful mood and I decided to get in the warm water with him. Of course his eyes went right to my cock and stayed there even as we talked of games and school and t.v. I glanced down and through the cloudy water saw his little hard cock up like a soldier. I was twenty eight and he was my first. I loved him completely and was proud of his joy at life and skill and personality, and now I realized as I looked between his legs, proud of his body. He was beautifully proportioned and had a cute and impish face. He saw where my eyes had rested and said of his dick "it gets hard sometimes." My cock had started to grow and I spread my legs wider, I guess because I wanted him to see what I had and what he could look forward to. He had seen me naked just about everyday but not erect like this. My seven inches rose up above the water about a third of its length. "Wow, Dad!" exclaimed Luc, not hiding his surprise and big smile, "its so big!!" This undisguised admiration from my first born thrilled me down to my balls creating a dull ache and a familiar need to cum. Then, what happened next almost did make me cum. Luc reached with his little warm hand and wrapped it around my dick head. I can't easily describe the thrill that ran through me at his innocent touch. I closed my eyes for a few moments then opened them to his dancing eyes and smile. Right then I made an instant calculation that led to the beginning of sexual love for my son. Tell him "no" and make him feel ashamed or remain silent and say nothing? Someone said silence is golden. As Luc continued to stare openly without shame his expression changed from surprise to some sort of understanding. I could almost read his thoughts: "Dad's penis gets hard—like mine does! Wow!!" It was a bonding moment. My boy kept his hand there for what seemed like the longest time. He looked up into my eyes with such a beautiful innocent expression of joy. He could sense I liked what was happening. "Penis...they call it, in class. Girls have vaginas. You put a penis in a vagina to make a baby," he informed me in all seriousness, along with a boyish giggle he couldn't suppress. "Yes, Luc. That's just how I made you!" We both smiled. "Did the stuff come out? You know, sperms? Miss Jacobs says it's called sperm." "Sure did...a lot." Saying this, I felt more gathering pressure at the base of my cock. I felt I might spurt if he didn't soon let go. "It's white." I confirmed that with a nod. "At school they make it come out in the boys room." "You saw?" "No, but everybody says so. The boys in 7th and 8th grade mostly do it. Know what else?" Luc asked with mounting excitement. "What?" "One boy in 6th grade sucked on an 8th grade boy's cock!" "You call it `cock'—not `penis?'" "Dad, everybody does." He released his grip on me to scratch an itch on his nose. That was my cue to end this little episode, but not before I had him stand to be washed top to toes, paying particular gentle attention to his penis (now known as cock!) and his little pink asshole. "Mommy doesn't do that," Luc declared as my soapy probing finger massaged his anus, stilling his breathing. "What does Mommy do?" "She just washes on my...pe... cock, and it gets all hard..." Then, proudly, he informs: "She says how pretty it is!" "Yes it is Luc... It's... beautiful." The catch in my voice when I said this made Luc look up. That's as far as things went that first night. Truth is, that's as far as I permitted things to go. Luc, I sensed, was curious and ready to go on with more play. His shinning and bright eyes told me that. A day or two later in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner, often a good time to bring up new topics, my wife Carol casually mentioned what Luc had told her about the bath episode. "Luc told me when you gave him his bath the other night he saw your penis, hard. He said it was big." She sounded curious, not alarmed. I recounted the whole story for her, leaving out nothing. Carol is beautiful and sex between us has always been good—in fact, great: we shared similar attitudes about the subject and tried lots of things. "You know, I don't think he's too young to know...to see...you like that. I felt my cock stir and push up. "He said he touched it... Just, we have to be careful, very careful, he doesn't go blabbing in school." I embraced her, pushed my groin against hers, mumbled "of course," in her warm ear. She grabbed my ass, her cunt mashed up against me. We left the dishes unfinished while in the bedroom we had the hottest, most vigorous sex we experienced in awhile. Something was happening I was sure. It was busier than usual at work the following week but in quiet moments the play with my son, and the sex with my young wife afterward, popped into my consciousness bringing on a wave a pleasure. I wasn't sure if what Luc did could actually qualify as sex but it was a start and it seemed I had nothing to fear from my wife. Carol was intrigued, interested, maybe yes, even turned on by it. That pleased me and kept me hot. I didn't know if another bath with Luc would happen, or happen in the same way, yet I did catch myself hoping she's soon have to work late again. Several times I rubbed off a cum thinking of Luc, his young firm body and shining cute face, his lips, the little hard proud cock and the feel of his asshole on my fingers. Such thoughts could lead to trouble I knew, but much as I tried to suppress them the more vivid and insistent the were. Several weeks later, when Carol again needed to work late, I was ready to admit to myself desire for my son, for my need to play with him again. end part one Let me know if you like this first part and whether I should continue. I will appreciate your comments and will reply. Julian: ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com Regards, Julian Otero