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Conner went downstairs to his room, his wife in bed, and hopped into the master bathroom. His little rod was sticking straight up as he stripped down. Under the hot running water he stroked his cock. The image of his son’s exposed rod was the only thing in his mind. The soft down of his first golden red pubes around his thin little rod, the healthy slackness of his boy’s hood, even the curve of his boy rod spoke to half forgotten memories of his own developing body. His son’s little rod was so stiff it looked almost painful. The chaffing, something he’d done to himself in the throws of boyhood hormonal urges, was even a sort of turn on. Evidence of the roiling need brewing in his tight family jewels, the lust and satisfaction his boy had been feeling all day. The light stains of his loads and musky scent of his blossoming boyhood had Conner dizzy, and the thought of burying his face in that scent had him releasing his load down the drain.

He crawled into bed happy, what he would have given to have the assurances about his equipment from his dad he’d been able to give his boy, or the openness of getting advice when he beat off too much. He felt closer to his boy than he ever remembered. Knowing they shared more than he ever expected, perhaps more than he’d want. That special bond of two underequipped men, the camadire of having the same tool to work with.

It was a familiar dream, he was naked, at the shop. The guys didn’t seem to mind that he was naked, and hardly noticed when he got hard. He looked down at his tiny cock, and wanting to feel a mouth on it leaned over. He reached it with ease, engulfing his rod to the base, cock exploding with the memories of past BJs rendered in the framework of the dream.  When he shot though, though he’d had this dream many times before something new happened. He felt his load pouring out in his mouth. He pulled off his cock in surprise, saw his son’s tiny little rod had been the one shooting in his mouth, and awoke as he looked down to see his son sucking his cock clean.

Conner stumbled to the toilet and gagged into the basin for a bit, he felt horrible about the dream, disgusted that the thought of doing that with his boy rattled around somewhere in his mind. The wet spot in his briefs spoke to how thoroughly it turned him on though.

It was a good while before he was able to get back to sleep.

The next day at the shop he was hit with a wave of confusing thoughts as he stepped in. Just here, between the cars and the other mechanics, he’d sixty nined with his own son. Even if just in his dreams. He felt his briefs tightening and got back to work. But the thought wouldn’t leave his mind.

A week after the dream, as the guilt of it finally faded, Conner saw his wife off for a work trip. He heated up a dinner she’d prepped for them and ate dinner with his son, their conversation ostensibly normal. They settled in to watch the TV together, sprawled out on the couch, legs touching. For a good while Conner’s eyes laid more on his son than the TV show. He admired his boyish bulk, an impressive amount of muscle for a boy his age that made him swell with pride, and the light padding of baby fat that wouldn’t seem to fade. He’d be a bull with a boy cock just like his father. Seeing his features on his boy gave him a strange confidence with his own appearance. His hair, which was lauded as often as teased, seemed all the more beautiful being shared with his son. And his cock, it’s diminutive size which he’d long since come to terms with, was now a point of pride knowing it was a condition shared with his boy.

The second day after his wife left he made a purchase on the way home. He gave it to his boy when he came in to say goodnight.

“I’ve got something for you buddy.”

“A present?” Benji asked excitedly.

“Kind of,” He pulled a bottle out of his back pocket, “It’s lube. So when you tug off you don’t get a friction burn again.”

“How do I use it?”

“Just put it on your wiener before you do your thing, you’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks dad.”

“No problem. Your wiener feeling better?”

“Yes dad.” Benji blushed.

“I’ll leave you to it. Have fun.” Conner steps out of the room, not quite closing the door behind him. Heart starting to race he looks back into his son’s room.

Benji slips his boxers down to his ankles, upends the bottle on his rod- already sticking up stiff, pouring far too much of the slick liquid on his cock. His hand slides over his slick piece and he lets out an audible gasp, grabs his rod with his thumb and index finger little strokes up and down instead of his usual tugging motion.

Conner leans heavily against the wall. Heart pounding, cock swollen, lips numb. He wants to grab his rod but desires more to feel what he did before with his son and lets his arms hang limply at his side.

Benji lets out a beautiful sound of pleasure, a yelp interrupted by a long, loud, boyish moan.

Conners cock twitches, drenches his briefs, and he slips to the floor.

Now, simply petting his slick boy rod with his open hand, Benji thrust against his palm, arches his back, and with a cascade of high “ah, ah, ah”s drenches himself in cum. He lays there for a few minutes, Conner assuming he’s drifted off into sleep. But as he reaches the stairs he hears his son moving to the upstairs restroom, the shower running. The boy washing away the mess of his pleasures.