Date: Wed, 22 Oct 2008 05:03:36 -0700 (PDT) From: tague michaels Subject: Instructing My Son A story about a man and his preteen son, it contains some scenes of sex between man and boy. If you shouldn't be here, go now or suffer the logical consequences. Hugs, Tag_m "Okay, stand straight, arms relaxed at your side," I said to the fourteen year old hottie whose feet I was at. I held a measuring tape at his ankle then up against the bottom of the bulge in his white cotton briefs, pushing slightly while I took my time measuring his inseam. The boy giggled a little at the intrusion but didn't say anything as I bumped up against his boy stuff a couple of times, and what respectable boy stuff it appeared to be. Then I measured his waist, reveling in the fact I was eye level with a terrific belly as well as face to face with his boyhood bulge and that seemed to be moving slightly. I quickly finished since the boy's mother was waiting for him and left the fitting room so he could dress. I loved boys. It's a big part of the reason why I stayed in type of job I was in. I'd started as a clerk in the men's department of a large department store. It was a fairly easy way to help with college and worked my way up to manager of a more exclusive men and boy's store, dropping out of college in the process. In any case I loved boys and I thought that they were about the coolest thing on the planet. I loved everything about them, how they looked, acted, talked, rough housed, smelled, felt. Hell, what else can I say? Because of my job I'd seen plenty of boys in various stages of undress, often clad only in underwear, as well as fully naked and that more frequently that one might guess. I'd had the good fortune to actually engage in masturbation or oral sex with a boy every now and again. Sometimes it was helping a boy unload his young sperm out onto the floor of my fitting room or pumping that young sperm into my mouth. More than a few times it was done in front of a full length mirror so the boy and I could both watch what was happening to him. Despite my love of boys, at no time did I ever think of, or have the desire to have any kind of, sexual contact with my own son. In fact until we moved I hadn't seen London naked for two, maybe three years, the boy having been able to take his baths by himself for far longer than that. But it was time to step him up to a shower. Twelve years old was the age that my wife had decreed was an appropriate and safe age for a child to shower alone. She came to that decision after the ten year old daughter of a friend of hers had slipped in the shower, fallen through the shower curtain and smashed her head against the sink and eventually died. It had been a freak accident but no way was Caroline, London's mother and my wife, going to take that chance with our boy. But my wife was no longer there to enforce that rule and besides I no longer used the old, slippery surfaced, claw footed tub that had graced the bathroom in renovated loft that we'd lived in. When Caroline had gotten her new job we had upped our life insurance policies to almost half a million dollars. We had also taken out AD&D since it was practical, only pennies per month, so we each had an additional two hundred thou on our measly little lives. Caroline had accepted a new position as a vice principal at an elementary school that was located in a less than stellar neighborhood. The insurance was only a precaution she'd said. Turned out it was a very good precaution as she'd been gunned down along with two other people in a drive by as she walked from the bus stop, her car was in the shop, to the school one morning two days before Spring break and just about a year to the day after she'd started. Of course no one was ever caught. I was saddened by the loss of my wife but not grief stricken. Caroline had issues, some very deep ones left over from a not very pleasant childhood. Among other things she had been very controlling, our son's restriction from the shower only a small example and anal retentive nature that even she found oppressive at times. She had also put on a great deal of weight in the four years prior to her death and had ballooned up to slightly over three hundred pounds almost twice her weight when we had married. She wasn't pleasant to be around, she wasn't pleasant to look at and frankly I had been considering leaving her but couldn't be assured that I'd get custody of London. As I said, I loved boys and I adored my son. London was a great kid, the light of my life. He had a fairly laid back personality which he got from me, a good sense of humor for a child, his mother's intelligence. His almost beautiful looks were a combination from the both of us, his mother being a rather pretty woman before she metamorphosised into a blimp. I still maintained the weight I was when I was in college, perfect for my five foot eight frame, and my face and complexion remained that of a young man ten years younger than me. London seemed to have the same feelings that I had over his mother's death. He was saddened, especially by the violence of her passing, but he wasn't grief stricken by any means. The year before she was killed had been difficult for him as she'd been on his ass quite a bit and little I did seemed to curb what seemed to be a bitterness that Caroline harbored against life. Fortunately her behavior hadn't stifled my son's personality, only made it go underground when his mother had been around. At almost eleven years and twenty nine years old respectively London and I were buddies, pals and confidantes. Maybe that had been part of the problem, the fact that my son and I had always been close whereas the closeness that he and his mother had shared when he was small had deteriorated, encouraging his and my relationship to become even closer. London had never cared much for the loft that we'd called home for his entire life. It never seemed to be real warm, it was rather dark and gloomy and his room wasn't much larger than a walk-in closet. Caroline and I had talked about selling it but those conversations were mostly one sided, my side. She'd loved the place and couldn't see, or refused to, that with London growing up it wasn't practical anymore. Within 48 hours of her death I put the place up for sale at almost three times what she'd paid for it prior to our getting married. I was very fortunate when I unloaded the condo in that I had four or five parties vying for it so it ended up selling in less than a week for just about 18% more that I'd listed it for. Despite the fact that I hadn't cared much for it, Caroline's purchase of the condo had been a very smart move. A newly renovated building in an up and coming restored part of town it was now in a very desirable building at the center of the most desirable area in the city. We, I, did very well on the turnover. The insurance companies of course dragged their heels, especially the one holding the AD&D policy. In any case, the day the condo sold I started looking for another place but not to buy, only to rent. The goal was to wait until all of my funds were clear; the house, the insurance and my wife's retirement fund which netted another 38K or so. I was considering moving to another state, some place warmer all year round and where I could finish school and get my degree in retail management, a pursuit that had fallen by the wayside because her Masters degree had taken priority. London started sleeping with me the first night of his mother's death. It was as much for comfort and company as the fact that his room was small and rather dreary. There was some comfort for me as well for he would cuddle up with me in the night, something that his mother hadn't done for years and, honestly, hadn't encouraged. There was something very comforting in holding my son while he slept and more than once I felt tears well up in my eyes at the pride and wonder that I had of him. So, I found a small, two bedroom one bathroom house on a month to month lease. It had a nice little fenced yard in a quiet neighborhood about twenty minutes from work. London had to change schools but that didn't seem to pose a problem for him. He hadn't particularly liked the school he'd been in and since the new school was only five blocks away he wouldn't have to take a bus. I took a leave of absence from work to do all of the settling things; Caroline's estate, sale of the condo and moving into the new house and getting London adjusted to a new neighborhood and school. I had considered dumping most of the furniture but decided to wait until I'd decided where we were going to move. I had no truck and few friends I could count on to help so hired a moving company to do that job. Overall there was a couple of days lag between the move out and the move in so London and I stayed in a hotel which he thought was just about the best thing he'd ever gotten to do in his life. To top it off we were in DC. London was crazy over anthropology so I decided to take him to the Smithsonian since we had the time. It was there that things started to change, at the hotel that is and not the Smithsonian. On first seeing our room London was excited about the two queen sized beds. "Can I have my own bed dad?" he asked. The sound of his voice was like music to my ears; that sweet, pure, innocent sound of a preteen boy. "Of course you can son," I responded. He hugged me tightly and said thanks a bundle and we left for dinner. Before he crawled into bed he came over and stood in front of where I sitting at the end my bed. Dressed only in white cotton briefs I'd been admiring his body as he got ready for bed; undressing, nicely folding his jeans and t-shirt then going about turning down his bed covers and gathering his pillows all in one pile. London was probably normal for his age; a shade or two under five feet tall and maybe eighty five to ninety pounds. Like me he had a well balanced physic with all the creases and bulges in all the right places. That is, well defined. His body was seemed compact, flat from below his pecs to his hips where his pubic bone narrowed and curved into the red lined waistband of his underwear. A view of his backside revealed a slim boyish butt, the twin globes pushing away ever so slightly from his lower back. As I'd watched him I wondered about getting him some new underwear as the ones he was wearing seemed a little tighter than they should be. When he stood in front of me I couldn't help but notice that the bulge of his boyhood charms seemed a little large for his age. Remember, I'd seen plenty of boys in underwear over the past fourteen years although I hadn't seen that much of London in his underwear. Another one of his mother's directives had been that he not parade around the house scantily clad. Bathrobe, sport shorts, bathing suit; all were fine but not underwear. Go figure. I dropped that decree the first night he slept with me because he asked about it. London and I had discussions about it before but it was easier on both of us to let his mother have her way in the matter. "Can I just wear underwear sometimes when we're alone in the house dad?" I knew exactly what he was asking and by way of an answer had unsnapped my slacks and dropped them to the floor. "Absolutely." He had literally jumped for joy and immediately peeled his jeans off right there. After that it wasn't like he stripped his clothes off the second he came home but he didn't have to worry about it either. In fact we both became more lax in that regard. So he stood in front of me in the hotel room and said, "Are you gonna be sad if I don't sleep in your bed." I shook my head. "Of course not son," I answered and I wasn't lying about it. He moved in between my legs and leaned up against my upper body, his arms around my neck. "I love you dad," he whispered in my ear. I'd wrapped my arms around his body, one hand holding him and the other rubbing up and down his back, stopping at his underwear. I was acutely aware of his warmth and the softness of his skin. "I love you too London," I whispered back, kept holding him for a ten count then patted him on the butt and started to move away. He wouldn't let go but instead pushed his weight against me. He also lifted his leg and put his knee on the mattress right up next to my crotch and between the two movements I went backwards onto the mattress with London lying on top of me. His knee caught me lightly in the balls and I let out an "oomph." "I'm sorry dad did I hurt you in your balls?" my son asked, his entire body now flat against mine and our faces less than a foot apart. I could feel the bulge of his cock against mine, since I too was wearing briefs, and actually felt him push slightly more into me. I focused on London's smooth face; perfectly shaped lips, the slight pink in his cheeks, the hazel colored eyes that were sometimes green and ultra long lashes that framed what was this time a look of concern. His Flaxen hair was cut short, no more than two inches long over his entire head, and sometimes gave him a bit if an impish look. "No baby boy you didn't hurt me just caught me off guard," I responded. He answered me with "good" then laid his head on my shoulder. We stayed like that for a good minute or two, my one hand having moved to run my fingers through his thick but soft, fine hair while the other continued to travel up and down his back even venturing farther onto the glorious globes of his butt. Then I rolled him over so we were on our sides. London threw his top leg over mine and stayed in close, our crotches still touching each other. "Can I start taking showers dad?" He asked and I nodded my head. "Will you show me, right now; before I go to bed?" London had not seen me naked since he was five or six nor had I seen him naked for at least four years. I wondered what made him ask me to show him how it was done so I asked him. "I've never done it before. I want to make sure I'm doing it right." That seemed plausible enough, considering. I nodded my head. "Okay London, if you feel you need instructions I'd be glad to help." He smiled and kissed me on the lips, something that he'd done all his life." He rolled away from me and stood up, waited for me to stand then followed me into the bathroom. The bathroom was actually a suite of rooms. The sink area was the first part, the tub and separate shower in the middle and the toilet was in its own little room past the bathing area. The shower and the tub were separated by a wall that contained the plumbing. It was walled on two other sides, the side facing the room being open. The entire floor was tile and had a slight tilt into the shower itself so any water might escape the enclosure would run back into the shower area and down the drain. I reached in and got the water going then turned and pulled my briefs off. London stared for about two seconds, pulled his eyes away then shoved his underwear down to the floor and stood proudly before me. Clearly my son had started the pubertal process. His cock, pale and blue veined, had to be four and a half inches long and hung down whereas most boys his age had dicks that were still in the pointing stage. His balls had started to drop as well and already hung between pale smooth thighs, two marbles in a soft and slightly wrinkled sac. As much as I wanted to explore London's body I elected to step into the shower area and beckoned him to follow. "First rinse," I said and stepped backwards under the spray and wet my hair the reached behind and pulled my cheeks apart telling him that it was important to clean that area thoroughly. I then turned to face the shower head and had him stand along side me as I scooped water in a hand over hand motion just under my balls to drench my crotch. "Now you do it." I stepped back out of the way and allowed my son to go through his first ritual which I found kind of sweet in a way that I can't explain. I grabbed the shampoo bottle, scrubbed my own thick dark blonde hair then rinsed off. We were standing facing one another and although my eyes were mostly closed, they were open enough to see that London was looking at my crotch. I figured it was normal boy curiosity so took my time washing and rinsing to allow his curiosity to be somewhat slaked. I handed the bottle to London and stood back while he went through the process explaining that he needed to not move around too much with his eyes closed and to make sure he didn't get soap in his eyes and if he ever did he could put a hand on the wall for balance until he could see again. I took the opportunity to give his body a good glance over while he was in the rinsing process as well. I'm guessing that would be a normal father's curiosity and I was proud of how my boy was developing. Once he was done I went for the soap and realized there was only one bar so stepped out of the shower. I grabbed the paper wrapped bar that had been provided for the bathtub, peeled it open and stepped back into the shower. I started at the top and worked my way down, London following my moves. I gave my crotch a good soaping, explaining to London that it was important to get all the way back toward his butthole. "Why doesn't all that bouncing around hurt your balls Dad," he asked as he repeated the vigorous motion on his own body. I gave him my best explanation then moved to cleansing my asshole, reaching behind and hiking a leg up to get at it and explaining how important it was to make sure the area was soaped well. "Would you do that part for me dad, to make sure?" My son asked. I must have hesitated too long as I pondered that question so London added, "Please." I soaped my hand, had him stand with one foot on the sitting area at the back of the shower and got down on my knees behind him. I wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him steady then put my soaped hand to a butt cheek and slipped in between his legs. I hadn't touched a boy's butt hole for some time although like many boys I'd had my share of mutual exploratory sessions with other boys my age. I felt a tingling in my belly as I ran a finger back and forth across the tightly puckered muscle. I even went so far as to push forward and touch the underside of London's balls as I moved to and fro. "Gosh dad that feels good," he said softly as I cleaned him, probably taking a few more trips that absolutely necessary except that young boys tend to neglect that area and I wanted to reinforce the notion of cleaning it. Lord knows I'd seen plenty of evidence of that with boys in the course of my job and I really wanted my son to understand the need to do a complete job. I acknowledged to him that his butthole could be sensitive and stood up, directing him under the shower spray to rinse off. "I started to get a boner dad," he said as he turned and I looked down to see that indeed his not so little pecker had started to rise. "Well that's because it feels better when someone else touched you there son," I said by way of explanation. "It looks like you started to get one too dad," said, pointing toward my cock. Indeed my dick had moved upward about and inch, no more, but it was enough to be noticeable. "Why is that dad? Did it feel good to you too?" I explained that sometimes touching other people had that effect and of course wanted to know why. "Well, maybe it's because it feels good knowing that you're making someone else feel good," I told him Then he took a different tack. "You sure have a big one Dad. Will mine get that big when I grow up?" he asked as he pushed his butt out and rinsed off his butthole. I don't want to brag but in the interest of accuracy I was just a shy over eight inches. I had developed early, starting puberty about the same age as London, noticed my first pubes within days of my eleventh birthday. They had probably been there before but at that age I think most boys are still naive and don't notice or even care much about those subtle changes; balls dropping, penis growing and pubic moss. Once they do notice however it becomes all important. "Yes your penis, your testicles, your whole body is starting to grow and will keep growing for awhile. All of your boy stuff will peak by fourteen or fifteen and you'll reach your height by nineteen." He nodded his head in assent then said, "Do you want to check and make sure I rinsed the soap out good?" I decided to humor him and had him bend over and spread his cheeks, baring his tight little puckered hole to me for the first time. I told him he was okay and he stood up and face me, holding his balls up out of the way. "How about under here?" he asked. I got in close and checked him out. "All clear," I told him. "One of the great things about showering with someone else," I told him, "is getting your back scrubbed. I soaped my hands and had him turn around and washed his back for him, rubbing his growing muscles as I worked down to his butt. He almost purred. It wouldn't do but London had to wash my back as well and he seemed to want to take as much care as I did. Out of the shower, as we dried off, London asked when he would start getting hairs "down there." I explained that it would likely take place soon and may actually have already started which caused him to bend over to look down declaring that he didn't see any. "Here, let me look," told him and dropped to my knees. I pushed his penis down and looked close and it sure looked like there were a few very pale strands. I gently pulled his balls to the sides and looked him over carefully then lifted his penis up and checked out the wrinkled beginning of his sac. "Gosh it feels so good when you touch me there," he said, the feelings of being handle rushing through is body, especially his cock. I could feel him begin to harden in my fingers so let go. "I'm getting a boner again dad," he said and clearly he was. His cock was now pointing at me and didn't seem to inclined to stop until it reached its zenith. "Well," I reiterated, "like I said, that happens when you get touched, especially down there." Of course he wanted to know if that would happen to me if he touched me there. I explained that it would but it would probably take a lot more touching than it did for him because it was all so new to him. "Do we have to get dressed right away dad? Can we just stay naked for a little while?" I smiled and said that we could do whatever we wanted to. Besides, I did want to check him out a little closer in the light. Back the room I went to sit in an arm chair next to a floor lamp and called London to me. I turned him toward the light and got in as close as I had and again touched the base of his penis. "Well London it looks to me like you've started to get some fuzz here." Once again I lifted his little appendage, moved it from side to side then held it up out of the way while I inspected is balls. Needless to say my handling of him along with the warmth of my hand and fingers brought on the gallant reflex. I could see the beginnings of a few hairs on his sac but pretty much knew it would be some time before those little mitochondria like strands amounted to anything. I'd had a few hairs on my nuts too but they didn't start to get furry until I was mid-fourteen. "Jeez it's hard again dad," London said as though I wasn't looking right at his rigid boner. Unlike the other two times, this time it reach full on stiff and stood proudly at attention in front of his flat, firm pubic bone. "I see that son, pretty good size for a boy your age too." Indeed the rampant cocklet was pushing just under five inches and after so many years behind a measuring tape I could say that with certainty. I couldn't resist so squeezed it a few times which cause my son to sigh loudly and me to smile. I felt my own cock stir, not because it was my son but because it was a boy. "I would guess that you'll have some very visible hairs there in another few months London." I sat in the chair while London bent over, pushed his rock hard young cock down to inspect himself then stood up with a big shit eating grin on his smooth beautiful face. "I can see em dad, I can see the hairs growing." That being said he climbed up onto my lap and made himself comfortable while I adjusted my body to accommodate him. He was lying mostly on his back snuggled into one arm so needless to say his cock was right there. I let my other arm drape across his legs about knee level. I like any boy with a hard on London's hand went to his crotch to squeeze, fondle, poke, prod, push and pull at his cock mostly but also his balls which had started to shrink back up due to the temperature change. He giggled a little bit then said, "Your hairs are poking me in the butt." He didn't wait for a comment but went on. "How come my balls are getting smaller dad. My penis does that too sometimes. I don't mean hard or soft but sometimes it seems shorter." By that time his cock head was getting red from being so hard. I explained to him the whys and wherefores of why his body reacted the way it did. He accepted that and went on. "Does your dick get big and hard if someone touches it dad?" I told him it did. "Can I touch it, can I make your dick hard, I'd like to see it hard I bet it's huge." He'd already started to move his body in order to gain access to my cock, which at the moment was hanging lazily between my legs but already stirring at the dialog we were having as well as the position we were in and the fact that my son seemed totally unashamed or embarrassed about playing with himself in front of me.. "Well that probably isn't a good idea London." That prompted the typical response from him "Because I'm an adult and you're a child not to mention I'm your father." "So what dad, you touched me and I liked it. I bet you'd like it if I touched your dick." I explained that a boy or man's genitals were indeed sensitive to anyone's touch but doing that with boys close to his own age would be more appropriate. Besides sometimes a parent needs to touch their children like that. Like tonight I was showing him how to clean himself and inspecting his body in answer to his question about growing hair. "Well I think it's appropriate for us to touch each other and not with strangers," he informed me. "I think its okay because you're my dad and you're spose to teach me stuff." As I said before; yes I liked boys, no I hadn't looked at my son in those terms but the way the conversation was going I was started to see him in a different light. And he was at the age that I most loved boys; the beginning stages of puberty. Don't get me wrong, I loved all boys but the ages of eleven or twelve to fourteen were the hottest to me for a whole bunch of reasons that I'm not going to get into. Suffice it to say that London was entering, or had entered, that phase of his life and he seemed more than inclined to share that with me in fact it appeared that he wanted to. Even as I was telling London about the inappropriateness of sharing those things with him my mind was working out a way to actually do it without it seeming to be inappropriate, such as my instructing him in the shower. On my lap, my son continued to be focusing on his boyhood charms. He squeezed his rampant penis, pulled it down and let it snap back, pushed it into his body and let it bounce back up and repeating that gesture two or three times. I had to chuckle and London asked why. "Oh, just that you remind me of when I was your age doing what every boy does with his penis. It seems like you could spend hours playing with, pushing and pulling and snapping it about." He asked if I was serious and I told him I was, that every boy on the planet probably did stuff like that and even more which of course prompted him to ask what more stuff could a boy do. "Well those are things you'll discover as you get older son." Naturally his retort was why couldn't I show him since I was his father after all. He yawned hugely. "It's your job." "Well it's your job to get a good night's sleep," I said, sidestepping his arguments. He slid up off my lap but then crawled back in, this time facing me, kissed me on the lips and leaned his upper body into mine and hugged me whispering I love you in my ear. I held him, one hand high and the other low which prompted him to push into me a little harder. I was acutely aware of his rock hard cock pressing against my belly and reflexively put my hand on his slender little butt and held him a little tighter. I could feel my cock stir once more, this time a little faster than before. I loosened my hold on him and gently encouraged him to move away and as he stood up he looked down and saw my physical reaction, about a quarter mast or less. I wasn't sure but there may have been a little bit of a smile forming on his perfect lips. "Can I sleep without underwear dad?" I nodded my head. "You bet you can baby boy. London snuggled into his bed and was soon fast asleep. I turned the light off as soon as he went to bed but continued to fondle and nurse my cock into a full blown erection. I let my brain run over the events of the evening, trying to focus on the actions and not the fact that it was my son. I slowly stroked my cock, fondling my heavy sac and fantasized about London watching me and maybe even doing it with me, a father and son squeezing the weasel together, a real bonding experience. I hadn't had an orgasm for at least two weeks maybe longer so was more than ready to unload the pent up sperm. I groaned as my cock thickened and the first of seven volleys of thick gooey cum blasted out onto my chest and belly and in my mind's eye I could see the look of astonishment on London's face as he witnessed for the first time that which he would see and do a couple a thousand times in his lifetime. I half sat, half lay in the chair wondering if London's curiosity was going to take this anywhere, hoping on some level that it would. I finally cleaned up and went to bed. I woke up from a somewhat bizarre dream in the middle of the night to discover that London had climbed into my bed and was snuggled up to me and somehow in my sleep I had managed to get an arm around his neck and was holding him. I was on my back and he was up against my thigh with one leg thrown over one of mine, his knee resting against my balls. His arm was thrown across my belly, low enough that the head of my hard cock was pushing against his elbow. London had a middle of the night boner that was pressed up against my hip and I was sorely tempted to move just enough to fondle and stroke him, but I didn't. I woke about seven and discovered immediately that my son was awake as well. I was still on my back and London was gently feeling me up, squeezing gently up and down on my morning erection. He moved his hand down and cupped my nuts, hefted them as if feeling their weight then went back to feeling my cock. I thought about feigning sleep then slowly coming awake to give him time to remove his hand without me supposedly knowing what he'd been doing. Or I could simply "wake up" and catch him at it then go from there. I elected to go for the latter. I popped my eyes open and turned my head toward him. Although the room was darkened by the curtains I'd left the light on in the toilet area in the event that either of us had to get up to piss in the night. Subsequently there was a slight amount of light in the room and in this case enough that my son realized I was awake, that he'd been caught feeling me up. He jerked his hand away as though it he'd touched a hot iron. I rolled to my side and looked at him in the thin light; saw the expression of guilt and embarrassment on his smooth young face. "Look son," I started in my softest most caring voice. "It's normal for boys to be curious about stuff, especially sex and sexual organs. I rose up over him and turned on the small light between our beds then tossed the covers back exposing us both. Of course he was young boy hard. I stayed on my side propped up on an elbow looking at him. "I want you to go ahead and look all you want, touch if you want to, explore my body. Satisfy your curiosity son, its okay." I lay back and looked down at my cock standing proud and strong above my flat smooth belly. "It seems strange to do that while you're awake dad," he said, then finally looked at me. "Why? You said yourself last night that we're father and son and you felt that I should be teaching you stuff, remember." London hesitated then slid down on the bed and leaned close and took hold of my cock. The feeling of his small hand grasping me was incredible and I felt my dick change from piss mode to sexual mode. London felt up and down the length, got in close and examined the swollen head then moved to my balls and hefted them again. "Gosh your so big dad, I can't believe it," he said with a little awe in his high voice. "Everything is so big, I can't believe I'll ever get as big as you." My cock throbbed at the praise my young son was heaping on me. "Why is it hard in the morning dad? My dick seems to be like that every morning when I wake up. Sometimes it's annoying when it's like that, not like sometimes when it feels good." I chuckled and explained the male body to him and went on to say that he would notice that he got hard quite a bit more and not just at night and not because he was touching himself. I explained a little more about the maturation process and that he would have quite a bit of intense feeling for the next few years but eventually things would slow down a little bit. "Does it feel good when I touch you dad, like it does when you touch me." "It sure does son." "Well if it feels good then why can't we do it more often?" Fuck I love the logic of children. I reminded him of what I'd told him the night before and he responded by saying that if nobody else knew about it then so what. I thought for a moment then came to the same conclusion that London had, not that I needed a whole lot to arrive there. "Okay, well, how about let's just see okay?" He asked if I meant it, excitement in his voice and I nodded my head. Without another word he rolled over on top of me and adjusted his smaller body to mine. His put his arms around my neck and relaxed into me, our hard cocks not quite aligned but his on my lower belly and mine along the crease of his pubic bone. I put my arms around him, surprised at his move and rubbed him, not avoiding his tender little butt at all but going right for it. My hand on his butt seemed to encourage him to press his cock against me which in turn pressed mine against him. "That feels really good dad, when I push against you," he whispered and gave his hips a little more motion. "It makes me get a tingly feeling in my belly like Christmas or something." Yeah, well I knew the feeling. An innocent move on London's behalf had changed a more or less innocent action into a very charged sexual situation. In reaction I held his soft smooth body a little tighter, reveling in the warmth of him, the weight of his body on mine. I really wanted to cum, wanted him to keep moving his body against mine until I peaked and my sperm oozed out between our bodies. I was dying to show London the secret of life, dying to allow my son to take me there and eventually me taking him there. He raised his head, looked at me and kissed me on the lips. "This feels so good dad, I love it when you hold me. I love you," and he kissed me again. My hands kneaded his tender butt and one moved a little lower and touched the underside of his bag. London squirmed at my touch and ground his cock into my belly even farther. "That tickles dad," he said. I told him I knew that it would, that was why I did it, then rolled him off of me and onto our sides. "Let's take a shower and get started on our day, okay?" "I have to peer first," he said as we entered the bathroom area. "You can pee in the shower." He looked askance at me. "Why not," I said, "it's just going to go down the drain anyway besides I bet you leak out a little pee when you take your baths." He smiled and agreed with me. "Well I don't want to pee on you." "Why not? I mean, it's not like I WANT you to pee on me but on the other hand it's not going to hurt a thing. Urine is perfectly sterile, it has no germs what-so-ever," said. That being said I forced my pee up and held my dick down and pissed on London's legs and feet. He laughed, aimed his own dick and just started pissing, his stream arcing out of the much smaller tube and splattering my belly. "Oops I'm sorry dad I didn't mean to pee so high." He started to redirect his stream but so did I and began aiming at his stomach and his crotch. He laughed again and of course it became a pee war. Afterwards London declared that it had been fun then we went through the cleansing process and it wouldn't do but what London insisted that I check him out as he bent over and spread his cheeks for my inspection the faced me and lifted his growing boy stuff for me to have look there as well. Pronounced good, we got out and dried off. It was barely seven thirty when we finished and both of us were hungry so I ordered room service. We lounged around naked until the food showed up then I tossed on a bathrobe and London climbed under the bed covers, both of us returning to our previous state of nakedness after the delivery boy left. "It's kind of strange but fun eating without any clothes on isn't it dad?" London asked. I agreed that it was and told him that I preferred nudity to clothes but that his mother hadn't. That produced a sad look across his smooth young face but he didn't say anything and was soon back to his smiling effervescent self. Afterwards we got dressed and headed out to start our day which was filled with lots of ooh's and aah's and look at this and isn't that cool, all from London. I loved seeing my son excited about things and much of the time I shared his wonder at the displays we viewed. Back at the hotel room that night we lounged and watched TV, London electing to lay between my legs resting back against me, both of us in underwear. That was due in part to the fact that I have never in my life been able to keep a hotel room at a constant temperature. So there we reclined, my arms around London's waist and his arms on mine. It didn't take a whole long time before one of his hands found its way onto his crotch where it fumbled and poked until the front of his briefs tented out. I tried not to pay too much attention, focusing on whatever mindless stuff was on the tube but it soon became apparent that London wasn't watching television at all. I moved my head somewhat and whispered in his ear, "Feels good doesn't it baby boy?" His whole body shivered for a moment in reaction to my breath in his ear, something that I'd sort of hoped for. As I said, I'd never ever considered being sexual in way with my son but things were moving in that direction and it felt like I was being led there.mostly. "Yeah," he responded in a more husky voice. "Sometimes I can't help it dad, I just have to touch myself. Once it gets hard it seems like I have to touch it even more." That being said he squeezed his rock hard cock tightly and I swear he moaned very softly. "Can I take my underwear off dad?" As if I would say no. "Of course you can son, you don't have to ask." He lifted his butt and quickly got rid of his briefs then lay back in my arms and resumed playing with himself. He held his hard cock upright, pushing at the base, then squeezed up and down its length. He wrapped a hand around the swollen head and squeezed it tightly then let go and watched it swell back up then wrapped his hand around his cock and his balls. "Gosh that feels so good dad." He said. I felt myself start to get hard as I watched my son explore his preteen body. "You want to feel it dad? You want to see how hard my dick is?" "If you want me to London, I will." "I do dad." I slowly let my hand move down his flat belly until it was stopped by the base of his cock then wrapped my fingers around him and gripped my son's boyhood pride and joy for the first time. London's entire body went stiff for a second and he moaned out loud then relaxed into me again, his breath having picked up speed. I lowered my hand and cupped his balls then gently squeezed and tugged at his smooth sac earning myself yet another moan of pleasure. "Oh man dad it feels so much better when you touch me," London stated after I retrieved my hand. I told him I understood completely. "Are you getting a boner too dad? It feels like it." he then leaned forward and reached back between us, found my cock and squeezed it. "You do have a boner dad." He turned around to face me. "Can I see it? Please dad, can I see your dick?" It was my turn to lift my butt up off the bed. London moved to give me room as I tugged my briefs down, relieving my dick of the pressure of having been cooped up in a confined spot, then slid them down and off. "My gosh dad it seems bigger than it was this morning," he commented as he tossed one leg over mine and sat on my thigh with his legs curled back beneath his upper legs. He all but stared for a few minutes then reached out and grasped onto me. I felt my body tingle as my son felt me, reveling in the touch of a boy again. It had probably been five years or more since my last time I'd had such an encounter with a boy. Terrin had been thirteen at the time. I'd fitted him for a suit at the shop then delivered it to his house, a large home in an affluent neighborhood, for his fitting. It was mid afternoon, his parents were out of the country and the maid had been out on afternoon errands. We had gone up to his room where he immediately shed everything down to his bikini style briefs, an unusual undergarment for a boy his age and at that time, the late 1970's. Clearly the boy had spent time in Europe. So there he was in all of his boyhood glory, his boyhood glory barely covered and the lack of an undershirt only making everything seem more prominent. Terrin had seemed rather well endowed for his age when I'd first measured him, especially when he'd gotten hard, his cock pushing against the front of his underwear. He hadn't seemed embarrassed in the least and had even cupped himself more than once while we went through the measurement process. "Does this happen to boys a lot when you measure them Mr. Carter?" he'd asked in a still somewhat high pitched boy's voice. I told him it happened all the time, that it was no big deal. So there in the middle of his large bedroom the boy stepped into the slacks, hooked and zipped them. I was kneeling in front of the boy and slipped my fingers into the waist band of the pants, my fingers warmed by the heat of his body. I had him turn around and patted his terrific little butt. "How does it feel back here?" "You mean the pants or when you pat me?" he asked with a clear tone of coyness in his voice. "You tell me," I countered. "It feels good." He paused then said, "And they fit well too." I turned him around. "How does it feel in the crotch?" I asked. "It feels a little tight to me, what do you think?" I put my hand on the front of the slacks and pressed, immediately detecting that he'd gotten hard. "Well I wonder if it would fit better if this," and I squeezed gently on his cock, "wasn't awake." I looked up at him so see him smiling down at me. "Probably," he said. I took the liberty of undressing him, sliding the slacks to the ground. Terrin put his hands on my shoulders and stepped out of them and stood up. My face was directly in line with his groin and the fact that he was rock hard was painfully apparent, the tube of his cock stretching up toward his right hip. "That looks a little uncomfortable Terrin." "It is Mr. Carter. Would you be embarrassed if I took them off?" "Not at all. Would you like me to help?" "Would you." he stated rather than asked. I reached up and hooked my fingers in the waistband of the deep green garment, pulled outward so as not to snag him and pulled down. His boyhood sprang to attention, standing proud and strong in front of his slender body. I slipped the underwear to the floor and he stepped out of them. "You are a pretty big boy Terrin," I said, staring at easily seven inches of fully erect boy cock. The tiny patch of moss at the base was sandy colored and sparse enough that skin showed through very easily. Below that his sperm makers hung freely in a soft smooth sac. "Thank you. I bet you're pretty big too aren't you Mr. Carter?" I shrugged my shoulders. "May I see please?" he asked. I asked about the maid and he assured me that she would be gone for two hours at least. I stood up and removed my jacket, my slacks and started on my shirt. Terrin all but stared at my crotch, slowly feeling and stroking his boy boner. When I slipped my briefs to the floor he smiled. "I knew you would be big Mr. Carter," he said. "Can I touch it?" I nodded my head and the boy stepped up close and took hold of my cock and stroked me a few times. Close contact with boys, like this, had been fairly limited since I'd been a teenager. Sure I'd jacked off and even sucked a few boys but being naked with one and having him touch me was a distinct rarity. I loved it. "You can touch mine if you want," he said as he continued to explore my body. I didn't need to be asked twice and took his boy cock in my hand and squeezed it. "God that feels great Mr. Carter," he all but gasped. "Lets go lay on my bed." We lay down facing each other on his king sized bed and both immediately took hold of the other's cock. "Isn't that weird how our balls hang down like that?" he said, adding, "Yours are pretty big too." With that he cupped and fondled my sac. "Can I suck on you please?" I didn't need to be asked twice about that but nodded my head and rolled onto my back. The boy slid down the bed and draped himself about halfway across my body and took hold of my dick. He lowered his head and took me inside of his mouth and began bobbing his head. My size didn't seem to bother him and made me wonder how much experience he had. I reached over his hips and took hold of his cock and began stroking him as he did a credible job of giving me a long awaited blow job. Terrin kept it up for a good minute or two taking time out to lick my swollen head then going back to sucking me. "My mouth gets sore, especially on one so big," he said with a smile. "Do you want to suck on me?" in answer I pushed him on his back, draped over his body like he'd done to me and took hold of his raging boner. I loved the feel of a boy in my hand, the warmth, the firmness yet softness of skin. I lowered my head and took him into my mouth and throat, managing an easy half of his length before backing off. "Oh shit," he gasped. I cupped his smooth nuts and gently pulled on them then allowed a finger to trail down to the beginning of his crack. Terrin placed his feet flat on the bed and spread his legs a little further then reached down with his free hand and pulled his slender little butt cheek open. I got the hint and continued down until I touched his puckered hole and got yet another gasp. "I want to suck on your cock again Mr. Carter," he said so I moved into a side by side sixty nine and felt the warmth of his mouth on my cock at the same time I took him into mine. I was surprised at the depth of Terrin's enthusiasm and was wondering how far he'd be willing to go. I was sure that he would be more than open to stuffing his thirteen year old cock up my ass. What I really wanted was to fuck him, to have him on his back with his knees up against his shoulders as I drove eight plus inches of man cock into his slender little body until I filled his ass with cream. Apparently Terrin and I were on the same wave length. "Damn Mr. Carter, I think I want you to fuck me," he said after rolling away from me. I looked into his eyes, the deep blue orbs barely visible through the slits. The boy was in a fog of hotness the likes of which I hadn't seen for some time. "Have you ever been fucked Terrin?" He shook his head "No, but I want you to fix that for me?" I didn't have to ask if the boy was sure, I could easily tell that he meant every word of what he was saying. After spending three or four minutes finger fucking the boy to a point of orgasm I lubed my dick with intensive care lotion - the jack off grease of choice for boys I understand - and had him pull his legs back, knees to his shoulders. I guided my swollen head to his puckered hole and pushed, the third time I slipped inside. "Ooooow fuck," he cried out so I didn't move and told him to relax his butthole and to breathe. He did as I asked, losing his boner in the process, but eventually told me to go ahead, "Slowly." I kept my eyes on my dick, getting a huge visual stimulation as well as physical. It was hot as hell to watch my cock disappear inside his virgin body and the tightness on my dick was beyond anything I'd felt in a long time and considering that it had been some time since I'd fucked a boy I thought for a moment that it might well have been worth the wait. I continued moving until my fuzz touched his skin and my balls rested against him. I asked how he was doing and he replied, "I'm fine. Are you going to fuck me now? I'm ready." I decided that an answer wasn't necessary and began to pull out of the boy, stopped about half way and moved back inside of him. I managed a dozen strokes then leaned forward and put my hands on the bed along side of him so that I was then driving down into him. I picked up a faster rhythm and began pulling farther out of Terrin's tight little asshole before plunging back inside. It didn't take long before the boy's breathing became faster and the grunts, groans, and moans became louder. He had put his hands on my shoulder and every once in awhile his fingers would grip my flesh, not painfully however. I felt myself getting close to cumming, picked up speed. Terrin must have sensed something was up because he asked me if I was cumming. "Not yet but almost," I told him. One of his hands left my shoulder and snaked in between us and from the motion I figured that he was jacking off. About a minute later Terrin let out a moan and I felt his asshole constrict against my dick. Well, you know that took me right over the edge right along with him and I began pumping jet after jet of thick, pent up sperm into the boy's bowels. I continued to drive into him but slowed down, moved my ass in circles and sideways before resuming the normal pumping action. Below me Terrin continued to groan and moan but his arm action had slowed down as well. We both finally stopped about the same time and just lay there panting like racehorses. I opened my eyes and looked down on the boy who had a rather beatific expression on his smooth young face. He finally opened his eyes, looked at me, and smiled in a lazy sort of way, then raised his head and kissed me on the lips. "That was fucking awesome Mr. Carter. I've been waiting for that since you first fitted me in your shop and I was hoping even then that we'd do something together." I told him to hold on then managed to get us into a sitting position with Terrin on my lap, impaled by eight inches of cock. He wrapped his arms around my neck, kissed me a few more times then lay his head on my shoulder. I held him, rubbed his back and just reveled in the feel of his body melded into mine. I'd have loved to have stayed there but of course that was impossible. I'd also hoped that I'd be able to spend time with Terrin in the future, wanted to feel his boyhood deep inside my ass, but of course that wasn't possible either. We separated and both took a quick shower. Fortunately my hair was fairly short and dried quickly for no sooner had we dressed that the maid knocked on Terrin's door to let him know that she was back home. He told her he was trying on his suit and would be out in a minute, quickly donned the garment along with a shirt then went to find her for her approval. I left the house to return to work. My son stroked me a few times, squeezed my cock, then used his other hand to cup and fondle my balls. I felt my body tingle at the familiar feelings of a boy's touch. "You know London, if you keep doing that, moving your hand on my dick like you are, something really great will happen." Of course he wanted to know what that was so I told him to keep doing it and see. Needless to say, he did. Also needless to say, his hand got tired and he had to switch hands but I was really close and encouraged him to keep it up, that he would get a big surprise. "I'm almost there baby boy. Oh yeah, keep going, keep going, Oh God." My body stiffened and the incredible feelings of orgasm ripped through my body and I squirted; a long thick ropy strand of sperm that landed just below my left nipple. That was followed by five more jets that gradually diminished in volume and distance before my cock slid into oozing mode, thick globs of cum that slipped out then slid down over London's fingers. "What was that dad, and why are you breathing so hard? He stopped stroking me so I took over and continued a slow stroke, my cock needing a firm grip for just a little while longer. "That's sperm son, the stuff that boys produce to make babies. You can't actually see the sperm because their so tiny, in fact there are over a million of them in the white stuff which is called semen. It's made mostly in the balls, the sperm that is, while the semen is produced by other glands then the two get mixed and come out just like you saw. I'm breathing hard because it's exciting to make it come out and the feelings are the best you'll ever feel. What we just did is called masturbation but most guys call it jacking off, or beating off or any number of other names." "Oh boy dad, can I do it, can I make the sperm stuff?" I explained that he was most likely to young to produce sperm or any liquid but that he was growing up pretty fast so it probably wouldn't be very long before it actually happened. "What would happen if I just jacked off, anything?" "Well at the very least it would feel pretty good." "Will you do it for me dad, will you jack me off?" My boy was pretty excited at the idea and I have to say that I was too. I had him get a hand towel from the bathroom and cleaned myself off then had him lay next to me. I was dying to suck his cock but I was also pretty nervous about it. Had I jacked him off before I came it might have been different but as any male knows, one's ardor tends to wane after cumming and often time's one's thinking becomes a little more clear. I took hold of London's cock with thumb and fingers and began the process. I then moved to a kneeling position between his legs so that I could play with his balls while I jacked his cock. Of course he started breathing faster, moaning softly. Amazingly enough, I didn't know that preteen boys actually experienced a dry orgasm. I was thirteen, had hairs for almost a year before I'd first jacked off and discovered the wonderful world of sperming. I'd never been with a preteen boy in my life so when London said that it was starting to tickle in his dick I was a little surprised. "Gosh dad, stop, it tickles." Well I didn't stop and seconds later my almost eleven year old son experienced his first orgasm. He started humping his hips upward into my fingers then practically screamed as his little cocklet thickened in against my fingers. His whole body went stiff for a second, his hands clawed at the bed sheets and his moaning got much louder. I was watching very closely but didn't see any evidence what so ever of cum, not even a droplet. London relaxed back onto the bed, breathing heavily, and I slowed my stroke to keep the feelings alive for a little longer. I finally stopped and moved along side London who still had his eyes closed. When he finally opened them he looked at me, smiled, then rolled into my arms and began kissing my lips and cheek, then my lips again. "Jeez dad that was the most awesomest thing in the whole wide world. You're right, the feelings are the best thing I ever felt. Is it better when the sperm starts coming out? I can't believe how much it tickles, I wanted you to stop but I'm glad you didn't." He then kissed me again, keeping his lips against mine for a good four count. I held him to me and rubbed his body, loving the feeling of having him in my arms our hard cocks pressing against each other. "I'm glad you liked it son." Was about all I could say. London wanted to know if we could do it again and I explained that the body needed time to rest a little bit first. London's hand had slipped down and was fondling my cock and my balls so I did the same to him. I knew then that I was going to be willing to take this all the way, or at least as far as London wanted to go and I somehow I knew that meant that I would eventually fuck my son. My cock throbbed at the thought.