Date: Sat, 11 Mar 2023 08:46:38 -0800 From: Chris Oreilly Subject: Micah: Origins Category suggestion: Adult Youth or Incest Codes: Mb, d/s, exhib, inc, nosex, ws, mast Micah Origins - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This series is a work of fiction. It involves stories of sexual contact between adults and young adolescents who are often below the age of consent in many jurisdictions. It also involves stories of incest. The author does not condone these practices in real life, as they are harmful to children. Obviously, if it is not legal for you to read stories like these in your jurisdiction, you should hit the back button now or close out your browser. If you are not a legal adult or below the age of eighteen, you should hit the back button now or close out your browser. If you find that you are exclusively attracted to younger adolescents, please seek professional help immediately so you do not end up acting on these fantasies. If you find that you are exclusively attracted to a family member that is closely related enough to qualify as incest, please seek professional help immediately so you do not end up acting on these fantasies. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - by The Terror the Faps in the Night My name is Micah. I'm 15 years old, and I am about 5'9" tall and weigh about 115 pounds. I have dirty blonde, curly hair that I am trying to grow out to shoulder length, green eyes, and a long slender face with soft curves rather than chiseled features. My skin is a light brown/olive complexion. I think I'm very good looking. I certainly catch a lot of guys -- not to mention young women -- glancing a long time in my direction and then doing the tell-tale averting of their eyes once I make eye contact. So I certainly think I am catching a lot of interest when I'm out and about. But I will be the first to admit that it's very difficult to judge our own appearance, and I'm a little self-conscious about how I look because I always wonder if maybe I'm not as good looking as I think I am. I have similar self-consciousness about my body: I'm about 95% sure that my body is really attractive, but I always have this lingering doubt that maybe other guys perceive me as too skinny or not muscular enough. I have kind of a twinkish build and am mostly smooth, but I'm not completely hairless because I have a little bit of a happy trail that leads up from my pubic hair to my belly button, and of course a little patch of hair under my arms and above my dick, which I keep closely trimmed. I don't really work out, so my muscles are a little bit underdeveloped. But still, I have a lot of tone to what muscles there are. My stomach is flat, but I don't have a six pack or anything. My ass -- well, I will get around to describing my ass and dick soon enough. I hope you bear with me as I tell my story. I promise you that it will get good soon enough. This first chapter will be more "erotic" than "hardcore" though, because I have to explain a few things so you can understand why my life has taken the turns it has. I lead a relatively eventful life, especially for one so young as me. But it won't make sense to you unless I tell you a little bit about my background. I will try to sprinkle in a few details to keep it "interesting", but this first chapter is, by necessity, a little less graphic than the rest of my story. When my parents met, my mother -- Beatriz -- was a stripper and my dad -- Nathaniel -- had just finished an architecture degree. His father was an architect as well, who owned his own firm. Once dad graduated, my grandfather took dad on as a partner in the firm -- McKenzie and Associates. Now, my grandparents were very religious. My grandfather was a High Priest in the Melchizedek priesthood in the Latter Day Saints, so it goes without saying that my grandparents were scandalized by my mother's occupation. She was Catholic, however, and both of her parents were back in Guatemala, so she did what she needed to do to earn money to send back home. My father wasn't religious at all, but once he found out that she was pregnant with me, he told her that he would support her to "keep up appearances" for my grandparents. Meanwhile, they dated on the downlow and dad would dote on me. Most nights he would sleep over with mom and me, but he maintained a separate residence on paper. Of course, what my grandparents actually wanted was a whole baseball team of grandkids, so this arrangement didn't really do much to placate them. It made things worse because, although most members of the LDS church have big families, my grandmother had had to have an emergency hysterectomy a couple years after dad was born. Since dad was an only child, all the pressures to produce a ton of grandchildren fell on him, so it wasn't long before my grandparents began pressuring my mom to convert and marry my dad. And eventually, she gave in to the pressure. I remember that my parents were married when I was six years old. But still, no other children came along. I don't think my parents were intentionally using birth control or anything. I just don't think they were having sex that often. My grandmother kept bringing up "grandkids" every chance she got, and mom's official story was that she was just doing her best but couldn't get pregnant. But I honestly don't think that they were having much sex at all for several reasons. First, my grandfather passed away when I was only 8 years old, and dad was working a lot as his firm was becoming more and more successful and he now had to take on all of the management duties in my grandfather's absence. But second, I think dad just wasn't very interested because he was in the closet. Mom had taken to her new religion and become very devout, but dad was still not very religious. Dad would accompany us to church only on very rare occasions, but mostly mom would take me to Church on Sundays and to youth gatherings during the week while dad would "work." I put "work" in quotation marks because I'm pretty sure he wasn't working all that time, but using his time to meet up with other guys. So, when I was twelve years old, mom caught dad cheating on her with one of his "clients". I wasn't old enough to be privy to the details at the time, but as I understand it mom was suspicious that he was cheating on her and hired a private detective. Of course, mom expected to be confronted with news that dad was cheating on her with another woman, which she may have been able to manage those feelings of betrayal. But when it came out that dad was cheating on her with other men, well, that was just too much for mom to handle and one night dad came home from work and mom kicked him out. The divorce went through amiably enough. They never needed to have the court intervene, and fashioned their own custody and alimony agreements. Since dad had the means, he was able to get a pretty good deal for me. I have to give dad his props here: whenever there was a sticking point on the custody agreement, dad always made sure to look out for my interests by buttering mom up with more money on her end. The final custody agreement is hundreds of pages long and covers practically every conceivable scenario. But the long and the short of it is that dad agreed to sign over their Riverside, CA home plus pay her $10,000 per month in combined alimony and child support until I turn 18, after which time he will pay her the equivalent of $6,000 per month in alimony for the rest of her life, even if she gets re-married. On paper, they had 50/50 custody of me, but in actual practice I lived with mom during the week and with dad on the weekends, until I turned fifteen, at which time I got to choose where I wanted to live and how often I wanted to visit the non-custodial parent. Now, mom wouldn't budge on two matters. The first is that I was to be raised in the LDS Church until I was fifteen, at which point I got to decide. So even when I would visit dad, I had to go to the Local LDS church (he would usually just drop me off and pick me up). But he did manage to write me in a fairly sizable allowance provided by him ($200 per week), and mom was not allowed to restrict my dietary choices. What this meant, for me anyway, was that I could buy Dr. Peppers and Coca Colas and mom couldn't stop me. So that made matters more manageable. But she also insisted that dad not "parade his lifestyle in front of me" until I was fifteen. That's kind of vague language, so the attorney was able to kind of paper it over by using very specific language. Technically, all dad was required to do when I was visiting was to avoid having specifically male overnight guests, but dad was worried that mom would accuse him of violating the terms of the agreement, so he pretty much kept a policy of silence about his love life or even if he was dating someone. He wouldn't even tell me about his sexual orientation until I practically dragged it out of him. More on that in a second. When mom kicked him out, dad moved to Rancho Mirage -- probably to be closer to the gay community, -- and bought a very large home with a huge back yard and a luxurious inground pool and hot tub. So I came to love it at dad's and I would make every excuse I could find to visit with him even during the week. The custody agreement gave me wide latitude to "vacation" with my either parent, so I usually chose to go visit him any time I had a break from school. My bonding with dad was cemented because I was going through puberty at the time. It was still in its early stages, so I was basically just masturbating, not really having sex with anyone. But once when I was still twelve (but almost thirteen), I produced my first ejaculation and I was very scared because I wasn't expecting that. So I did the absolute worst thing I could possibly do and I ran to tell mom. Now, for an ex-stripper, mom was very much a prude. So all I got was a lecture about how I shouldn't be playing with myself. Then she called dad and they had a long conversation. After about 45 minutes on the phone, my mother came to tell me that dad was going to pick me up very early on Friday and that he was going to discuss it with me, but that all I needed to know for now was don't touch my penis at all unless it's to clean it or use the restroom and that she was going to be checking on me from time to time to make sure I wasn't touching my penis. I was panicking all that week. Keep in mind, I still didn't know what had even happened. All I knew was that my body had done something weird. Possibly I was sick, and probably it was my fault. I was dreading Friday because I just knew that dad was going to lecture me and probably ground me. So when I saw his Tesla pull into my driveway that Friday afternoon, I walked out with my bags and this huge sense of trepidation. But all that went away as soon as I got in the car. He looked at me, gave me the biggest smile, then leaned over and hugged me. "You seem like you are scared of me, buddy. What's going on?" "I dunno," I lied. "You sure nothing is bothering you? If you want we can ..." "No, I'm ok," I cut him off. So we drove back to the Rancho Mirage house in silence, though he would play his Spotify and sing along. It was like nothing had changed, which was oddly comforting, but I still had all these worries about when the shoe was gonna drop. When we were about ten minutes away from the house, I turned the radio off and said, "Can we just get this over with?" "Get what over with?" he asked, seemingly genuinely puzzled. "Mom said you were going to talk to me about something." I told him. He looked over at me. His eyes seemed more amused than anything. "That? That's what's bothering you?" he asked me. I couldn't answer. I just gulped and nodded quietly. "Look," he told me with a little bit of annoyance in his voice, "your mother is just making something out of nothing. You didn't do anything wrong and you don't have anything to be ashamed of. It's nothing, buddy. Don't worry about it." Then he blasted the music again. I wish this was comforting to me, but I still didn't even know what had happened. I thought about trying to follow up with him, but just then we pulled into the driveway and then dad started getting dinner ready. Well, I say, "getting dinner ready" but really he just ordered a pizza. Then, while we were waiting for the delivery, he flipped on the t.v. and was trying to find a movie for us to watch together. The wait to find out what had happened to me was killing me, so I just interrupted him. "Dad, can you please just take this seriously? I need to know if I injured it or something." "It?" he asked quizzically, then the realization dawned on him. "Oh you mean it." So I finally got the sex talk. It was a fairly clinical presentation, but it wasn't impersonal. He told me all about what puberty was, what would happen to my body, why my dick was getting hard from time to time, how and why cum is produced, and he even told me a little bit about sexual orientation and how, sometimes, people use their genitals to pleasure others -- sometimes girls or sometimes boys, depending on which one you like. Meanwhile, he told me that everyone masturbates and I should feel free to do it, just that it would probably be wise to make sure that my mom never finds out that I do it because she will just "make it weird." He told me that the shower was a good place to do it, because I could easily wash the evidence away. I still had lots of questions, but the pizza came and then dad really wanted to watch a movie with me. It was kind of our weekly tradition, after all. So after dinner I changed into my pajamas and then we started watching the movie. But my mind was not really on the movie. Besides being inquisitive, I was also getting a little horny. I was a twelve year old kid after all. Even at this age, I was a little horndog, and all I could think about was wanting to show my dad my body, let him see my erection, even, maybe, let him see me masturbate and cum in front of him. But this just wasn't the right opportunity. Even if I had whipped my little three inch hard cock through the slit of my pajamas, dad's eyes were all on the movie, not on me. So while dad watched the Marvel movie, I mostly just schemed about how I could have a more interesting "talk" with my dad about sex. As I look back on it now, I don't think I wanted any sexual contact with him at that time, but I definitely wanted him to see me as a sexual being. But how? How could I go from him seeing me as his "little buddy" to showing some sexual interest in me? So I plotted and planned, while he chuckled at the movie. At one point he looked over at me. "Thor always has the best lines, huh?" I managed a weak smile, then he went back to the movie and I went back to plotting. By the time the final credits were rolling, my heart was racing a mile a minute. I wanted to be suave. But as it played out, I think it was more awkward and comical than anything. But nonetheless, I got what I wanted, which was my first real erotic experience with my father. I say "erotic" because it wasn't really explicitly sexual. And I don't think that that is what I wanted anyway. I was a long way away from even knowing that I am bisexual anyway, and even to the extent that I was aware that I found men sexually interesting, I hadn't really ever given much thought to what I found attractive in a man. My experience with sex, at this time, was limited to about two minutes with my right palm, followed by a release of tension. But I was aware that there was so much in the way of sexual experiences that I hadn't even thought of, and I wanted desperately to be aware of what those experiences are. I wanted information more than anything. It wasn't that my father is unattractive. He's a very good looking mid to late 30's man. It's just that, at this time in my life I just wanted a sexual mentor more than anything. And maybe just a touch of feeling what it is like to have someone see you as a sexual being and be attracted to you. But nothing more. As I look back on it, I see what I wanted, but I don't think much of this awareness was in my consciousness at the time. At the time, I just knew that I wanted my dad to see my naked body and I wanted him to see me erect and I wanted him to watch me cum. But how could I get there. When you're horny and inexperienced, the best laid plans of mice and men can easily go awry. So, while in my mind I had a well thought out plan, in actual practice I just ended up winging it. And honestly, a lot of the details are missing from my memory. My heart was racing with excitement and I was almost shaking with fear. I just remember dad standing up and turning towards me after the movie and asking me what I wanted to do before bed. I think he suggested ice cream. But all I said is, "I just want to talk." Now dad gave me this weird expression. He kind of raised his eyebrows up and scrunched his face. "Talk? You want to talk?" he asked. I just think it caught him off guard because I wasn't really much of a conversationalist at this age so he really wasn't expecting that kind of answer. But he adjusted well enough and quickly his tone came back around to a friendly, welcoming tone. "Ok. We can talk. What do you want to talk about?" I was like a deer in the headlights at this point. So I just acted. I pulled down the front of my pajamas exposing my tiny erection to him. "This!" I said, and I just stood there waiting for his reaction. The effect must have been comical. And for a while dad said nothing. I saw him pursing his lips and squinting his eyes, as if he was suppressing a laugh. It seemed like minutes passed, but it was probably only a few seconds. Then he walked gently over to me, gingerly pulled my pajama bottoms up to cover my penis, then gave me a very affectionate hug. He then said something that simultaneously put me at ease and changed my life: "If we are going to have this talk, let's make it real and really have it. And let's not be nervous about it. How about we get in the hot tub and we relax and you can ask me anything." I was so relieved. It was like dad knew what I needed and was taking the lead so I didn't have to. We walked over to the hot tub. And he started undressing. He had swim trunks upstairs but he didn't bother to go get them. It was like he was signaling to me that this was going to be an adult conversation between two men, not a little kid asking awkward questions to an adult who gives clinical answers. When he was fully naked, he just got right in. Meanwhile, I was still dressed in my pajamas standing there like an idiot. "That what you're wearing?" He asked. Shocked back to reality by his voice, I quickly slid out of my pajamas and joined him in the water. We talked for a couple of hours about sex and our bodies. I think I was hard the whole time. From time to time one of us would get hot and we would have to exit the water and sit on the edge, so I also got an eyeful of my father's body. I think he got a little chubbed from time to time, but never got fully erect. I asked a million questions, but I especially wanted to know about sexual orientation: what kind of person was my father attracted to? He had never spoken openly with me about being gay before, so I think this was new for him too. But as he promised, he answered every question honestly and without holding back. After awhile, I turned the conversation away from talking abstractly, and my questions got more personal. I especially wanted to know what he liked about other guys' bodies, what kinds of things turned him on, and so on. I was delighted that he stayed true to his word and answered me honestly. I discovered that he liked being submissive, that he liked it when guys were dominant; that he enjoyed piss play; that he enjoyed sucking and bottoming, and really enjoyed being made to service several men at one time. And as we finished up the conversation by talking about the things that he enjoyed, I noticed that he had become fully erect. Something about the relaxed nature of the conversation and the soothing warm water had pushed me past my nervousness. In time, I would turn my father into my slave, but right now I didn't really understand that. All I knew is that my father liked to be told what to do, and this seemed as good of a time as any to put that information into practice. He was mid-sentence when I cut him off. "Stop talking!" I said. He immediately got quiet and looked very surprised. "I am going to rub my penis and you need to watch me and tell me if I am doing it right." He caught on to what I was doing immediately. "Well that's pretty good," he said, "but if you are going to command me it's probably best that you not use words like `penis.' Call it your `cock'." "Don't tell me what to do, Nathaniel!" I said. I felt excited to use his first name. "If I want to call my `cock' my `penis' that's what I will do! Now shut up and make sure I'm doing it right." I started rubbing my dick the way I normally did alone, just using the palm to rub it. He suggested to me, "Young sir, it might feel good for you to wrap your whole palm around it and tug up and down. You'll get pleasure on your whole cock, not just the underside." So I switched up and started using his method. It didn't take long for my climax to build. Dad was sitting on the edge of the hot tub and I stood up from my seated position and aimed my dick right next to his face. And when I shot my load, about half of it landed on his cheek and about half landed on his thigh. I quickly left character. "Oh my God! I can't believe I did that to you. Are you ok, dad?" I said. But he just said, "don't get out of character. Order me to clean up this mess." he gently pressed. "Oh, yeah, right. I forgot," I responded. Then I took as much of a commanding voice as I could muster and said, "Are you really going to just sit there? Clean up this mess right now!" He smiled at me and said, "Almost there. Use some cuss words. Call me names." I really was starting to get annoyed at him. So I shouted at him, "I said to fucking clean up this mess, bitch!" He smiled at me and nodded. Then he took his finger and pushed my cum over from his cheek to his mouth. His lips opened to accept my fresh cum. But he didn't swallow. Next, he scooped up my cum that had landed on his leg and, almost in slow motion put it on his tongue to join the half of the load that was already there. Then he held out his tongue, almost displaying my cum to me as a presentation. Once he was satisfied that I had been able to take it all in, he quietly swallowed it down. We just looked at each other silently. Finally, he broke the silence. "Probably best not to tell your mom about this. And, uh, we should probably talk about where we go from here. I don't know that I'm comfortable doing this all the time." I just nodded. It was time to go back to being his buddy. But I also knew that I would be in the driver's seat from now on, because I knew just how to get him to do anything I wanted to do. Honestly, things really did go back to normal after this, except that dad was more or less open about his own sex life with me from that point on. He still wouldn't have other guys over when I was there, but that was more of a respect for me thing. He would tell me about guys that he was dating, though. There just wasn't much point to secrets after that. And he always made it clear to me that he was ok with seeing me as a sexual being. I was told that I could do whatever I wanted to do. If I wanted to jack off, that's ok. If I wanted to bring someone home to have sex with them, that's fine. If I want to walk around naked, I can do that too. He just said that if I want to be sexually active, then I needed to either use a condom or else talk to him about having the doctor get me on prep. About a year later, I would take him up on that offer to get on prep, in very dramatic fashion. But that's the subject of another story.